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gyuswhore · 7 months

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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom.

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin.

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice.

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly.

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands.

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers.

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter.

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her.

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?”

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.”

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future.

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt.

“Sure, yeah. What is it?”

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all”

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway.

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring.

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-”

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.”

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now”

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night”

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building.

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically.

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down.

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding,

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself.

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids.

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.”

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.”

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted.

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done.

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation.

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand.

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way.

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express.

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display.

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you.

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night.

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew.

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.”

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines.

You deserved to wallow in this pit.

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds.

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock.

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name.

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond.

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.”

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears.

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut.

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call.

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response.

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.”

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over.

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows.

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?”

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further.

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands.

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.”

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.”

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh.

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot.

The doorbell rings.

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling.

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!”

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door.

Mingyu’s brought a girl.

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later.

“This is my sister”

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky.

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit.

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge.

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her.

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.”

There it is.

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence.

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance.

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over.

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you.

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister.

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from.

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun.

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”.

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression.

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already.

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?”

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!”

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going.

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect, “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away.

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.”

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you.

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity.

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you.

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.”

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice.

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice.

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion.

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?”

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter.

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances.

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles.

“What? Is it bad?”

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?”

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?”

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face.

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside.

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later.

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her.

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight.

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside.

There’s no Nayeon in sight.

But there is Mingyu.

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both.

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears.

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him.

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?”

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?”

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.”

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny.

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest.

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck.

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up.

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.”

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream.

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.”

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral.

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure.

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting.

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality.

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school.

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner.

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner.

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose.

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand.

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself.

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?”

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!”

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland.

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit.

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does.

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.”

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form.

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart.

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear.

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed.

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite.

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.”

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again.

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet.

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you.

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.”

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.”

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus.

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…”

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation.

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses.

“Especially when it’s none of my business.”

“Charming.”

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major.

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.”

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.”

“Are we getting paid?”

“You get to say you modeled for me.”

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans.

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you.

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh.

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?”

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices.

“I am,” You confirm.

“For what?” He sputters.

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?”

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question.

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?”

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks.

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.”

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.”

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.”

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-”

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika.

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk.

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.”

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that.

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table.

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch.

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.”

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers.

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause.

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in.

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face.

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it.

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort.

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points.

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!”

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor.

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat.

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over.

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite.

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.”

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?”

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes.

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.”

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.”

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar.

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance.

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last.

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive.

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time.

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all.

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers.

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity.

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence.

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week.

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information.

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone.

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins.

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.”

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name.

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you.

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t.

—Kim, Mingyu.

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes.

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was.

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him.

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here!

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off.

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true.

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up.

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him.

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand.

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus.

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously.

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.”

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually.

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything.

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin.

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you.

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?”

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back.

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?”

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour.

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly.

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.”

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.”

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?”

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.”

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.”

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.”

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod.

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared.

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.”

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing.

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling.

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is.

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry.

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat.

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake.

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human.

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on.

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash.

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness.

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch.

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard.

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to.

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else.

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh.

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help.

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention.

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor.

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her.

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house.

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more.

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked.

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought.

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip.

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results.

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.”

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair.

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done.

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you.

“What?”

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation.

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?”

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.”

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes.

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.”

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years.

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night.

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there.

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing.

He’s probably fine.

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu.

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos.

“Oh, hey,” he says normally.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room.

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.”

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.”

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway.

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.”

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you.

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round.

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour.

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.”

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself.

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?”

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it.

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff.

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.”

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.”

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch.

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night.

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car.

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest.

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip.

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!”

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks.

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants.

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak.

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.”

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.”

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise.

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried.

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them.

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room.

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked.

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you.

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping.

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it.

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room.

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry.

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls.

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots.

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn.

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces.

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break.

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time.

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts.

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.”

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?”

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.”

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out.

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.”

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights).

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away.

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.”

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood.

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare.

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine.

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today.

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera.

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it.

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket.

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see.

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?”

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.”

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least.

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off.

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route.

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing.

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.”

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?”

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.”

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting.

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends.

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day.

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home.

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little.

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!”

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here.

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in.

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.”

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm.

“Ah, I see.”

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?”

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.”

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.”

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.”

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.”

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection.

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.”

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation.

“When does your shift end?”

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that.

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously.

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.”

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.”

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.”

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.”

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement.

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible.

Truly.

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention.

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?”

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial.

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.”

“Seok!”

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!”

Beep.

The bastard hung up.

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu.

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle.

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy.

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night.

“Babe?”

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?”

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long.

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word.

“Fifteen.”

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected.

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it.

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.”

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.”

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.”

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms.

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her.

“What now?” she groans.

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!”

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours.

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally.

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy.

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up.

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.”

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past.

It doesn’t.

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.” Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully.

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice.

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated.

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!”

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place.

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!”

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!”

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.”

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done.

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it.

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project.

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful.

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card.

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece.

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

#mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut

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reiderwriter · 1 month

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Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖

So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!

A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Masterlist

You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were.

In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love.

Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father.

Spencer Reid was a great dad.

He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could.

For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.

“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?”

“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”

“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.”

A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in.

He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more.

He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you.

So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard.

Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do.

You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze.

Now, it was your turn.

Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention.

He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to.

You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward.

“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”

“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans.

“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you.

The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one.

JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa.

And that's exactly what happened.

The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger.

“Y/N, you're resting today.”

“But-”

“No. No buts. Just rest.”

“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle.

With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily.

To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down.

The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells.

You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions.

You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her.

JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip.

“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink.

“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.”

You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes.

“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”

The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this.

“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief.

“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face.

“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence.

The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door.

You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them.

You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target.

When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window.

Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation.

“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.”

“Be be be da.”

“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”

“Ba!”

“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”

He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.

“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.”

The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family.

Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories.

“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”

“Mmmm,”

“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.”

“Mmmma”

“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.”

“Mama.”

You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out.

“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”

“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy.

“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”

“Mama!”

“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”

The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn.

Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently.

“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.

“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.”

“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.

“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.”

The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who��s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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97keanu · 6 months

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა 𖤐Hellsent𖤐 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Dave Lizewski x Succubi!Reader

Premise: Dave, Todd, and Marty have been laughing about doing a demonic ritual for Halloween. They text back and forth via Skype about how silly it is that there's so many fake rituals online. Todd gets the bright idea of looking into the deep web for some really funny ones, and ends up sending Dave a link for a ritual to 'try'. Thinking it's just bullshit, Dave goes ahead and performs the ritual, but it may turn out to be more real than he thought...

Tags/CW: all characters are 18+, succubi!reader, demonic!reader, nerdy!Dave, blood, demonic rituals, smut, demonic sex, switch!reader, Dom leaning!Reader, sub!Dave, virgin!Dave, p in v, doggy, surprising dom!Dave, chubby!reader, thick!reader, slutty!reader, c*mslut!reader, oral (Dave receiving), oral (reader receiving), raw.

Be added to the Dave taglist here check out my other Dave Lizewski fics here!

Just like any Friday night, Dave was at home. He is set up at his computer, complete with snacks and the biggest bottle of Mountain Dew he could find at the convenience store. His room is dark, save for the blue light of the screen being his beacon in the dark October night. His glasses glint with the screens reflection as he watches memes on youtube because there's nothing better to do. He checks his Skype after hearing that familiar ping! and takes a big swig of his drink.

Todd and Marty are currently laughing over finding out that some parts of the internet think you can actually summon a demon. Dave watches as they type back and forth quizzically before responding himself.

[Dave]: People really think that shit works?

[Marty]: Guess so...and I thought we did some pathetic shit on the internet.

[Todd]: Right, I mean the one I'm looking at now says: "How to summon a Succubus."

[Todd]: These nerds are so lonely they think they can magically conjure up a woman to fuck them, it's actually kind of sad at that point...

[Marty] Damn, maybe that's what Dave needs so he can finally get some pussy for once

[Dave] As if you aren't already looking into how to do it, Marty. I just know from how much you play WoW that you have some sick monster girl fantasies.

[Todd] Actually, I'm with Marty on this one, you should try the ritual and get back to us. I think you'd be less of a dickhead if you finally got some.

Dave stares at the screen in discontent. He hates when his friends make fun of him for being a virgin, which makes no sense to Dave because they're not getting any either. Todd claims that the reason it's different is because at least Todd tries to give an air of not being a virgin, and Marty got to 2nd base in freshmen year with one of the chess team girls. Dave however, according to Todd and Marty, is a quintessential virgin.

So, when Todd sends a sketchy link that Dave is almost certain will end up being a screamer or malware, he decides to click it anyways, on the off chance it actually is a way to get a demon babe to fuck you.

To Dave's surprise, it isn't a fake out. It's a forum, from what part of the web, Dave is unsure. He hasn't seen a site like this before, and from a quick glance, the people talking in it are serious. He reads as users of the forum detail a ritual, and how each of them have modified it until supposedly it worked. Dave still feels pretty skeptical about it, but it seems like everyone in this forum really believes this, and that alone is enough that Dave feels a slight chill.

Dave hears another ping! and when he clicks back to Skype, Todd and Marty are once again, egging him on about it. He tries to ignore it, not sending anything back as he begins writing down what the forum suggests. Dave hears the familiar sound of an incoming call, and reluctantly answers it. Dave watches as the screen-glowed faces of Todd and Marty join his.

"So, are you going to do it?" Marty says with a snort.

"Yeah, c'mon Dave, we wanna watch and see if it's real!" Todd looks very enthusiastic about all of this, but of course, he's safe from any harm behind the screen.

"Fine, I'll do your stupid ritual and show you how dumb it is." Dave grumbles, finally giving in to the idea fully.

Todd and Marty are pumped, and Dave let's them know he has to go gather some things from the list. He mutes and turns off his camera before trekking out of his room for the first time that night to look for what the ritual calls for, or the best things he can find.

Dave scoures the house and ends up finding most of what he needs. He steals five candles from his Dad, who is surprisingly into collecting Bath and Body Works scents. He gathers cinnamon and basil from the kitchen cabinet, and is surprised to see there is actually a bundle of lavender on the wall for decoration. He finishes his hunt by grabbing a piece of white chalk from leftover summer days when he was younger, and a needle from his mom's old sewing kit.

Dave races back up to his attic room, ready to get this over with, and tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. A part of him worries if it will work. A deeper part of him wonder if it was even remotely possible that he could actually get laid tonight, demonic or otherwise.

"Alright, I got what it says..." Dave turns on the mic and camera and tells his friends. They seem interested, and urge him to continue. Dave sets the webcam up so they can see more of his room, particularly the bed and the wooden floor before it.

He gets started, making a pentagram and tracing the runes that the website said to put. It doesn't take long before he has what looks like a legit summoning circle, to his surprise. He continues as Todd and Marty watch carefully, and Dave notices that they aren't joking as much as before the more he continues. He wonders how much they think this will really work, or if this is an elaborate prank to make him do all this work in a desperate attempt to have sex. He hopes neither of them are screen recording the most.

Dave lights each candle, placing them on a pentagram point, then sprinkling a bit of each herb to each candle. He looks back to the paper he has the instructions on and confirms that the next part he will have to draw blood.

"I guess it calls for blood now, guys..." Dave says, uneasily, glancing back to the screen for validation.

"I thought you said after the accident you couldn't feel much pain?" Todd asks, and Marty nods along.

"We've come this close, better just finish it up and see if it really works..." Marty quietly adds, shifting in his seat.

"I don't know what you mean by 'we'..." Dave grumbles, but grabs the sewing needle.

They were right, it won't hurt that much to prick his finger for Dave. Somehow, despite knowing the pain wasn't really an issue, Dave's heart began to pick up. The wind outside his window seemed to disappear as he carefully begun poking his finger, the blood swelling up and slipping down it. Todd and Marty were completely silent as they watched Dave add a drop to each point, Dave speaking the Latin he had wrote down for the ritual. As he neared the last line and last point, he felt something in the room shift. The energy made the hair on his neck stand up, and the candles flickered despite the lack of airflow. Dave hesitated as he began to finish the ritual, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

There was only one way to see if any of that was real or not, though. And Dave wasn't about to chicken out in front of his friends, he hated facing embarrassment like that from them because it would last for months. Besides, it was unlikely anything would happen and he could go back and goad Todd for thinking it would work. Dave smiled for a second thinking of how he could get back at him, then found the confidence to continue.

He spoke the last line, his drop of blood falling onto the last sigil. Dave watched as it sat there, and for a few moments, nothing moved.

"I told you, Todd! Nothing was going to happen-" Dave yelled back at the screen with a smirk, then paused.

He saw the sigil soak up the blood, moving the liquid by an unknown force. A faint glow of red began to take hold of the shape. Todd and Marty could barely tell through their cameras, but watched in anticipation, wondering why their friend stopped gloating. Dave stepped out of the circle, almost tripping into his bed. As he exited the circle, the wind picked up, blowing harshly into his room. He heard Todd and Marty begin chattering, asking what was happening, as one of the candles fell over, sparking a ring of fire around the pentagram.

Dave tried to move, tried to do anything, knowing he should put out the flame, but he was speechless as he watched the ring bend shape into that of a heart. Dave blinked, trying to will the images before him away, unable to process what was happening. As he was almost able to regain the ability to move, your portal opened up.

You had been watching hungrily as the young man completed your ritual, smelling the virginity on him from your realm, and wanting a taste of his sweet essence. You floated out of the portal, your tiny, pink bat-like wings fluttering. You watched as Dave's eyes grew ever larger at the sight of you. You who was practically naked, a string of bikini covering only the most sacred of bits. Your pink skin glowed in the dim light of his computer, and the horns on your head gleamed. You could hear the sounds of boys fawning over you from the computer, and glanced over with a sharpness in your Amaranth colored eyes.

"You brought me here to an audience, I see..." Your voice, dripping with honey-like sweetness, yet your demonic undertones rumbled through out.

Dave could barely speak. He looked up at you to where he had fallen into the end of his bed with fear and, to his dismay, a hardening cock clearly beginning to struggle against his jeans. He could barely believe any of it.

Maybe he had fallen when the fire broke out and hit his head, or perhaps the fumes from the smoke were making him see things, but no. You really were in his bedroom, a burning heart breaking way to the hottest creature he had ever laid eyes on.

His eyes trailed your curves, enjoying the plumpness and the way the straps of your bikini could barely hold how thick you were. He thought he might just cum in his pants right then as you turned, your ass so juicy and cute, your tail flicking with mischief. He watched as you stepped out of the circle, walking over to the computer. As you got closer, bending over and giving Dave a wonderful view, the computer began to glitch.

"It seems my magic prevents me from using such a contraption..." You whisper to yourself, and Dave opens his mouth to speak, but cannot find the words. "No matter. If you wish for these humans to watch as I take you, then so be it."

The thought of Todd and Marty watching him lose his virginity made his stomach turn, and Dave finally was able to jump to his feet, rushing towards the computer as you left it to float over to the bed. He could hear Todd and Marty trying to dissuade him from turning off the webcam, obviously eager to see what comes next even if it is their closest friend.

"Wait, Dave!" They said almost in unison as Dave began shutting it down.

"Sorry guys! Busy! Bye!" Dave uttered, the words the first thing that he could think of to say. He ended the call and turned off his computer in record time, turning to face you, who was now laid out on the bed with a sensual stare.

"So, they call you Dave?" You purred, your pink eyes glowing in the darkness of Dave's room.

The firey summoning circle has died down to a crisp ember in the floor. Dave didn't want to think about how he would have to explain that to his dad later. Instead, he couldn't help but to be entranced by you, walking forward slowly, unsure, but knowing he wants you.

"Y-yeah, that's, um, my name..." Dave speaks shyly, a nervous hand ruffling his dark curls at the back of his head.

"Cute...I'd tell you my name, but I don't think you would understand my demonic language." You tease him, bringing up a finger and curling it to signal Dave to come closer.

Dave gulps, and takes a few steps further, then stops. Even if this is all just a gas leak induced dream, he still felt the need to make sure that he was safe.

"Wh-what are you going to, uh, do to me?" He forces the words out.

"Nothing you don't want, Dave." You lay back, your pink tits falling just so, looking perfectly round and soft. Dave can't help but get caught up in them.

"But, you're a d-demon right?" He has to blink and look away to keep talking, his cock is distracting him too much when he looks at you.

"A succubi, yes... Is that a problem?"

"Aren't demons, like, supposed to be, um, really bad and stuff?" He hates how ridiculous and nerdy he sounds trying to figure this all out, but he's so nervous he can barely speak naturally.

"Depends on what you view as bad." You begin, a hand lazily playing with the strap of your bikini on your thigh, snapping it. Dave watches as your thighs jiggle temptingly.

"If you think sex is a sin, then maybe I would be bad. That was very common back in the day. The world seems to have grown a bit, but we still get summons from hunters who hate us. You don't happen to be a demon hunter, do you Dave?" You know he's not, but it's fun to see him sweat a little.

"N-no, absolutely not..." Dave stutters out, then clears his throat. "But, what do you want to do to me?"

"Well, I thought you knew the answer to that, seeing as it was you who summoned me." You giggle a bit, the sound like to soft bells. "Usually, this works as a symbiotic relationship. You get to fuck me, and I get to devour that delicious sexual energy you've been hoarding..."

"H-hoarding?"

"Oh yes, your virginity at such an age is less common nowadays. It will be very, very tasty to suck all of that pent up sexual frustration out of you..." You wink at him, and Dave's already hot cheeks darken a deeper shade of red.

"But, will that hurt me?" Dave whispers, the temptation to give in so strong he has started coming closer and closer.

"Only if you care that you'll be extremely tired afterward. But sex makes most people tired, doesn't it?" Dave thinks he's heard that before, but he wouldn't really know either way. The offer sounds like a good deal though, he could take being tired.

"And you won't do anything I won't like?"

"Not a chance."

Dave stops at the foot of the bed, looking down at you sexy form. He never thought he would ever have a girl in his bed, laid out, wanting him. He couldn't have guessed that girl would be a hot succubi like yourself. He takes one last moment to decide, and his cock overrides all better judgements.

Dave nods at you, accepting, and you smile, your tiny fangs cutely peeking out from behind your soft, plump lips. You move, cat-like and sensual, getting on all fours and meeting Dave at the edge of the bed. You place a hand on his hard cock, and he breathes out a shuttering breath, the touch warm and inviting.

"I suppose we should start by freeing up such a large cock..." You look up as you speak, your eyelashes batting.

Dave groans as you unzip his jeans, his mind reeling from the fact that you called his cock big. He didn't think he would ever hear a girl tell him that, and now here you are, looking up with your heart shaped pupils as if Dave's the sexiest man around.

Truth is, you do think he's quite sexy. Sure, he's obviously a comic book nerd, that much was sure from one look at his room. But, those big blue eyes and that sweetheart, shy smile were quite charming. You're honestly surprised that no one else has already used this boy up. Oh well, more of his fat cock for you.

You watch as it flops out, and you're even more surprised by how big and girthy it is when it's been unleashed from his jeans. You stare up at him with lustful, glowing eyes, taking his cock slowly in your hands, and for a moment you think he might just cum from that. As you continue to slowly stroke his cock, you can sense how horny he is, and are surprised by the level. Maybe he will make an acceptable sex partner after all. You haven't found someone who can keep up with you yet, at least not enough for you to visit more than once.

You slowly slide his jeans and underwear down, his mess of curls at the base of his cock meeting your hand as you fully stroke him. He leans his head back, his eyes scrunched up from trying to keep himself from cumming too soon. You bite your lip, ready to give his cock a taste.

Your warm mouth engulfs the tip of Dave's cock, filling up more of your mouth than you imagined. Dave moans out from the sudden warmth, and his hips gently buck for more as your tongue swirls around the head of his cock gently, teasing him. You feel his cock begin to leak, even after such little contact, and you lap it up happily, feeling the sexual energy begin to energize you.

"P-please..." Dave barely gets out as you continue to tease. "I can't take much more,"

You look up at him, taking your mouth off and giving him a breather. You flip over, so your breasts are facing him, and open your mouth as your head dangles gently off the bed.

"Fuck my mouth, Dave..." You command, and it doesn't take anything else for Dave to nod and listen.

He gently places his cock in your mouth, slowly rocking his hips in, going shallowly in and out. You reach a hand between your own legs, feeling your wetness from the outside of your bikini, and placing with your pussy on top of it. You reach a hand up to his thigh and without warning to him, push, making his cock dive deep into your throat.

His muscles tense and he let's out a loud whimper, not moving because he knows he will burst in your mouth right now if he does. You enjoy the feeling of your throat being so full, feeling his cock twitching and aching to cum in there. You feel him slowly begin to move again, taking deeper and deeper thrusts with the help of your guiding hand. You feel a bit surprised by his sudden boldness when he reaches down, and grabs a handful of your tits. You're moaning along, happy he is getting the hang of this.

You take his cock with ease, that's what you were made for after all, but that doesn't stop how horny it makes you to have a throat full of such a big cock like his. You love the way it chokes you when he dips in as deep as he can go, your spit slipping down the sides of your mouth. The feeling of being used in such a way as your pussy tingling, and you can't wait to have Dave's fat cock fill you up there too.

"Fuck...I'm so close to cumming..." You hear him whisper, and you're not worried at all that he will cum so quickly. You're a demon, after all, you have your ways of getting a cock hard again, and you don't plan on letting Dave go on only a fifteen minute throat fuck.

Dave can hardly believe how good this feels. Or the fact that he, someone who no other girl would even look at because he's such a shy nerd, gets to fuck someone like you. He feels so powerful right now too, being able to fuck you in throat, and no matter how much he tests how hard he can go, you take it with ease. His hands play with your breasts, and he slips a hand under the fabric of your bikini. He's surprised to find your nipples are pierced, but the idea turns him on even more. He softly twists them, earning him a moan from you every time, which only goes directly to his cock. He isn't sure how much longer he can hold it. He wants to explore so much more of your body, but he needs to cum so badly it hurts.

You feel Dave's cock swell in your throat, and you're sure he can see the lump he's leaving from the outside. He shudders as he tries to drag this out, attempting to save himself for more of your body, but he knows he can't stop himself. Dave cuts off one of your pretty little moans by jolting his cock hard and fast deep into your throat, spilling over and filling you up. You can barely breathe, and the hot liquid tries to choke you, but you're no amateur. You happily swallow all of Dave's seed as it twitches out inside of you.

Dave carefully pulls his cock from your throat, and your smile up at him, cum slipping down the side of your mouth. You use a hand to quickly get it in your mouth, his sexual essence most powerful there. Dave watches as your eyes glow a bit more strongly after swallowing so much cum.

"You really did suck the life out of me, huh..." Dave says wearily, feeling the effects of your succubus powers.

You sit up and smile, nodding to his question. You feel the energy making you more awake, but you're still hungry for him.

Dave sits on the bed next to you and you lean into him. You let your hands pull off his shirt, and explore his body, your kisses to his neck, biting and sucking softly.

"I'm not sure I can..." Dave begins, but when your hand reaches down to touch his cock, he's surprised at how easy he gets hard again. You giggle into his neck, his curls tickling your face.

"How did you..." He asks, his voice full of wanton.

"A perk of spending the night with a succubi," you whisper into his ear. "Is that were finished, when I say were finished..."

Dave feels your voice against his ear, and he shudders, a chill from how good it feels to be touched by your taking over his body.

"Tell me Dave, what else would you like tonight?" You whisper as you stroke his cock back to life.

"I um..." Dave's cheeks heat up as he thinks about one of his biggest fantasies, the feeling of you stroking him not helping to keep his mind straight. "I actually...would love if you would let me eat you out..."

Dave whimpers out his request, and you're surprised the second time tonight. Most men that summon you can only think of themselves, but you're turned on by the fact that Dave seems to love giving just as much as he likes receiving.

You pull him back with you, laying onto your back, and letting Dave get in between your legs. You keep his head by yours so you can kiss those big, luscious lips of his, and he happily receives them. You guide him down your neck, to your breasts where you let his mouth explore for a while. You arch your back into him, your tits so sensitive to his touch. Dave sucks on them, pulling them together even and getting both nipples in his mouth. He remembers seeing that in a porn flick once, and he gets ever harder as he realizes how good it feels to do so. What feels the best right now, is hearing your moans as he pleases you. Dave's always loved the idea of giving, of making you feel so good, and the fact that it's him who's able to please a woman turns him on the most. He wonders what other moves he can try on you.

Finally he slips his head between your juicy thighs, taking both and squeezing them, pushing your legs against his face. You see what he wants and laugh a little, putting more pressure to smush his head between your thighs. He seems to love the feeling, and when you release him, he looks up at you with such love and lust in his eyes. You pull your tiny bikini, now soaked with your wetness, to the side, and let Dave get a good look at your cute little pussy.

"God, you look so gorgeous..." He whispers, not realizing he's thinking his thoughts out loud. He's already so intoxicated by you, and he wonders how much of it is natural and how much of it is your demonic influence. Then he looks into your cute eyes and he doesn't care.

He leans in, inhaling your scent before lapping up your pussy with a flat tongue. He already loves how you taste, and while he's surprised by the taste as it is his first time, he also finds it so strangely enjoyable. He picks up the pace, your breathing changing with it, and you give him praise while he gives you head.

"You're such a good boy for me, Dave..." And suddenly, Dave feels as if he's doing what he's supposed to. He loves being praised for doing such a good job, and he had no idea that your soft whimpers and approval were so poignant. He takes your thighs and pulls you into himself, his mouth working harder to make you feel good.

He tries to remember techniques he had, of course, searched for. He didn't know when he might need to know how to eat pussy, so he tried searching various reddits and wikihows to make sure he would do a good job. He swirls his tongue around your clit, and teases it the way you teased his cock. You enjoy the feeling, loving how he explores what feels good for you, and how he listens to your commands and moans to do just that.

Dave laps up all of your pussy, exploring more than just your clit, and looking up at you with his big blues pussy drunk. He remembers one tip, and tries it, putting his whole mouth over your clit and sucking. You moan out, arching your back into him and gripping his curls. He can't believe how good it feels to have his hair gripped like that, and soon enough your bobbing his head in the perfect motion, using his mouth up to your liking.

Dave's glasses begin fogging over and getting in the way, so between breaths he plucks them off and tosses them away, uncaring what happens to them. He's too busy with the euphoria you're giving him. He feels his cock against the bed, so hard. He is practically humping the bed to get some friction down there while his head keeps in time with the motions you guide. You feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"Put your fingers inside me, Dave..." You command with a husky voice, and Dave doesn't hesitate.

He wets his fingers by licking the first two, and slowly plays with your hole, easing himself inside of you. He can't believe how warm it is, and he slowly curls them like he read about. You moan out, his fingers are so long and thick.

"More..." You breathe. "Harder..."

Dave complies, giving you anything you ask for, completely taken by your spell, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You feel him finally hit that perfect spot inside you, and you practically scream out.

"Yes! Right there, right there!" You whine, your legs shaking and your hands a mess in his curls. Dave doesn't let up, and instead brings you over the edge, letting you buck into his face and hand.

He watches as you come for him, whining out his name, and he feels as if he may just cum himself against the bed. He only pulls up and stops when you tell him to, looking up at you, breathless and lips wet. He looks dazed and satisfied with himself, and you look at him with a similar expression. Your eyes glow and take in the experience, and soon enough you're already aching for his cock again.

Dave can hardly stand it himself, all of his thoughts are on how badly he needs to finish fucking you. He doesn't wait to see what you do next, he feels way too primal to do so. Instead, in his sex drunken state, he moves up, bringing his cock to meet your pussy. He taps it in your wetness, before playing with your folds, making you bite your lip with want.

"Fuck me, Dave..." You whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist and pull him in.

Dave doesn't need to be told twice. He slips his cock down, your pussy wet and like satin, smoothly and slowly pressing himself inside of you. You can take his cock, but that doesn't mean you can't feel his girth stretching you and his length filling you to the brim. Dave settles his cock into the warmth of your pussy and for a second he wonders if this is what heaven feels like.

He thinks to take it slow, but when he looks up at your eyes, he knows. He slips back out slowly, almost pulling all the way out, before pounding back in with force, testing out how hard he's allowed to fuck you. Turns out, you like it pretty damn hard. Soon enough, he's fucking your tight little cunt so hard your tits are bouncing uncontrollably, and your moans are reverberating off the walls. Dave's very happy he's the only one home right now, but he's sure at this point even the neighbors know.

Dave get's caught up in the moment, and grips your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He pull you up so his cock angles so he can go deep, savoring the way your pussy holds him so firmly. He doesn't know what overcomes him, but he pulls out for a minute, and with strength he didn't know he had, he flips you over. He grabs a handful of your juicy ass, before giving it a slap, and diving right back in.

Your tail flicking with delight as he fucks you from behind, and soon enough he's grabbing a hold of that too, holding it at the thicker base and using it to keep you right where he wants you. Dave fucks you like the dirty cumslut you are, and you love every minute of it. You're panting and looking back at him with eyes that soak up every stroke, enjoying how delicious his sexual energy tastes. You wonder how a succubi could get so lucky as to find suck pure virgin nerdy dick like this. You don't think you can go back to being pleasured by just anyone.

Dave feels you tightening around him, your hand slipping underneath you to find your needy clit, rubbing frantically now to get off.

"You like when I pound you with this cock?" Dave has no idea what has possessed him to say such a thing, usually he's so shy, but right now, he can't help but to dominate you.

"Yes!" You respond, happy to switch roles however your dorky lover wants. "Please fill my pussy up, I need it..."

Dave gets closer and closer as you beg to be his cumdumpster, and you feel yourself beginning to cum again yourself. You feel your muscles stiffen, and your moans get away from you as you cum. Dave can't take it anymore, not with your cunt spasming and tightening all over his cock. He fills you up with his own groan, pounding his cum deeper and deeper with every stroke.

You feel yourself being so full, of Dave's cum, cock, and essence. You look back at him, completely taken away by how good of a fuck he is. When Dave is finished filling you up, he pulls out, carefully. His breaths hard and his body sweaty. He can't help himself, he falls next to you and pulls you close, spooning him from behind.

After the two of you finally settle down, enjoying the silence and the way each others body feels, Dave speaks.

"Not at all what I was expecting for my first time..." His voice is sleepy and deep, sending butterflies into your stomach.

"And what if we did it again sometime...?" You say tentatively, biting your lip.

"Really?" Dave doesn't know what to say, he had no idea that it was possible to see you again.

"You might just become my main meal, if you want to be." You tease and Dave snuggles into your neck.

"Hmm...I think I would like that..." He can hardly keep his eyes open, all the energy having been drained from him.

He gently holds you close, one hand softly thumbing your horns and petting your hair. You usually don't stay this long, but for some reason, you're really enjoying this. You allow your body's exhaustion to take over, relaxing into his arms. Soon enough Dave slips into the best slumber he's ever had, and you follow him.

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#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x succubi!reader #my writing #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski x you

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devondespresso · 9 months

Text

FINALLY

after NINE. HOURS. (NOT including meals and sleep) ITS FUCKING DONE.

A complete floorplan of the entire Harrington house. Including too much thought about random, throw-away lines from characters and squint-to-see-it background glimpses inside.

plently of stuff in the actual house is altered or straight up ignored in favor of following the fiction logic and because I Wanted To. A lot of this is motivated by my headcanons for the Harringtons and how I'm writing them in my fic, but I'm also certainly not an architect so it's by no means perfect. It is, however, unreasonably canon compliant in the few bits we do see.

Thought Process (for context):

the darker shaded floor areas are lower than the rest, some bits like the garages having stairs and some areas like the sun and dining rooms list being like a step lower. Windows are marked with dashes along the outside, sliding doors are two thin lines slightly overlapping, stairs change color as they diverge from the level we're looking at, and furniture is eyeballed so don't look to closely a the scale.

not all closets are labeled, just the ones i figured could be confusing. Steve and the guest rooms have closets i promise.

the laundry room and pantry are not the same size but by the time i noticed i was exhausted. so pretend they're both more reasonably sized.

i don't know what the floorplan symbol for garage door is and then i forgot to look so the headlights point to where the doors are and you can see them clearly in photos so yeah.

The general layout is based on the idea that the Harringtons are or were into hosting dinner parties and business meetings in their home, especially as a young rich couple looking for respect in their circles (Mr. Harrington taking on his father's business and reinforcing that power, Mrs. Harrington climbing her own social ladder and building an image).

So the house is laid out with hosting areas towards the right with the office big and near the dining room because it's more than just a workplace, it represents him as a businessman. In canon the entryway and living room both have very high ceilings and no second-floor above them, so I'd imagine they're also aware of how the top floor looks from below, hence the fancy double/french doors to the master bedroom which is in plain view from below. Steve's room and the guest room are's nearly as visible.

As for the kitchen and sun/pool rooms, I see them more as secondary hosting areas that aren't used as the main location most of the time and are more this background setting to these events that still feel rich. The kitchen is massive and mostly for dinner-parties and Mrs. Harrington's social events.

The kitchen and main bathroom's placement is based on a line Steve said to Barb giving her directions to the bathroom: "down past the kitchen, to the left". With the massive living room on the left and wanting to keep the dining and office close by, i interpreted the "to the left" part being like "find the kitchen, then turn left". And with the rest of the area being open-concept, the bathroom would be the only normal door over there and easy to find. it's a bit of a stretch with just that line, but it makes sense to me with the rest of the context for the layout.

the basement is similar to this, though not as openly displayed so I imagine its for slightly closer friends. Theres a garage door down there so I figured Mr. Harrington might have a cool car he shows off, like he's letting people in on a personal detail about himself. There's also a guest room down there (the only one still considered 100% for guests, more on that later) for those people.

beside the basement garage, there was originally one main garage that holds two cars, obvious Mr. and Mrs. Harrington's cars. I imagine they bought the house before having kids, so a third one wasn't on the mind but after having Steve they added the front one (either turning the carport into a closed garage or they never had a carport and added a whole new addition, up to you)

Both garages lead to the same part of the house, and that area is the only one besides the water heater room that is purely function over effect. It still looks good like the rest of the house but it's not made to be fancy because guests would rarely need to be over there if at all and it's not noteworthy from other parts of the house.

In my headcanon, Steve's room used to be a guest room, staying his room from nursery to present with Mrs. Harrington renovating every now and then. Its one of those places in the house that doesn't have to look perfect for all to see, so she gets creative and has fun with it.

The upstairs guest room is also unofficially Mrs. Harrington's room, based on a line where Tommy mentions a fireplace in "his mom's room" instead of "guest room" or "parent's room" or "master bedroom". I belatedly realized this could be a solidarity thing with Steve hating his dad and calling the master bedroom his mom's room, but that was after 9 hours of this and im not changing it but there you go. In this version, I imagine she leaves the master some nights because her marriage with Mr. Harrington is failing (cheating and all, I wouldn't want to be in the same bed with someone who cheated either)

the master bathroom was an executive decision, just looking at the house in canon and not having enough space in my first attempts, i decided the triangle roof part above the dining and office could fit a master bathroom.

Feel free to use or reference this in your own fics! Feel free to block out my furniture or walls and make your own version. If you share my image please credit with an @ mention!! (again, 9 hours) (thank you fhalsfhd)

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!

Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.

(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)

Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..

He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.

Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.

His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.

It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.

Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."

Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.

Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.

Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...

He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.

Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.

Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.

Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."

On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.

He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.

Joel's a tease.

He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.

Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.

His sense of humor is... peculiar.

("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")

You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.

Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.

Reciprocity's big on him.

Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.

Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.

Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.

Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.

Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.

Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.

One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.

(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller drabble #joel miller headcanon #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months

Text

When Ice and Mav actually moved in together for the first time (after dodging it for about five years) when Mav had to take in Bradley, Ice found pretty soon that Bradley and Mav had no sense of safety --- would always forget to lock the door, either while leaving the house for the day or retiring for the night.

So he installed locks that would lock automatically as soon as the door shut.

Of course, Mav and Bradley didn't remember to lock the doors because they didn't remember to take the keys with them. One can imagine this becomes a problem.

After the twentieth time Bradley biked from school only to wait three hours for Mav, and then another two to wait for Ice because Mav also forgot his keys, Bradley decides to do something about it.

He's very much Mav's kid so instead of doing the normal thing and making key copies and putting them in some secret spots/his locker room, he decides he's just going to learn to pick locks.

It's the nineties so he basically just goes to a locksmith and asks if he can buy some tools off him and the guy is so fascinated by this scrawny thirteen-year-old who wants to learn to pick locks to break into his own house, he not only teachs him basics but also gives him lock picking mags and a book.

So Bradley learns on old locks and bike chains and then one day, he forgets the keys and breaks into their own house. It happens again and again.

Mav finds out when he picks Bradley up from the principal's office one day and arrives at the house to promptly realize he didn't take his keys in the morning. He asks Bradley if he has the keys, he doesn't, and Mav just gets fed up because there's no way they're waiting six hours until Ice comes back so he has to go back to base.

Bradley makes a deal with him. "If I get us inside, you won't ground me."

Obviously, Mav agrees. And Bradley picks the lock.

And like, Mav probably shouldn't indulge this, but it also means he doesn't have to worry about carrying keys again so, yeah, he buys Bradley a new lockpicking mini tool belt. And Bradley gets even better at it.

One day, Ice is supposed to be at home the whole day, brought a suitcase full of confidential documents with himself, the type that has both a lock and a code, and tells Bradley to tell Mav he's only going to be at the office fifteen minutes tops, he'll be home the whole day, please don't blow a gasket Mav. Bradley asks why, Ice explains he forgot the goddamn key for the suitcase and Bradley is like, "If I can open it, can you buy me that keyboard before my birthday?" and for funnsies, Ice agrees.

Before he finishes saying, "This is government property, kid, no way you'll be able to open it with some funny screwdriver," Bradley is reading the top secret mission plans out loud.

He gets that keyboard. Ice is the man of his word.

One time, Slider arrives on base in his new fancy BMW, showing it off and boasting so much he locks the key in by accident.

Ice is like, "Don't call the locksmith, I got it," and calls home and asks Bradley to check if he can open it and Bradley's answer is, "Only if Uncle Slider agrees to teach me to drive in it." Slider, obviously, agrees because there's no way --- he doesn't know what Ice is playing at but Baby Goose is not going to open his car.

Bradley opens the brand new BMW with about twenty Navy guys cheering him on in the parking lot.

Now, when Bradley is all alone at college, it's very tempting to use it for bad stuff --- to steal cars or rob shops, especially when money gets tough --- but the worst he does is breaking into the cafeteria and stealing sandwiches and bags of chips. He knows having a record would kick him out of NROTC, fast, so the lockpicking becomes a bit useless --- he does charge people from his dorms (which all have the same automatic lock on the doors) ten bucks to open them and avoid calling the RA.

Next time it has any significant impact on his life, Jake Seresin just forgot his key to his locker. He's got his flight suit but his boots and a space to leave his bag is behind the closed door.

Bradley only says, "You're not going to ask questions and you're going to owe me one."

He takes out a pin he always has attached to his car keys and within minutes, Seresin's locker is open.

He doesn't know it but Jake stares at him, not because he's wondering how much shit he's stolen (that too, a little bit) but also because apparently he finds lock picking really hot.

Now, Bradley goes about his life and soon enough finds out that Seresin's definition of 'owe you one' meant taking Bradley out on a date. Which, honestly, Bradley isn't that opposed to even if he puts on a face, Seresin is nice to look at and it's hard to find a guy to fuck when you're training six days a week in flight school.

They have a little routine of Jake calling with, "Hey, I locked myself out, can you get your ass here?" and Bradley lockpicking his door and then pinning him to said door as soon as they're inside. He's pretty sure he's seen Jake's keys in his back pocket a few times it happened.

This continues but Bradley keeps on staying longer and longer at Jake's place, more of his already small collection of things makes its way there, to the point that it's more like he's living there too and just breaking in every time, like back at the house in San Diego.

Obviously, he gets spooked, badly, when Jake finally says that when they move to Lemoore after they finish training, he's giving Bradley an actual key. The last time he shared a key with someone, he's been told he isn't enough and isn't ready and had all his dreams shattered --- like hell he's letting Jake chew out his heart, again.

So he requests change of target stations and doesn't say shit until the winging ceremony.

Next time he picks a lock, it's Nat's car in the NAS Oceans parking lot. He doesn't say she owes him one but she offers him a drink at the nearby bar as a thank you. He says no, just not to risk it again.

Nat sticks but nothing like with Jake happens.

Years go on and the second time around Bradley is at Top Gun, with Mav hovering over him like a goddamn shadow, with Nat's judgemental eyes and with Jake's big pretty mouth not knowing what he's saying, he gets a text.

I locked myself out. Can you get your ass here? with a base house location pinned in the next message.

Maybe he's naive but he goes.

"I really did lock myself out," Jake tells him straight away. "Don't think this means anything."

They haven't talked since he took out Bradley's dirty laundry in front of everyone in the debriefing room. Bradley opens his front door and is about to leave when Jake asks, "You wanna step inside?"

It doesn't solve anything. He doesn't know if Jake actually locked himself out or not.

When he and Mav are discharged, waiting to leave the base again, and Mav swears and mutters, "I forgot my goddamn keys," and Bradley knows Ice is currently in Hawaii, Bradley asks, "You got some paper clips on you?"

It doesn't solve anything but he breaks into Mav and Ice's house.

It doesn't solve anything but it's a start.

#icemav #mavdad and icepops get tricked #this was a silly idea #hangster #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #op #charlie writes

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schrodingers-deadbitch · 11 months

Text

Half A Corpse

Chapter One

The soft hum of the radio filled the silent car ride, the four bodies inside somewhat anticipating what was to come. It had been a couple of days since they had left the ruins of Amity and were making their way to their new home in Gotham.

If any of them had their own way they would have stayed in Amity and mourned what they had lost. Every Amity Parker would have, even Dan. But with some prompting from none other than Clockwork, they all made their way to their new homes. Where was that? Wherever their hearts took them.

Most, like the Nightingale's, left for Gotham. Others, Metropolis. Some strayed from the trend and moved to places like Central City or even far into the countryside. But it was as Clockwork said, and they went where their hearts took them.

“This place smells of death.”

Jazz couldn't tell if her sister was complaining or not but she wouldn't blame her if she were.

“Haven't you been to Gotham before?” She asked, her eyes drifting upwards to the rear view mirror to look at Dani, only to see her sitting upside down. “Also if you keep that up I'll be the one going to jail not you.”

“It was actually the first place I went because I thought it was interesting,” She said while shifting herself into an upright position “but I could sense that it was someone's haunt so I didn't intrude.”

“Good thing you didn't. She doesn't have the ability to deal with many of the issues within her city but Lady Gotham is a powerful spirit nonetheless, and doesn't do well with outside ghosts.” Dan stated, putting down his book to give his full attention to his little sister.

“Well if that's the case why did she let us in?”

“Because Clockwork and I asked very nicely.” Danny yawned at her. He was still waking up from his nap. He was very, very tired.

Dani didn't ask any more questions. She was already off of that topic and was now observing the city around her. She was completely enamored. Fascinated by how well both the modern and gothic architecture complemented each other. To her (and probably everyone else in the car);

“It gives dark academia vibes, ya know! Just modern. And with lots of crime.” Her voice filled with awe and wonder.

“Excusing the fact that you've been on the internet too much as of late, it would have been better if there was a little more sunlight.”

They all couldn't have agreed more. True to every Gothamite's words, the sun did not shine in Gotham. And with all the smog, probably never will.

From there on the car ride was filled with convocation. Everyone had something to say about their new city. Their new home.

***

Danny never thought that he would be having a conversation with Sam about what it meant to be low-key but here he was.

“Yeah, I know you said that you wanted something low-key but there was no way I was going to let you guys live in some shabby apartment. So I bought a place and renovated it for you guys.”

Danny rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on. “Yeah okay I thank you for that. But what's the cafe, book shoppy thing down bottom huh?”

“Well you guys said that you wanted to be self-sufficient.” Sam stated as if that would answer his question. Based on pure context alone it did.

"Sam, you know we literally live in a place called Crime. Alley. Right? I know we border the Narrows but that's not the point.”

She sighed. “You guys refused my help because you said it would ‘feel like using me’, “ Danny could just hear the air quotes from over the line, “but let's face it! Jazz is doing college full time and you and Dani will be going to school. The only person left to work in Dan. And no offense to him but he looks shady AF.”

A shout came from the other side of the house informing them that no offense was taken.

“Anyways,” she continued “Dan looks hella shady. And from what I can tell, no one's gonna hire a shady person. Especially if they come from Crime Alley or the Narrows. The only work he would probably get is from a shady garage or joining a gang and doing straight up crime.”

Danny sighed and shook his head, plopping himself into one of the beanbag chairs Sam furnished the house with. She had a point and she was also painting a clear image in his head about how that would work out.

“Besides, I set up a protection circle after renovations were finished and I've gotta say it's the best work I've done yet.”

He could feel Sam's pride through the phone. She was probably puffing up her chest like a peacock.

“Yeah I felt it coming in. I don't know shit about magic but I could tell that it was pretty good. What does it do again?”

The next hour was filled with endless chatter between the two. It became even longer once Tucker joined the conversation.

Jazz couldn't help but watch her little brother talk so animatedly with his friends. He just looked so happy. Like everything that had happened to them didn't even happen. It was kinda unnerving. What she was seeing here, the happy go lucky boy she saw in the orphanage all those years ago, and what she saw a couple back just wasn't adding up. That couldn't have been her brother. It couldn't. But it was.

Her breathing was becoming ragged as she started to shake. She sighed in relief feeling the presence of Dan beside her.

“He's going to remember, you know.” He said, handing her a cup of jasmine tea. She took it gratefully and Dan continued. “Clockwork said that the seals would break eventually-”

“He also said that he needed a trigger.” She snapped at him. After a moment of realization she apologized. He continued.

“CW doesn't do anything uncalculated Jazz I just want you to know that.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, her voice quivering a bit.

“He had a whole life before he met you, Jazz. One he doesn't remember. That should say something sis.”

He walked away before she could say anything else.

@emergentpanda-blog

@epilepticnerd

@justwannabecat

@wind02summer

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dcxdp #demon twin au #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #batfamily #damien wayne #batman

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peachybeom · 1 year

Text

Valentine Blues

Taehyun x reader

ex-best friends to lovers

Please reblog if you like this!

You were currently experiencing the worst day ever and were about one more tragedy away from having a breakdown.

Huffing violently you stood in the middle of an alleyway, watching your home route bus disappear with the main traffic.

Your phone beeped at the same time and you reached for it while taking rest on a wall nearby.

[10:51pm] Roomate.

Hey Y/n,

I just wanna thank you again for staying out tonight!! Because of you me and Josh can FINALLY enter the home base tonite and get extra juicy iykwim ;)))

Happy Valentines day babes!

Okay yeah now you can feel the breakdown coming.

You were so engrossed in storming all the libraries in town, looking for a specific book for your asshole Professor, to get him to reward you some extra credit, that you had conveniently forgot the stupid promise you had made to your roommate.

As much as you wanted to crash on the soft mattress of your bed and mute the world for rest of the weekend, you weren't desperate enough to walk into your roommate having sex with her co worker while roleplaying as a nurse.

In your peripheral vision, you could see couples huddled together, walking hand in hand. Some sharing an ice cream, others practically devouring each other with their intense stares.

Love was definitely in the air, and it made you nauseous. It wasn't that you were anti love or something, in the past you actually looked forward to this cliche holiday.

But recently you had managed to convince yourself that after several bitter breakups and unrequited crushes, being in a loving, healthy relationship seemed just impossible for you at this point.

Shaking your head, you pushed aside all the pointless worries and tried to focus on your current problem which was being homeless for the night.

You racked your brain to think which one of your crackhead friend would be available to offer you a lodging.

Kai? No. You knew he had plans with his girlfriend in her dorm to watch some random Disney movie and cry like a baby while she consoled him.

Soobin? Doubtful. His still had problems prioritising his girlfriend over odi, so that was a territory you didn't want to enter.

Beomgyu and Jeongin? Never. Those two would definitely be somewhere wasted in a club while they humped their way through another round of beer pong. They had actually tried to convince you for an entire week to join them at the club tonight and form a 'Singles Union', An association which helped each other to get laid. No way you were walking into that trap again.

That left you with Yeonjun- ehhhh. You actually had no idea what he was upto. Last time you heard from him, he was 'Single like a Pringle and definitely ready to Mingle'- his words not yours.

Sighing, you crossed your fingers as you dialled his number on your phone. Hopefully he could be your saving grace.

After a few rings he picked up the phone.

"Hey Junnie, I know it's kind of late and well.....Valentine's day but I really really need a favor from you," You said rushing your words. The cold weather was definitely peeking under your raging emotions.

"Oh hi Y/n, yeah sure what's up," Yeonjun replied, in a whisper.

"Yeah so I actually- I hear a woman's voice. Are you on a date?," You asked, cutting off your own words.

"Yes I am, but I can help you. What's the problem?" He answered.

To this you stifled a laugh. Choi Yeonjun on a date? The no strings attached Choi Yeonjun taking some lady out to have a nice dinner? This day was getting more trippy minute by minute.

"It's a speed dating thing. Now tell me what do you want, I don't have much time." Yeonjun said in an annoyed tone, taking the silence as a way of you teasing him.

Ah that makes so much more sense.

You almost felt bad for interrupting Yeonjun on his 'date' but you knew he was the only one who could save you right now.

So you told him about your problem.

"Hmmm you are aware that you can just crash at my place right? You already know where the key is kept, I won't be home for the night anyways" Yeonjun stated matter of factly.

Your ears perked up at his suggestion and you almost cursed yourself for not thinking about it earlier until a face flashed up in your mind.

"And what about Kang Taehyun?" You questioned grimly.

"Beggars can't be choosers Y/n. Besides it's not like he's the spawn of Satan." Your friends responded.

"But Yeonjun-,"

"Listen I have to go but consider this. It's not like you have any other option. Byee happy love day!" And then Yeonjun abruptly ended the call.

You groaned loudly and stomped your feet like a baby, earning glances from a few pedestrians. But you couldn't care less about them.

You started to weigh your options.

Spending a night at a run in shady motel full with horny couples or with your friend's roommate, the annoying, son of a gun- who also happened to be your ex bestfriend, Kang Taehyun.

After giving both of them intense thought. You decided to swallow your pride and take up Yeonjun's offer. Atleast his bed would be free of mysterious bodily fluids unlike the motel's.

After almost walking for half an hour- a consequence of missing the bus earlier, you finally reached Yeonjun's apartment.

Your feet were giving up on you and your teeth began to clatter lightly due to the cold February weather.

You could hear faint music from the other side of the door.

Great. Taehyun was home.

You weren't surprised though.

Even though you despised Taehyun, you decided to knock on the door instead of unlocking it out of common courtesy.

Nothing happened for a few moments and you knocked again. Still nothing.

Growing impatient you reached for the key and was about to use it when Taehyun opened it.

Correction: A very shirtless dripping wet Taehyun, with a towel around his waist opened the door.

"Lover boy isn't home tonight," Taehyun started with a stern tone. Oblivious to the fact that he was basically half nude standing in front of you.

"I-uh," You gulped, trying to compose yourself.

Taehyun is annoying and irritating and an asshole. His chiseled abs could not facade his shitty personality.

"Yeonjun said I could stay here tonight, Now move." You continued before making your way inside the apartment.

You did feel a bit intrusive and rude but your day had already been a mess and dealing with Kang Taehyun was icing on the cake.

Ignoring and engaging in minimum conversation with him was your goal.

Reminiscing the comfy feeling of a bed, you made a beeline for Yeonjun's room and turned the knob to open the door.

"What the fuck," A string of curse words left your mouth as you saw the room before you.

It was completely trashed and the stench of freshly applied paint almost made you dizzy.

"Yeonjun's room is being renovated, didn't he tell you that?" A voice mocked you from behind.

Taehyun was now leaning against the door frame -now fully dressed- and drying his hair with a hand towel.

You wanted to cry. You knew that this proposition was too good to be true. Breaking down over a trashed room was childish but anyone in your place would feel the same way. Everything was getting on your nerves.

There was no way you could sleep in the living room too, your fingers were already numb and your throat felt scratchy.

"I'm gonna kill him," You muttered under your breath before taking your bag and making your way to the exit only to be stopped by Taehyun midway.

"Hey I can't let you leave. Yeonjun would kill me, also not to forget you are sort of homeless aren't you?" He said raising a hand.

Your eyes widened. So he knew, great.

The last thing you wanted to be infront of him was vulnerable and embarrassed, but here you were.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right you didn't have any other choice.

"So where will I sleep?" You asked raising an eyebrow, refusing to admit defeat.

"In there," Taehyun replied pointing to his bedroom.

"No way I'm sharing a bed with you. You pervert, " You answered him in disbelief.

But the thing was even though you hated Taehyun, you knew that he won't make a move on you without consent.

Deep down you still trusted him.

You, Yeonjun and Taehyun went way back. They were the first two people you ran into on your first day of college, when you were a naive, insecure friendless student. They were the ones who took you in and made you feel welcomed.

"Oh no, You'll take the floor," Taehyun answered bringing you back to reality.

What?

You stared at him blankly as he broke out in a fit of laughter.

"God it feels so good to have the upper hand," He continued.

Suddenly the thought of walking home alone and witnessing your roommate doing the dirty didn't phase you anymore.

So once more you picked your stuff and started walking towards the door when you felt Taehyun grab you wrist.

You'd had enough. Fuck avoiding him.

"What the hell do you want Taehyun. I've already had a crappy day as it is, spent my entire day searching a useless manuscript for that Professor dimwit, ran two fucking stations only to miss my bus home and walked here in this freezing weather with people sucking off each other's face all around me. So No, I don't have the energy to deal with your petty humiliations. Let go." You turned around lashing at him.

Your fists were bawled and your lips quivered. Taehyun always worked you up, he made you feel weak and vulnerable and you hated him for that.

Something changed in Taehyun's expression and his eyes softened. He loosened his hold on your wrist as you pulled it away from him.

"You can take the room. I didn't plan on sleeping there anyways, got some assignments to finish," Taehyun finally spoke up, his voice soft and laced with guilt.

You stared at him for a minute too long and then without saying another word you made your way to the room and shut it behind you.

You sunk down on the floor, once inside.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair you let out a shaky breath.

This wasn't fair. While the rest of the world was busy celebrating love and happiness with their significant others, you were left here moping in the bedroom of the boy, one you managed to successfully detach and despise in your mind for almost a year now.

The reason you were so hostile towards Taehyun wasn't because he was sort of pretentious or his face was too annoyingly perfect, it wasn't because he was so calm in situations where one shouldn't be.

The true reason was that Taehyun made you feel things that you would never allow yourself to feel.

Everything thing he used to do drove you wild. Made your heartbeat like crazy whenever he was around you, the touch of his hands, the small comforting smiles which adorned his face when your eyes met.

You were always rational with your love life, never reaching for places you couldn't but Taehyun was an exception.

He led you on, starred in all your hopeful fantasies and dreams but then left one day only to leave them shattered on the ground.

"Y/n I think you've got it wrong. It's best for us to remain friends don't you think? Best friends can't hurt each other,"

Except Taehyun was wrong. Best friends can hurt each other, they can leave scars which can take ages to heal. Those words still haunted you to this day.

He had rejected you that day.

But it wasn't the response that upset you the most, it was the shitty excuse he gave you, because the promise to remain friends was just as difficult. You could never look at him the same way again, the pain eventually grew into hatred and here you were now.

Holding back tears, you finally looked around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time you've been here, Taehyun had always been a pretty minimalistic person. Everything felt the same except for two photo frames which were placed on his bedside table.

You went up and examined the two pictures closely. One was of the day when Yeonjun, Taehyun and you decided to take a spontaneous road trip to your home town. A smile spread across your lips as you recalled the happy memories.

However it was the second picture which earned a gasp from you. In it, you were shoving a handful of Chocolates into Taehyun's mouth laughing while he looked at the camera with mischievous eyes, hands wrapped around your arms.

You couldn't understand why Taehyun would still keep this picture with him, nevertheless framed and on his bed side table.

Before you could think about anything else, you felt a knock on the door. Startled you dropped the frame on the bed and went ahead to open it.

Taehyun stood there in front of you, holding a jumper in his hands.

"I have to grab some books and here, I figured you would be cold," His expression still apologetic.

His hair was messy and a hint of sleepiness evident in his eyes.

You took the sweater from him and moved to the side to let him in.

Your heart skipped a beat when you brought the jumper closer to your face. It smelled like him.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I acted like an asshole earlier," Taehyun said minutes after, eyes still settled on his giant bookshelf.

For a moment you didn't know how to respond but then you spoke,

"I'm sorry too for lashing out on you, it's just today's been a pain in the ass for me,"

As you were speaking you realised, how much time it had been since the two of you spoke without bickering, let alone apologize to each other.

"I thought you'd probably be out tonight celebrating," He continued now looking at you.

You scoffed at this.

"My love life has been in shambles since forever," you replied letting out a pathetic laugh.

Since you.

"Same for me, if that makes anything better,"

Even though the three of you did not hang out together anymore. Yeonjun always used to give you updates on Taehyun's life even though you pretended not to care.

You had no idea where this conservation was leading. At any moment you could ask him to leave, but there was piece of you that wanted him to stay just like it did a year ago.

"Actually I- uh got something to give you, just a second," Taehyun said abruptly before leaving the room.

He exited the room in such a hurry that you didn't even have time to process what he said.

Something for you? What could it be? The thumping of your heart making it hard to concentrate on anything.

The door opened again and this time Taehyun returned with a mug in his hand.

He stood beside you next to the bed and placed the mug in your hands.

"What's this?" You asked him, puzzled.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best but I couldn't break the promise," Taehyun replied, his expression soft and a little embarrassed.

You still couldn't get it.

"I can't cook or bake to save my life so here's some hot chocolate instead....Happy Valentines Day Y/n."

That's when it hit you. A few years ago you and Taehyun had made a made a pact with each other, for every valentine's if either of you were single or sulky the other person's job would be to look out for them and cook them a 'comfort' food of their choice.

Taehyun remembered. Of course he did, that explains that picture he kept on his nightstand.

You were overwhelmed to say the least.

"Hopefully this makes everything just a bit better," Taehyun finished off.

That's when you heard your own sniffs and felt a tear running down your cheek.

Taehyun looked at you with a panicked expression as he sat beside you and opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

"I can't do this anymore Taehyun, it's too unbearable. I did everything to get over this Despised you, avoided you but I'm just so weak. I'm pathetic," Even though your vision was blurry, you could still clearly see Taehyun's sculpted face in front of you.

It was pathetic really. The facade you managed to pull off for so long came undone the moment he confronted you.

Beomgyu and Jeongin would probably laugh their heads off and label you a loser if they ever got to know about this.

But Taehyun pulled you into a hug, his warm embrace enveloping the whole of you.

"Don't say that, I hurt you and it's my fault. I was a coward Y/n, I didn't want to ruin or complicate things but it only caused pain for both of us,"

He pulled back to face you.

"I know I can't ever make up for the things I said that day, but- fuck it I miss you. There are so many things I want to say that I couldn't back then but most importantly Y/n I- I love you."

Although your mind was an emotional mess. Hearing those three words from Taehyun made the butterflies in your stomach wild. The school girl crush, the giddy feeling you felt everytime Taehyun was near you returned.

"Same," you blurted out meekly not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences.

This earned a wide grin from Taehyun, giving a perfect view of his pearly white teeth and adorable eye whiskers.

He placed a hand on your cheek, wiping the tears and then leaned in dangerously close.

"May I?" He whispered against you lips and without thinking twice you smashed your them against his. This exact moment, you dreamt of it countless time. Being in Taehyun's arms was something you thought you could only see in your dreams. Actually you still weren't sure if this all was real or you were just lost in another dreamland. .

"I've missed you so much y/n oh my god" Taehyun breathed against your lips.

What eventually started soft and slow turned hot and steamy in a matter of seconds. Hands roaming all over and your entire body melting into his.

When Taehyun slipped his hands under your jumper to take it off you suddenly pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.

"What happened, did I do something wrong?" Taehyun asked with a worried look.

You shook your head quickly and pointed to the mug now placed on the nightstand.

"The hot chocolate will get cold," You replied.

Hearing this, Taehyun visibly relaxed and entwined his fingers with yours.

"I can make you a thousand cups of hot chocolate later but right now let's focus on us," He said in a deep voice, laying you down further on the bed.

"Am I really going to get laid with Kang Taehyun on fucking Valentine's day? Past us would be cringing so hard," You teased him further.

Taehyun replied by burying his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day baby. Lets believe in love again."

The next day when you woke up to a naked Taehyun sleeping peacefully beside you. You had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this wasn't a dream.

Never in a million years you thought such a disastrous day could have such a perfect ending.

Taking a sip of the cold chocolate milk from the night before, you started down at his beautiful face.

He gently stirred beside you, eyes opening slowly.

"Good morning, you're real" He speaks in a hoarse voice, eyelids still heavy with sleep.

"Yes Tyun, I am" You smiled at his cute state.

Taehyun pulled you closer to his side and whispered in your hair, "Did I tell you, you make all my problems go away"

"Speaking of problems-" You started but were cut off by the loud bang of a door opening.

"Hey Taehyun, Did Y/n come here- WHAT THE FUCK MY POOR EYES. DO YOU TWO NOT KNOW THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE LIVING IN THIS HOUSE" Yeonjun screamed covering his eyes.

You giggled at Yeonjun's mortifying reaction and slipped yourself deeper into the sheets.

"You're the one walking in without knocking, get the fuck out yeonjun" Taehyun screamed back, throwing a pillow at his direction.

943 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 11 months

Text

This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know.

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

—

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face.

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt.

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging.

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory).

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

—

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind.

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry.

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.”

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour.

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting.

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.”

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days.

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit.

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.”

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!”

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room.

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

—

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him.

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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seungkwansphd · 1 year

Text

to boil a frog

pairing: seungcheol x reader wordcount: 15.6k summary: you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town. genre/themes: tattoo artist!coups, childhood acquaintances to lovers. brother’s best friend (but it’s not so much a theme as it is just a statement of fact). S L O W B U R N. idk that this is even fluff but more like just romance? mention of alcohol, tattoos, needles...cat?

a/n: truly idk what this is and why. it’s so long & self indulgent, but i’m in my soft era i guess, hah!

“Hi, I’m here for my tattoo with Seungcheol?” you checked in with the unfairly stylish receptionist at the front desk of the tattoo and piercing studio. “I booked for 3pm.”

“Okay, yes, here you are!” they smiled up at you, “If you want to just take a seat, I’ll see how he’s doing with prepping the room.”

“Perfect!” you smiled before moving towards the waiting area.

Your foot bounced excitedly as you waited. In addition to being excited to get your first tattoo, you were doubly excited because you had history with Seungcheol. He’d been one of your brother’s closest friends growing up and despite not keeping in touch since they’d left for college, you’d really enjoyed following his artistic evolution on social media. You weren’t sure if he’d recognize you anymore, to be honest. It would be funnier if he didn’t.

“YN?” the receptionist returned, greeting you with a smile, “He’s ready if you’d like to follow me!”

“Sure!” you stood, “I love your dermals, by the way! The placement is so good,” you gushed as you followed them through a short hallway.

“Ah, thank you so much! They’re probably the piercing I worry about ripping out the most, but I do love them,” they chuckled before gesturing to an open door. “He’ll be right through here.”

“Awesome, thank you so much!” you grinned before stepping through.

“Hey,” Seungcheol greeted you after hearing your footsteps. His back was still turned to you as he finished wiping down his countertop. “YN, right? You know what’s funny, one of my friends has a sister who shares your exact name. Like last name and everything,” he chuckled before turning to greet you.

“Huh that’s weird,” you mirrored his laugh, trying to hide your curiosity as his eyes finally met yours. His eyes scanned your face for a few moments before he rolled his eyes and let out a loud laugh.

“Oh I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” he laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?” he leaned back in his chair, looking at you with slight disbelief.

“Mm, here to get a tattoo,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah no shit, but why are you home? I thought you were living that big city life now,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you again. You had always been a sarcastic scamp as a kid and it didn’t surprise him that this was still true.

“Oh did he not tell you?” you asked, referring to your brother. “I’m moving back. Well closer at least. I got a different job offer out here.”

“Oh no, I hadn’t heard,” Seungcheol shook his head, “To be honest, Jihun and I don’t talk all that much anymore. Not since he moved, at least.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “That makes sense. Time zones and whatnot.”

“But that’s cool! New job and I bet your parents will be glad you’ll be closer.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “They are verily psyched.”

“Well that’s dope! It’ll be good to have you around again,” Seungcheol laughed before shifting topics, “So this tattoo. Did you have something in mind? You’re my last appointment, so we can take some time drafting and working on things.”

“I was actually planning on just picking something from your available flash,” you confessed, “I’m a big fan of the latest set. But…,” you flashed him a cheesy grin, “If you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn down a custom design from you. And I expect a friends and family discount, of course.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Seungcheol laughed heartily. You were making the same face you used to make at him in high school when you were in a bind and needed help.

“Not much,” you laughed, eyeing some of the designs up on the walls. “Honestly, I’m down for whatever,” you shrugged.

“How about this? Pick out a few of the flash designs that you like and we can weave something together. I think that’d be fun.”

“Deal,” you grinned, accepting the binder of flash sheets from him. Pursing your lips, you flipped through it in its entirety before going back to the beginning to point out the ones that had caught your eye.

Seungcheol couldn’t help but approve of the way you reviewed the designs in full before pointing out your favorites. You seemed to gravitate towards botanical, insect, and occultish designs which made sense, given how many times you’d attempted to cast spells on him and Jihun as children. More than a few times at sleepovers, they had woken up to find that rocks, leaves, and twigs had been strategically placed around them while they’d been sleeping. He couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he recalled a specific incident where you’d snuck up on him to pluck out one of his hairs. When pressed on the issue, you’d calmly explained that you needed it for a spell to make him go bald.

“Okay, those are all the ones I like best,” you nodded at him, waiting for feedback.

“Alright, let me work something up. You can chill in here,” Seungcheol took the binder back from you, flipping between the designs you’d marked with sticky tabs and moving to draft up something new.

“How long’s it gonna take?” you made a face at him, “Can I go look at the piercing portfolios instead?” you asked, not really appealed by the idea of just sitting and waiting.

“I mean sure,” he shrugged, “Ask Wren for them,” he pointed back towards the reception area, “I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Yay!” you popped up excitedly, clapping your hands together as you walked back towards reception.

“Hey Wren, can I take a peek at the piercers’ portfolios? And also can I ask you where you get your hair done? I’m moving back here soon, but I haven’t lived here in a while and could use a stylist rec.”

“Oh of course!” Wren smiled brightly at you, “So do you know Cheol from when you lived here before?” they asked as they pulled out the piercing portfolios to hand to you.

“Yea, we grew up together,” you nodded, flipping the binders open, “I wouldn’t say we were friends? But he was close friends with my brother so he was at our house a lot.”

“That makes a lot more sense,” Wren nodded with understanding, “I was wondering why he was so chatty with you! Usually his room is way more quiet.”

“Oh yeah, we go way back. A lot of shenanigans,” you grinned as a few septums caught your eye.

“So where do you live now?” Wren inquired after giving you the Instagram handle of their current stylist.

“I’m actually in the process of moving back! I got a job in the next town over, but I was thinking I’d move back around here since there’s more to do? This is actually mostly an apartment hunting trip.”

“Oh my goodness, well let’s be friends when you move back! I’ve been trying to get Cheol to come out and do things more with me and my partner, but he’s kind of introverted so he doesn’t bite all that often.”

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to convince him either,” you laughed, “We’re not exactly close. But I would love to be friends! I don’t know too many people who live here anymore.”

“Okay, deal! Let’s exchange phone numbers then. It’ll be good to hang out with someone less grumpy than Seungcheol,” Wren teased, eyes dancing at the man in question as he entered the reception area.

“So grumpy!” you giggled playfully at his expression, “I’m going to leave you a bad review for poor bedside manner,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“You’d be grumpy too if you had two imps bothering you!” Seungcheol protested with a pout, before beckoning you with his hand, “Now come on, I’m done with my draft.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, following him back to his room.

“What do you think? It might be a little bigger than you had planned, but we can scale down if needed.”

“No, I love it!” you sighed, eyes sparkling as you looked at the design. The final draft was a staghorn beetle with a third eye on its thorax surrounded by a wreath of botanical work that included some of your favorite plants and flowers.

“I had a hard time deciding between a moth or the beetle,” Seungcheol mused, “But you were always a little…unique, so I went with the beetle.”

“Thanks, I think,” you narrowed your eyes at him, unsure if he was sassing you. “I’m a huge fan of this. I think you chose great. Now as far as placement, I am thinking thigh? Left thigh?”

“Do you wanna go this big?” Seungcheol asked. The tattoo artist in him thrilled the idea of the placement, but he wanted to make sure you weren’t overcommitting.

“I mean, I’ll be honest, that wasn’t what I had planned. But don’t you feel like…it deserves it?” you pulled up the leg of your shorts in the mirror to try and envision the placement and it just felt right. “I think at least let’s pop the stencil on so we can see it. But my gut says yeah.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol nodded. That was a good idea.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you nodded furiously at him after he had placed the stencil on. “She’s just gonna be a big bitch, I don’t know what to tell you, Seungcheol. It just feels right, right?”

“Yeah, I agree,” Seungcheol grinned at you, “We can do this in multiple sittings too, so don’t feel like it needs to all be done in one day.”

“I’ll let you know,” you smiled up at him, “Eee! I’m excited!”

“Alright skippy, let’s get you up on this table and we’ll get started,” Seungcheol patted the tattoo table. He made a few adjustments so that your thigh was positioned at a comfortable working height before getting started. “How’s that?” he asked above the buzzing of the tattoo gun.

“Not too bad, actually,” you were surprised to find out, “It’s just…buzzy?”

“Hah! I mean that’s good, okay I’ll keep going then,” he laughed, ducking his head back down to continue working.

The time passed surprisingly quickly. You and Seungcheol caught up on a variety of topics until you ran out of things to talk about. After that, he let you choose some music and you simply watched him work quietly. By your math, it had been around two years since you had last seen him and seven since you’d had an actual conversation with him. Somehow he looked both the same and different. He had always been sturdy, especially in the legs, but he seemed to have filled out more in the arms and shoulders in recent years. His face looked exactly the same, but his hair was now longer than you remembered it ever being in the past. It suited him.

“Doing okay?” he checked in as he worked on a section of shading. He had been going over the same area of skin for a while and was wondering how you were holding up.

“Yup,” you nodded. It was starting to get a bit sensitive, but you weren’t ready to tap out just yet. You focused on inhaling deeply through your nostrils and exhaling slowly through your mouth, which helped.

“Good girl,” he murmured approvingly as his left hand moved to grasp you at the knee, turning your inner thigh out to face him a bit more.

Your eyes flashed to him and your breathing pattern halted as you processed his words. With the soft praise, the somewhat breathy tone of his voice, and the pressure of his fingertips at your inner thigh, you found yourself shivering. Whether Seungcheol was aware of it or not, you found yourself deeply flustered by his praise and wildly confused at your reaction. Swallowing, you tried to gauge whether he even registered what he had just said, but he seemed to still be deeply absorbed in shading.

“Should we take a break?” he looked up suddenly, “You’re getting squirmy, it seems like.”

“I-, uh, yeah,” you did your best to act normal, “Yeah a break would be good, I think,” you managed to answer him.

“Okay,” Seungcheol stood up, “I could stand to stretch my legs anyways.”

“Sounds good,” you gave him a thumbs up as you raised your arms above your head to do some stretching yourself.

Seungcheol peeled off his gloves and turned to take a sip of water. His expression creased once his back was turned to you. Why the hell had he said that to you? It certainly hadn’t been on purpose, but as soon as it left his mouth, he’d wanted to wince. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard it or registered its weirdness.

“Do you need any water or a snack? We’ve been at it for a while,” he offered, pulling open a cabinet to reveal a handful of water bottles and a variety of snacks.

“I have water in my bag, if you don’t mind grabbing it for me? I would eat something though.”

“Should we order something? It’s getting to be around dinner time, I wouldn’t mind eating something proper,” he suggested as he handed you a granola bar.

“Oh yeah! Build in another break in a couple of hours, that sounds good. What’s good to eat around here nowadays?” you asked through a mouthful of granola.

“Tomato Pie is actually still open, if you feel like pizza,” Seungcheol chuckled as he scrolled through restaurants on his phone. “Otherwise it just depends on what you want?”

“I’m not feeling pizza. Let’s save TP for another time,” you shook your head, “What about sushi? Something light or fresh.”

“Oh sure! Um, how about this place?” he offered you his phone. You scanned the PDF menu before nodding.

“Yeah that looks good! I’ll do roll 37 in a combo.”

“Cool, I’ll have Wren order for us. They might want to eat too,” he nodded, stepping out of the room momentarily. Before too long, the sound of the tattoo gun was droning and you fell into an easy quiet with Seungcheol again.

“Please tell me more about Cheol as a kid,” Wren asked desperately as they swirled udon around their chopsticks.

“No,” Seungcheol grumbled.

“Of course!” you answered over him.

“Do y’all have a favorite memory together? Or a most distinct one?”

“Favorite?” your brows furrowed in concentration as you tried to think. “Like I said, he and I weren’t really friends? But, oh!” you clapped your hands together suddenly, “But this one stands out! It was the end of summer before Jihun and Seungcheol were leaving for college.”

“Please don’t tell this story,” Seungcheol buried his face into his hands, ears turning pink.

“Oh it’s cute though!” you argued, but you wouldn’t tell it without his consent. You waited a moment for him to lift his head again, eyebrows raising in a way that you knew to mean ‘go ahead’.

Eyes sparkling, you recalled the night before your brother and Seungcheol moved away for college. You had been nearly inconsolable as you and Jihun really had been close growing up and you simply couldn’t imagine finishing high school without them. He and Seungcheol had tried all manner of things to cheer you up, but nothing worked until they whipped out an emergency dance routine to your then-favorite boy band. They hadn’t really put all that much effort into learning it and mostly tripped over themselves, but it had done the trick and you’d laughed so hard that you cried. That was still an incredibly fond night for you.

“Oh and he was blonde then too! That was an era,” you wrinkled your nose as you finished telling the story.

“He can dance?” Wren looked at you incredulously.

“No, he can’t! But he tried, and that was what was important,” you chuckled heartily. “Honestly, Cheol was kind of just a good person. He was usually nice to me, but generally I just saw glimpses of him around.”

“You’re failing to mention all of the times that I bailed you out when Jihun was busy,” Seungcheol gave you a pointed glance.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you shook your head playfully at him. “He’s always been an old man like this.”

“He is responsible like that, isn’t he?” Wren nodded at you. “Our Studio Daddy.”

“Eugh yuck!” your skin crawled as you heard Wren refer to Seungcheol as Daddy. “No no no, don’t like that one bit!”

“You and me both,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at both of you as he finished up his food. “You done? Let’s finish this bitch up. We’re getting close.”

“You good to lock up, boss?” Wren asked as they cleared their dishes.

“Yeah, you’re good! Just turn off the reception lights and lock the door when you leave. Don’t want any randos wandering in.”

“Sure!”

“So are you in charge?” you asked after Seungcheol had settled back into to finish up the last sections of shading on the beetle legs. Wren kept referring to him as ‘boss’, but you couldn’t tell if it was just good natured ribbing.

“Kind of. I hate being called boss, but I do own the studio now. The last owners were ready to retire and move, so they made me a good deal. I don’t feel like the owner yet, but I guess technically I am.”

“Wow, that’s…that’s really impressive, Seungcheol. I’m proud of you,” you smiled genuinely at him.

“This is weird, you’re never this serious,” he raised an eyebrow at you, a little uncomfortable to receive your genuine praise.

“I know, but I am serious!” you laughed, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve been following you for a while. I’m proud of how you’ve developed your art form and now you even own the studio! I think that’s super dope.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, ducking his head down to hide his blush under the guise of inspecting his work. It wasn’t too much longer before he was finished and applying tattoo dressing. “So for aftercare. Everyone has their own opinion, but I like Saniderm. Keep this one on for 24 hours and remove and wash. If you want, you can apply another sheet. Try to wear loose clothing as much as you can, but life is life. You can always call if you feel like it looks weird, but basically treat it like a wound cause it is.”

“Cool, sounds good!” you gave him a thumbs up. “What’s the damage, boss?”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at you before working up a number that was on the low end of reasonable.

“That’s too low,” you decided, counting out bills until you reached a number that seemed more fair. “Dinner money’s in there too.”

“I-,” Seungcheol was slightly surprised. Not that he thought you’d be stingy, but because he was still accustomed to the you that begged rides off of him and never had gas money.

“I’ve had a big kid job for years now, don’t look so shocked,” you smiled at him, tucking your things back into your bag. “It was really good to see you, Coups. Maybe Wren and I can talk you into a night out sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he half smiled at the old nickname as he waved you out the door. His lips curled into a full smile after the door swung shut. It had been good to see you.

…

“Hey boss?” Wren popped into Seungcheol’s office, trying to seem casual.

“I told you don’t call me that,” he looked up from his sketching. “What is it?”

“Do you have any strong friends that could help move some furniture this weekend? They will be paid.”

“You’ve never paid me to move furniture for you,” he narrowed his eyes at Wren, “Also didn’t you just move like a couple months ago? Why are you moving again?”

“Not me, YN. They just texted me. I guess the moving company cancelled at the last minute, so she’s scrambling for options.”

“Oh, shit. That sucks,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, brow furrowing at the situation. “I mean I could probably scrounge up a few friends.”

“Huh, okay!” Wren fixed their boss with an odd glance before plopping into the empty chair across from him. “Did you and YN ever date? Or like…have a thing?”

“What? No,” Seungcheol made a face of slight distaste at his receptionist. “That has never even crossed my mind until now. And I find it unpleasant.”

“Ugh, boo! Friends to lovers is the best trope,” Wren frowned, “I should’ve known you’d be a party pooper about this too. Oh well, I’ll let YN know that she can count on at least one of you meatheads to show up. I’ll get the address and stuff from her too!”

“Sounds good,” Seungcheol nodded, making a quick note on a scrap piece of paper to see whether Mingyu would be free and to exchange phone numbers with you so you could contact him directly.

…

“Hey Cheol?”

“Huh?” Seungcheol looked up from his desk. He had been very much in the zone, so the interruption had him slightly befuddled. “Oh, YN? What are you doing here?”

“Do you mind if I chill in the lobby and charge my phone? I didn’t see Wren, they must be doing something else, but I didn’t want to just be like a loiterer without someone knowing,” you huffed.

“Yeah, I mean, but you didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?” he asked. You didn’t look completely upended, but you were a little frazzled.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! I just got lost and my phone battery died so I couldn’t pull up a map,” you grumbled, shuffling back to the waiting area and setting your bag down. You rifled through briefly to pull out a charging cable. “I decided to bus and walk home after work, since I’m still trying to get the layout of the city, but I got super lost. I slightly recognized this neighborhood from when I drove in for the tattoo. So here I am!” you gestured as if to say ‘ta-da’.

“Ah, I see,” Cheol couldn’t help but laugh as he took a seat next to you in the lobby. “How is work going?”

“Pretty good! I’m picking up the quirks of the software that they use, but for the most part, the job is very similar to my old one and I’ll be good at it. I like my coworkers too, which is always good.”

“Good,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“How was your day? Busy?”

“It was okay,” he shrugged, “No tattoos today, I have Wednesdays set aside for bookkeeping, paperwork, and other businessy activities. Not my favorite, but gotta do it.”

“And how’s that?” you grinned at him, “If I remember right, you weren’t the most mathematically inclined.”

“You remember correctly,” Seungcheol grimaced.

“If you ever want help with the bookkeeping stuff, let me know. I can build a mean spreadsheet,” you offered. Despite not having been close with him in years, you felt invested in his success.

“Really?” he cocked his head at you, surprised.

“Of course! We were friendly before, right? We can be friends for real this time,” you scrunched your nose playfully at him. “Plus I definitely owe you for sending me Mingyu and Chan. Lifesavers, those two.”

“Yeah, they’re alright,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I might take you up on that spreadsheet thing, cause doing the math by hand is strange and unusual punishment.”

“Sounds good, just text me,” you nodded, eyes lighting up when your phone had charged enough to power itself back on.

“YN!” Wren called your name excitedly as they returned to the reception desk. “Sorry, I was taking inventory. What are you doing here?”

Seungcheol returned to his office as you gave Wren the rundown of your unfortunate turn of events. You wanted to be friends this time around, huh? That could be alright.

…

“I’m starting to regret this whole ‘friends’ thing,” Seungcheol groaned as you dragged him towards the bar. The rest of the studio staff was already there, but he had taken his time closing up, hoping that Wren would’ve run out of patience and just left without him. In the past, this strategy had been successful, but that was before you were part of the equation. You had a longer attention span and just when Seungcheol thought he’d gotten away with it, you’d popped up at his side, asking him if he was ready to go.

“No take backs,” you teased, only releasing the grip on his sleeve after you’d pulled him full inside the establishment. “Wren! We’re here!”

“Finally! Did he do his usual thing of taking way too long?”

“Yes, you were right,” you laughed, hopping onto an empty barstool.

Cheol narrowed his eyes at you. While he had grown to be able to handle Wren’s brand of shenanigans, he wasn’t sure how to feel about your powers combined. He watched you chat excitedly with Vernon about lizards or something before deciding that he needed a beer.

“Anyone else need drinks?” he asked, glancing across the table.

“If you’re buying, then yes!” Hoshi jumped up excitedly and appeared at Seungcheol’s side.

“YN, what do you want?” Wren tapped on your shoulder gently as they moved to order with Cheol.

“Oh, whiskey soda with a cherry?”

“What?!” Wren’s eyebrows pinched together, “Miss girl, this is a dive bar. Can you please

order something normal?”

“Hah! Well then just get me a beer or something,” you shrugged, eager to get back to discussing the Galapagos marine iguana’s algae based diet with Vernon.

“What the hell are they even talking about?” Wren did a double take before their boss tugged them towards the bar.

“It’s better that you probably don’t ask,” he chuckled as he hailed the bartender.

“Hey what can I get you?”

Wren rattled off the group’s order before looking back at you. “Shit, and some sort of beer,” their brow furrowed as they scanned through the options.

“You got cherries back there?” Seungcheol cut through Wren’s thinking.

“Yeah,” the bartender fixed him with a surprised look.

“Okay, then a whiskey soda with a splash of sour and a cherry. Nix that beer.”

“Weird, but sure,” the bartender laughed, moving to fill the order.

“I don’t think she asked for sour?” Wren asked Seungcheol.

“She always forgets to say it. She won’t like it without it,” he shrugged with a wry smile.

Wren watched their boss out of the corner of their eye. In the few weeks of knowing you, Wren had done a little bit of poking and was surprised that you and Seungcheol both independently maintained that nothing had ever happened or even threatened to happen between you two. In fact, you both had such a surprised reaction that made it seem like neither of you had even entertained the possibility. Yet, small things like this happened every so often and would surprise Wren anew that things were just platonic between you two.

“You got it all?” the bartender asked again, watching Cheol and Wren haphazardly gather up the six drinks between them.

“I think we’re good,” Wren finally nodded, leading the way back to the table. “Okay, so…,” they trailed off as they doled out the drinks around the table.

“Oh! I thought I was getting beer?” you were surprised when you received your drink.

“They had cherries,” was all Seungcheol offered up in explanation.

“Oh, well thanks!” you beamed at him before taking a sip.

“So what was the name of that documentary again?” Vernon asked, drawing your attention back, “I might just leave now to watch it,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled out his phone to make a note.

“Oh come on,” you chided him, “We just got here! I’ll give you the name of the documentary at the end of the night, as incentive,” you suggested.

“That’ll work,” he grumbled slightly, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning his attention back to the group’s conversation. Hoshi was regaling the group theatrically about something or the other.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. He was surprised that you’d managed to convince Vernon to stay out. That was something that even he couldn’t pull off sometimes.

“So YN, are you liking your new job?” Hoshi asked after sharing his many personal thoughts and feelings about Tiger King.

“Yes!” you nodded, “I really like everyone at the practice! My trainer is super funny and nice and she said I’m basically ready to fly solo next week,” you grinned, a little nervous now that all eyes were on you.

“Remind me what you do again?” Joshua asked kindly. He was one of the piercers at the studio that you had probably spent the least amount of time with.

“I’m a vet tech! So, you know, helping with exams, running analyses, and giving vaccinations. That kind of thing.”

“Ah, so we have some things in common then,” Joshua quipped about the vaccinations.

“Hey if you’ve got a passion for stabbin’, might as well get paid for it,” you joked, prompting a chorus of laughs.

Eventually, the group broke off, some heading to the dance floor and others moving to play darts. You watched the game of darts until you were ready for a refill. As you waited for the bartender, you fished the cherry out from your melting ice cubes. It was the best part, after all.

“What’re you drinking there?” a voice to your right drew your attention.

“Hm,” you regarded the man with a suspicious glance, “I don’t think I'll tell you. You look like you’d tease me for it.”

“Oh? Well it’ll be tricky to buy you a drink, then,” he chuckled, a little taken aback by your response.

“I-,what?” you blurted out after processing his words.

“I’m Yejun,” he smiled at you, “Can I buy your next drink?”

“Hm, I suppose you can!” you chuckled. You observed his side profile as he flagged down the bartender. “So do you live here, Yejun?”

“I do,” he nodded, “Do you?”

“I do now,” you grinned, “I actually grew up around here and recently moved back for a job. Things are kind of the same, kind of different.”

“Oh really? How long has it been since you lived here? And what’s different?” he asked, smiling charmingly as he leaned against the bar, turning to face you fully.

Seungcheol watched intently as you chatted with this man. His brow furrowed slightly trying to gauge whether he needed to intervene. For a while, your expression was wary, but eventually you broke out into a teasing smile and he could tell that the attention was welcome. You were more than capable of holding your own, Cheol knew that, and so he returned to watching darts.

Wren was stumped as they watched Seungcheol watch you. For a moment he’d almost looked jealous, but that tension eventually dissipated and he returned to darts as if nothing had happened. When Wren looked at you again, you were happily chatting with a man at the bar, which was somehow even more confusing.

…

“Ah, I’m so glad you were free this weekend! You’ve been so wrapped up in Yejun that I feel like I barely see you anymore!” Wren tittered animatedly as they wrapped you up in a hug.

“Wren we hung out on Tuesday,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Yes, and it’s been far too long between then and now. Speaking of, how are things going with Yejun? If he’s not treating you well, I will bring the boys to beat him up!” Wren threatened.

“There’s no need for that at all,” you shook your head vigorously, “Things are going good! I don’t know that I feel super…serious about him, but it’s been fun so far!”

“Hm. Well if you’d rather just date someone at the studio, I’d prefer that so I could see you all the time! I think Vernon is single, and you both love those damned lizards.”

“Hah! Iguanas,” you corrected them as you scanned down the list of cocktails. An aperol spritzer sounded good in the day’s warm weather. “No, I won’t date anyone at the studio. I don’t date friends, that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“You’re smarter than most,” Wren laughed. Couldn’t fault your logic.

“How are things with the boys? I feel like it’s been a bit since I’ve seen everyone. Anything interesting happen lately?”

“Oh, we might have a stray cat hanging around?” Wren clapped their hands together, “There’s a calico that showed up both yesterday and today.”

“Really? No collar or anything, I assume? Does it have a clipped ear? Is it friendly?”

“No, no, and yes,” Wren answered, “Should we do anything special for it?”

“Honestly, we should try and grab it so that we can take it to a vet to get it checked out. See if it’s microchipped. I can bring some stuff from the office and maybe let’s pick up some wet food after lunch? You can bring that to the studio.”

“Sounds good!” Wren nodded gamely. “Aside from that, nothing new at the studio. We’re a boring bunch these days.”

“You know honestly, that’s not a bad thing,” you smiled.

“We should go out for a happy hour sometime this week,” Wren suggested as your entrees arrived. “Maybe Thursday? You can bring Yejun!”

“Oh sure! Are we going to try and bring Seungcheol? Or not worth the fight?” you scrunched your nose up playfully.

“I mean, I always want the whole gang to be there. But might need your help again.”

“I can be on Coups duty,” you laughed, “It’s light work.”

“Alright, well if you’re in then I’m in,” Wren laughed. You did seem to have a way with Seungcheol that nobody else did.

The rest of lunch was filled with odds and ends of conversation before you and Wren walked to the supermarket to pick up a few cans of wet cat food. Wren headed back to the studio and you drove to the veterinary office to pick up some supplies. A humane trap, a cat carrier, and a kitty straightjacket accompanied you back to the tattoo studio.

“I’m here!” you announced as you brought the trap into the reception area.

“Um, what’s happening now?” Minghao, one of the other tattoo artists, looked on curiously as you fiddled with the gate of the humane trap.

“I told YN about our new friend! She’s going to help us trap it so we can take it to the vet.”

“Oh, I see,” Hao chuckled before returning to his room. Since you’d moved back home, you’d clearly established yourself as Wren’s new partner in crime. It was usually entertaining.

“Okay, I think I got it,” you nodded before grabbing a can of food and walking back outside to place the trap against the side of the building. You popped the can open and placed it at the back of the trap. “Now hopefully we catch the stray cat and not some other beastie,” you muttered to yourself as you walked back inside. Last time you’d set up a humane trap, you’d woken up to a livid raccoon instead of the stray you’d set out to capture.

“Hey Wren, can you order more of these supplies please?” Cheol dropped off a list at the receptionist desk, barely registering your presence. Between your help setting up his profit and loss statements and just general shenanigans with Wren, you’d become somewhat of a regular at the studio.

“Sir, yes sir!” Wren saluted playfully before waving you out the door. You had errands to run yet, but you let Wren know to call you if and when the stray showed back up.

…

“Oh my gosh, she is so so cute! I have named her Sausage Patty, we shall call her Patty and I love her very much,” you gushed over drinks. The studio had organized a staff outing again and Yejun had opted to join, so all of your people were in one place.

“You said this was a cat?” Yejun asked, “I thought your place didn’t allow pets?”

“It doesn’t,” you sighed, “But Cheol can keep her in until I can find a new place, right? It isn’t too terribly long before my lease is up,” you pleaded with him hopefully.

“Ah,” Yejun shifted uncomfortably, “I, um. We should talk later,” he ducked his head to whisper in your ear.

“Oh, okay?” you nodded at this ominous feeling request.

“So Yejun, tell us about yourself,” Wren prompted, eager to get to know the person you’d been dating. “YN has mentioned some things, but I’m nosy.”

Yejun chuckled good naturedly and shared his age, where he had lived before here, and that he worked as a financial advisor at the local bank.

“Oh interesting, do you enjoy that?” Joshua asked, eyes dancing.

Seungcheol fixed Joshua and Hoshi with a warning glance as Yejun answered Joshua’s query. He could tell that the boys did not find Yejun particularly interesting, but they didn’t have to in order to be nice. You were the one dating him, after all.

“It’s alright,” Yejun shrugged, not picking up on Shua’s teasing. “There are things that I like and things that I don’t, but that’s any job, isn’t it?”

“Sure is!” Hoshi chimed in mischievously, “For example, Seungcheol is the thing that I don’t like most about my job.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cheol laughed, “If this is where the conversation is going, then I’m going to grab a beer,” he announced. Joshua took the opportunity to join him at the bar.

“My god, our YN is dating a banker? Where did we go wrong, Cheol?” Joshua bemoaned jokingly as he leaned against the bar.

“Joshua,” Cheol warned him, the slightest edge audible in his voice. “Be nice.”

“He’s so dull,” Joshua pressed on, “She can do better.”

“That’s not our business,” Seungcheol shrugged as he accepted a fresh beer from the bartender. “If you can’t be nice, then I suggest you stay away. YN will take it personally if you tell her you don’t like him. Just leave it.”

“Fine,” Joshua ran his tongue over his teeth with displeasure, “A banker of all things. Please.”

“You remember when you dated that flight attendant, right? We all kept it to ourselves until things ended. YN is our friend now, so you can do her the same courtesy.”

“I wish you’d given me your honest feedback then. That was a major waste of my time,” Joshua bristled as he recalled that toxic relationship.

When they returned to the table they found that Hoshi had wandered off with Vernon to play darts and Wren was doing their best to hold the conversation with Yejun. There really wasn’t anything specifically wrong with Yejun, he just didn’t have much in common with any of them. Seungcheol briefly wondered what you two talked about, but it left his mind just as quickly.

“So what did you want to talk about earlier?” you asked Yejun hesitantly as he walked you to your door. There was a nip in the air and your cheeks were flushed pink as you looked up at him.

“Oh, yeah,” his expression filled with unease, “I guess I should let you know that I’m allergic to cats. It hadn’t really come up before, but it’s relevant now.”

“Oh,” your expression fell at this news. Somehow it was both a big deal and not a big deal. On the one hand, you were still in a very casual stage with Yejun and wouldn’t be able to live with Patty for a while even if you and Seungcheol did manage to work something out. But on the other hand, if this was a deal breaker, you wondered if you were just wasting your time. You loved animals and couldn’t envision a future without them. “Are you allergic to other animals too? Or just cats?”

“Mildly allergic to dogs, but my cat allergy is quite severe,” he answered apologetically.

“I see,” you nodded, “Well…I would say that since I’m still not sure I’ll be able to convince Seungcheol to keep Patty for me in the meantime and I’m at least five months out from being at the end of my lease, I’m not sure this needs to change anything between us? What do you think, though?”

“I agree,” Yejun smiled with a sense of relief.

“Great,” you grinned up at him. “Well, I’m home. Maybe we can do something next week?”

“That sounds great!” Yejun pulled you in for a quick peck before moving to drive himself home.

…

“Hello?” Seungcheol’s brows furrowed as he read the name on the incoming call. “YN? Are you okay?”

“Hey,” you sniffed, second guessing yourself. You briefly considered hanging up, but decided it would be helpful to have a sounding board. “Are you busy?”

“No, what’s up?” he shook his head, noting that you hadn’t answered his question.

“Can I swing by? I need some advice. Or maybe just to talk, I’m not sure,” you muttered, pressing your palm against your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” Cheol nodded, “I’m home right now so come by whenever. Patty would like to see you too, I’m sure.”

“Okay, I’ll be over soon then,” you nodded forlornly before ending the call.

You second guessed yourself the entire way over. Maybe this wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Seungcheol about. Maybe you should’ve called Wren instead. But you knew that Wren would not be impartial and you knew, in your gut, that if it wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Cheol about, then you wouldn’t have called him. Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Seungcheol’s place and you weren’t about to drive right back home.

You walked up the steps and tried the doorknob. With all of the shared cat custody, he had gotten into the habit of leaving the front door unlocked when he knew you were on the way. Today was no different.

“I’m here,” you announced generally as you slipped off your shoes. Cheol appeared with a beer before you had gotten the second one off.

“You sounded like you needed a drink,” he smiled sympathetically at you.

“You know all about me nowadays, huh?” you laughed, taking the cold beverage from him.

“Little bit,” he grinned, “So what’s up?” he asked after you took a seat at his kitchen table. You gestured for him to sit down next to you before you answered.

“Yejun and I broke up…I guess? Is it even breaking up if you were just kind of dating?” you thought aloud. “Whatever you want to call it, we will no longer be a thing.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol’s expression creased with worry. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Or what’s helpful?”

“I’m not too torn up about what happened,” you thought for a moment, trying to identify your feelings, “But I am sad. But I don’t feel like I should be sad because it wasn’t that serious? Also he was allergic to cats so was it gonna work out anyways?” you were surprised when you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. You had done such a good job of keeping it together all week, but now talking about it in such clarity really broke something free inside of you and suddenly you were crying.

Seungcheol froze. He had never seen you cry before and he was at a loss about what to do. He wanted to be supportive, but didn’t really know what that should look like for you. Did you want a hug? Did you hate hugs? It frustrated him deeply that he didn’t already know the answer.

“What would be helpful right now?” he found himself asking.

“It’s silly, but I could use a hug,” you sighed, almost rolling your eyes at yourself. You’d never really been one for physical affection, but the thought of being wrapped up in Cheol’s arms seemed comforting in a way that you needed desperately right now.

He moved immediately, standing over you with his arms outstretched. You stood up to fit yourself into him and his arms folded around you without thought. You were surprised at how natural it felt. You allowed yourself a few more sobs into his chest before letting yourself just feel warm and secure in his hold.

Seungcheol experienced the whole gamut of human emotion as he held you. Anger at Yejun for causing you to feel this way. Empathetic sadness. Relief when your crying stopped. And…pride at the feeling of being able to provide you comfort. It was very different and new to Seungcheol to see you in this emotionally vulnerable state, but not unpleasant by any measure.

“Okay, I feel better,” you chuckled sheepishly, pulling away from Cheol and wiping at your cheeks. “I should go home and get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he nodded at you, surprised at the instinct he felt to pull you back in.

“Thanks Cheol. Seriously.”

…

“I think I’m getting cold feet,” Seungcheol grimaced after seeing you mix up the bleach in a somewhat alarming way.

“No, no take backs!” you frowned, turning your foil-covered head towards him.

Several days ago, you had bought the largest containers of bleach powder and developer that they sold at the beauty supply store. You kept saying that you weren’t torn up over Yejun, but you figured why not allow yourself to partake in some of the traditional post-break up rituals? An entirely new haircut didn’t appeal to you, but adding some vivid color did seem fun. You weren’t totally sure how Seungcheol had caught wind of this undertaking, but when he’d thought out loud about going blonde again, Wren had been insistent. Whether it turned out looking good or his hair fell off, it didn’t matter too much to Wren. Both outcomes were equally pleasing.

“I-,” he grimaced, “If I end up having to buzz my head, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Cheol, relax,” you tried to reassure him, “I have done this before. Now just sit still.”

Seungcheol sucked on his teeth before acquiescing and sitting down on the stool in front of you, allowing you to get started. You grinned happily as you ran your fingers through his hair, sectioning them off and applying the bleach to the foils. The way he enjoyed feeling your hands running through his hair was a little surprising to him, but soon he found himself just watching you and smiling at the way you smiled.

“Are you excited to be blonde again?” you asked around three quarters of the way through. “Was the last time in high school?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Cheol thought for a moment, “Didn’t you help me and Jihun that time too?”

“Probably? Like your guys’ senior year?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “That was a good look, if I do say so myself.”

“I agree,” you nodded as you grabbed a spare grocery bag to pop over his completely foiled head. “Okay, now we can let that process for 30 minutes. It should start to feel warm, mine kind of does already,” you touched your own foils gingerly.

“Okay, you wanna watch something while we wait?” he shrugged, flipping on the television.

“Sure,” you nodded, sitting down on the couch. You giggled happily when Patty hopped onto your lap and you scratched her under the chin.

“She loves you,” he chuckled, watching you interact with the cat.

“She loves you too!” you insisted, “Go see your dad,” you whispered at her playfully, which she ignored.

“No, she’s your cat and your cat alone. I’m just her landlord,” Seungcheol chuckled, unable to keep himself from thinking about the implication of ‘dad’.

“Okay, time to check!” you jumped up when the timer sounded. “Let me check mine first and then I’ll check yours,” you announced as you moved to the bathroom mirror.

“How’s it lookin’?” Cheol asked, leaning against the door jamb.

“I think a little longer, I’ll check again in fifteen. Now come here,” you beckoned him over. He moved to face you and spread his feet apart until you could see the top of his head. You peeled back a few foils and were surprised to see that it had lightened sufficiently. Lucky bastard. “I think you’re good to go, Seungcheol! You can rinse that bleach out and then I’ll tone you.”

“Word,” he nodded, helping you remove the rest of the foils and tuck them into garbage. You massaged your fingers through his hair, evaluating the rest of the strands before confirming he was ready to rinse. Without a word, he tugged his shirt up over his head before moving to grab the shower head.

“What are you doing?!” you almost shouted, alarmed by the shedding of clothes.

“I don’t want to get my shirt wet,” he shrugged, somehow pleased at the way you jumped.

“Let me get out of the bathroom first,” you grumbled, flushed in the cheeks as you made your way back into the living room.

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna check your foils again?” he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel.

“Yes,” you nodded, trying to look anywhere but at him as he had not put the shirt back on.

After you had also rinsed the bleach out from your ends, you started mixing up toner and color. For a second time, you were applying and massaging solution into his hair.

“This feels nice,” Cheol remarked with his eyes closed, enjoying your touch.

“Does it?” your eyebrows raised, trying to stay composed. You didn’t need to look at his bare chest. You didn’t. “I guess that makes sense, like a scalp massage, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes slowly opening again to meet your gaze through the mirror. His lips had curled into a half smile and the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a moment.

“Okay, go pop another bag on your head and let that process for 20-ish minutes?” you glanced away, clearing your throat needlessly. As Seungcheol flopped onto the couch, you applied the tanzanite hair dye to your bleached ends, doing your best to avoid staining his bathroom permanently.

“Okay, my timer’s up!” Cheol announced as he burst into the bathroom again unceremoniously. Apparently you’d zoned out after applying the purple dye and you jumped at his intrusion. “Scoot,” he grabbed you at the waist and relocated you easily. He grabbed the showerhead and leaned over the tub, rinsing the silver toner out of his hair. You intended to leave, you wanted to leave, but when it came down to it you couldn’t do anything but stare at his broad back, mind frazzled at the way he had lifted you up so easily.

“Damn,” Seungcheol whistled appreciatively, regarding himself in the mirror, “This looks good!”

“You’re welcome,” you nodded surely at him, “And you doubted me.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, you killed it,” Cheol grinned at you. Without thinking it through, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a squeeze.

“Cheol, dye!” you panicked, pushing him away. “See, now you’re purple,” you frowned, looking at the splotch of purple on his chest that had transferred from your hair. Without thought, you swiped at it with your fingers, hoping to wipe it off before it stained too badly. It took a few passes, but eventually you gathered it all and rinsed it down the sink drain.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol coughed, nerves alight at the friction of your fingertips woefully close to his nipple. A quick shudder ran through him before he could gather his thoughts and compose himself.

“Okay, now get out, I’m going to rinse out my color. Mine’s gonna be messy, so I’m just gonna take an actual shower,” you shooed him out insistently.

After you closed and locked the door for good measure, you let out a sigh. What had you been thinking, touching his bare chest like that? You must be out of your mind. Jumping into the shower, you let the water wash the dye from your hair and the thoughts from your mind.

Seungcheol ruminated while you showered. He had already acknowledged that something in him had shifted after you’d visited him last week. You had always just been Jihun’s sister and that hadn’t really changed much since you’d moved back. However, seeing you in that emotionally vulnerable state last week had started to chip away at the way he thought of you.

“Whew, okay, the ordeal is done!” you laughed as you emerged from the bathroom pointing at the towel wrapped around your head. “I picked a darker one, but I can’t promise that the purple is gonna wash out,” you chuckled sheepishly, skin pink and glowing from the shower.

“I’m not worried about that,” Cheol shrugged, “Now take a rest, stylist,” he teased, patting the couch cushion next to him. Patty chirped in protest at the noisy impact, but settled back into his lap eventually as you finished the show you had started earlier.

…

“Cheol, Cheol!” Wren beckoned Seungcheol as he was walking through the hallway towards the stockroom.

“What?”

“What do you think about starting a Tiktok account for the studio? People seem to really like them, it could help us drum up some business!”

“I don’t know…,” he rubbed his chin contemplatively, “Are you going to run it? I want no part of it, to be honest.”

“Yes, I will!” Wren nodded furiously, “This looks way more fun and I could definitely do it between my normal job responsibilities.”

“I-, okay. But people have to agree to be in your videos, okay? None of this sneaky filming business,” Seungcheol furrowed his brows at them before returning to his office.

To Seungcheol’s surprise, Wren really took initiative of the social media management and within a month or so, had amassed a significant number of followers. Wren was always on their phone anyways, and so kept on top of the latest trends and viral sounds. Seungcheol was also surprised at the ways in which the internet seemed to love their ragtag group. Folks found Joshua to be painfully handsome, Vernon and Hoshi to be side bustingly funny, and Wren to be endearing. You had even featured in a handful of videos when you’d happened to be at the studio and commenters the entire week afterwards playfully demanded ‘more YN content’.

“Cheol, have you reconsidered showing your face on Tiktok?” you asked after watching a ‘the art versus the artist’ tiktok.

“No,” he shook his head firmly.

“Aw man, this would’ve been a good video too!” you pouted, turning your phone to show Wren.

“Oh damn it, yeah it would be!” they shouted woefully.

“What is it?” Coups asked, feigning indifference.

“Okay, so the concept is showing art and then the artist that made it. Cheol you’re so talented, I feel like this is such a nice way to showcase your work!” you pleaded with him, though you were not particularly hopeful. When he didn’t reject you outright, you offered him your phone to show an example.

“Hm,” the corner of his lip pulled back as he contemplated. Your heart rose hopefully in your chest, was he genuinely considering this?

“YN can be in the video too! She’s a good example of healed work!” Wren clapped excitedly at the prospect. “We can start the video zoomed in on her thigh tattoo and then zoom out to show you!”

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows at you in an unspoken question. It seemed that he was in if you were too. Holding back an ecstatic squeal, you nodded, over the moon at finally getting Cheol to agree to be in a Tiktok.

The first section went smoothly. Wren positioned you in front of the studio window for flattering lighting and then zoomed in on your thigh. The second part where they would zoom out to a video of Seungcheol was not as seamless. First they wanted to try a solo shot, which didn’t pass muster. Then you tried posing next to Cheol, which Wren deemed ‘too stiff’. Finally, they took over full creative control and positioned Seungcheol behind you with his face above your shoulder. After a few more failed takes, he didn’t even register it when he leaned forward to mumble idle threats into your ear. Something about ‘never should have agreed to this’ and ‘I don’t know that we need a receptionist anyways’, which made you chuckle.

Wren stilled in the midst of filming. Their gaze moved from the screen and lifted over the phone to observe you directly. The sight of Seungcheol with his face tucked into your neck and making you laugh was so tender it made Wren want to scream at the both of you.

“You got it?” Seungcheol looked up suddenly.

“I mean…I got something,” Wren replied, bemused.

…

You were excited. Jihun was coming home for Thanksgiving! By your math, it had been well over a year since you’d last seen him, so your parents were going all out. They’d invited all of your friends, but Seungcheol had been the only one to take them up on the offer. It was going to be nostalgic, the five of you together, but holidays were all about nostalgia, right? You’d spent the day with your parents, helping them prepare the house and meals. Seungcheol had been assigned to pick up Jihun from the airport when his flight arrived that afternoon, so you were surprised when you heard a knock on the door a little after noon.

“Oh, who-?” your mom wondered as she opened the door, “Seungcheol, darling, you’re early!”

“I know, but I thought I’d come see if I could help with anything until then,” he shrugged, stepping into the threshold.

From the kitchen, you did a double take. Seungcheol was wearing an unbuttoned button down with a matching t-shirt underneath and accessorized with a medium weight chain necklace. He looked nice, which made you momentarily self conscious that you were still wearing chores clothes. You threw him a quick smile before returning to finish washing the sheet pans that were no longer needed.

“Can I help?” he offered.

“You wanna dry?” you suggested, pointing out a dry towel. He nodded and settled in next to you, drying off anything you handed to him. “What time does Jihun’s flight get in again?”

“Three, so I’ll probably leave around two. There’s probably airport traffic today.”

You nodded as you finished up the dishes and set the gloves aside to dry.

“Mom, what else can I help with?” Seungcheol had already wandered off in search of your mother.

You rolled your eyes. He had called your mom ‘Mom’ since you were kids. The first time had been an accident and you had replied ‘No, she’s my mom!’ quite indignantly. Your mom had chuckled and patted young Seungcheol on the head, reassuring him. At first he continued to call her ‘Mom’ mostly to irritate you, but over time, it sort of just became reality. Seungcheol was over at your house so much that he really did feel like family at times.

“You’re so thoughtful, Cheol,” your mom beamed up at him, “You can come help Dad and I wrap dumplings if you like.”

“Sure,” he nodded, hip checking you away from the kitchen sink so he could wash his hands. You huffed indignantly as you took your seat at the dumpling table as well.

“So Seungcheol,” your dad cleared his throat, “How are things at the shop?”

“Good! Not much has changed since you were last there,” he cocked his head thoughtfully.

“You’ve been to the studio?” you queried, confused at the idea of it.

“Yes, of course! We had to congratulate him once we heard he was taking it over. I’m not sure we’re tattoo people, still, but our Cheol is a business owner now!” your dad laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“It’s still a small town, YN,” Seungcheol chuckled, “Not much happens without everyone knowing about it.”

“That’s true,” your mom nodded. For example, she had heard through the grapevine that you often hung out with Seungcheol and his staff at Anne Kim’s bar. Apparently quite an edgy group of youngsters. The Kim’s had long ago given up running the establishment themselves, but it was a good source of passive income and town information.

“That’s so funny, I can’t imagine you there!” you giggled.

“They brought me a cake and everything,” Cheol chuckled, recalling that day fondly. It had taken some explaining to get everyone to understand that they were not, in fact, Seungcheol’s own parents and the cake had done a good job of quieting them all down.

“That’s so cute,” you gushed.

When you’d been younger, it had sometimes bothered you how easy it was for your mom to love your friends in what felt like the same way that she loved you. Now that you were older, you could appreciate her capacity to love in a different way.

“I should go get Jihun,” Seungcheol announced, placing one more lopsided dumpling onto the tray before standing up.

“Drive safe!”

“Will do,” Seungcheol smiled at your mother, disarmingly charming.

“What a good boy,” she preened happily as you finished wrapping up the dumpling filling. “Have you hung out with Seungcheol much since you’ve moved back?” she asked, even though she knew the answer already.

“Occasionally,” you shrugged, but as you did the math you realized that you’d probably seen him more than anyone else in recent days. “I’ve probably hung out with his receptionist, Wren, more though. They’re nice!”

“Oh, Wren! Yes, I remember from the studio. They’re just cute as a button, aren’t they?” your mom chirped. So you weren’t willing to admit that you were closer with Seungcheol than you’d ever been before. That was okay.

“Yes, they really wanted to come for Thanksgiving too, but they decided to go to their partner’s family’s instead.”

“Well, you know you don’t need an excuse to bring them around. Our house is always open. You too,” she gave you a pointed look. You grinned sheepishly. You knew they always wanted you to visit more.

“I’ll bring them around!” you nodded affirmatively.

“In fact, the rest of the shop can come too! They’ll keep us young,” your dad added suddenly. Your dad had always been quieter than your mom, but every so often he said something that left you absolutely slack jawed. This was one of those times.

“I’ll let them know,” you shook your head with a chuckle. “I’m going to go shower and change now.”

Your parents waved you off goodnaturedly and you retreated to your childhood bedroom. Everything you needed was in your duffel bag, but you couldn’t help from getting distracted by all of the stuff that your mom had kept exactly the same. Filled with nostalgia, your fingertips skimmed across the figurines, books, and other memorabilia. Your diary caught your eye and you pulled it out by the spine, curious to read some of your old thoughts. It was all cringey as hell, but it made you laugh as you thumbed through. As you reached the end, something fell out from the pages which surprised you. A polaroid of Seungcheol from the night you had told Wren about many months ago at this point. It was from the night before he and Jihun had left for college and the last time you remembered him being blonde prior to this most recent bleach job. You smiled softly as you peered at it in disbelief. Seungcheol looked the same, but different. His roots were a touch more grown out than they were right now and he was wearing that dog tag necklace that he had felt was so cool back then. What a handsome doofus.

“Woof, nostalgia is one hell of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath, surprised at your own reaction.

Shoving your thoughts aside, you jumped into the shower and focused on getting ready. The warm water soothed you infinitely and you hummed contentedly to yourself as you finished getting ready. You changed into a cute yet comfortable outfit and headed down the stairs to join your parents. You were in the middle of contemplating a cookie when the front door opened dramatically.

“I’m home!” Jihun announced excitedly as he entered the house. To your surprise, not one but two figures followed him inside.

“Jihun-a!” your mom cooed excitedly as she moved towards the door. “Oh who’s this?”

“Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend Hyejin!”

“Oh my goodness, what a surprise!” your mom tittered excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could have prepared?”

“Mom, you’re always prepared anyways! I wanted to surprise you,” Jihun shook his head.

Your parents tsked appropriately at Jihun while ushering Hyejin inside. As they tittered over her, you threw a look at Seungcheol.

“Surprise!” he wiggled his hands weakly, which made you burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes before joining the family in the living room.

“Hyejin, this is my sister, YN,” Jihun gestured towards you as you entered.

“Hi,” you grinned excitedly at Hyejin. “I’m very excited to share with you all of Jihun’s most embarrassing stories!” you shook her hand with a little too much vigor for your brother’s tastes.

“I’m so excited to meet you all!” Hyejin smiled. She was so pretty!

“Genuinely, you’re so pretty, what the hell are you doing with Jihun?” you couldn’t help but ask mischievously.

“YN,” Seungcheol furrowed his brow, “Easy.”

“You’re right, I’ll let you settle in. I’ll ask later,” you whispered surreptitiously to her, drawing a small chuckle. Instead you joined Seungcheol as your parents lightly grilled Hyejin and Jihun about their relationship. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell any of us,” you mumbled at Cheol. “Did he share much on the drive with you?”

“No, not much,” he shook his head. “I was surprised too, I haven’t seen her on his socials or anything. Must be recent?”

“Hm,” you shrugged.

Seungcheol watched you as you looked on with interest. You looked really cute in your holiday cardigan. You could feel Seungcheol’s gaze on you. You kept your eyes facing forward, but you couldn’t help a light shiver before you decided it was time to rejoin the fray. Seungcheol looked on from the kitchen, allowing you this familial moment. Dinner passed quickly, everyone enjoying the opportunity to catch up with or get to know each other. You found that you were a big fan of Hyejin. She was funny, clever, and so easy to talk to. Seungcheol and Jihun caught up easily, like old times. Your parents looked on happily at their lovely little family.

“Okay, time for a movie!” your mom announced once everyone had finished eating.

“Movie?” Hyejin wondered and the rest of you stood.

“Family tradition, movie theater after an early dinner,” Cheol answered with a smile. “Are we playing for right to choose? Or perhaps because we have a guest…?” he gestured to Hyejin.

“Oh I think guest chooses,” you nodded supportively.

“Really?” Hyejin was surprised. “Okay, let me see what’s showing,” she laughed, pulling out her phone.

“Ooh I'm excited, good choice again Hyejin!” you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited in line for concessions.

“Behave,” Seungcheol grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

A jolt of heat darted through your chest at his grip. You suddenly flashed back to the day of your tattoo. This was a very similar feeling to when Seungcheol had grasped your upper thigh and murmured ‘good girl’ to you, effectively knocking the wind from your lungs. You stilled, unable to face him.

“Good girl,” he went on to commend you thoughtlessly as he perused snack options.

You blinked. A sharp exhale left your lungs as you struggled with the effect this was having on you. You wanted to punch Seungcheol, how could he be so careless with his words!

“Popcorn,” you answered the teenager when you got to the front of the line.

“What size?”

“Large,” you answered. You had saved room.

“Should we just share a bucket?” Cheol suggested.

“No! Get your own popcorn,” you scrunched your face at him. The possibility of accidentally brushing hands with him was too much to consider right now.

“Okay, damn,” he chuckled bemusedly as he went to order his own popcorn.

You knew you were acting odd, but you couldn’t help yourself. In an effort to distance yourself from Seungcheol, you wandered towards Jihun and Hyejin, eavesdropping on their conversation. They were discussing something boring so you wandered towards your parents instead.

“YN-ah,” they beckoned you towards them. “How are things since moving back? I know it was always a little small for you here,” your mom asked genuinely.

“You know,” you thought for a moment, wanting to answer honestly, “I was worried I wouldn’t be happy moving back…but I’ve made some good friends and I’m actually pretty happy!”

“That’s great,” your dad smiled at you.

Your mom studied your expression closely, but you didn’t give much away. She was curious whether your contentment was tied to Seungcheol as much as she hoped it would be. Your parents had always been big fans of Cheol throughout childhood. Part of it was proximity, of course, as Seungcheol had been at the house almost constantly throughout middle and high school. But the other part of it was that they saw the ways in which Seungcheol complimented both you and Jihun. Seungcheol had always had a calm energy and presence that didn’t hinder you from being yourself, but also tempered your personality when occasionally necessary.

“Movie time!” your parents announced, ushering everyone towards theater six. As everyone paired off, you found yourself sitting next to Seungcheol.

“We should’ve just shared a popcorn, we paid basically double to have the same amount in separate bags,” he pouted at you.

“I want to have my own bag, leave me alone!” you whisper shouted at him, scrunching your face at him in the dark.

Hyejin giggled as she watched you and Seungcheol with fascination. Jihun had mentioned that you all had been childhood friends, but not that you two were dating. She wondered how long it’d been since you and Seungcheol had gotten together and whether Jihun even knew. She’d have to ask after the movie was over.

“That was good,” you nodded surely as everyone piled into the car. “I was especially a fan of the scenes where the fruit and vegetable carts were upturned. Love me a good ‘my cabbages’ moment!”

“Me too!” Hyejin giggled

The ride back was filled with excited discussion, laughter, and some good natured teasing. Your parents helped themselves to a slice of apple pie and let you all know you were welcome to the leftovers if you got peckish before they retired to bed. Eventually Jihun and Seungcheol wandered off to look at something in the basement, which allowed you to visit with Hyejin more.

“So how long have you and Seungcheol been dating?” she asked.

“W-what?” you sputtered. “Me and Cheol? No, we’re not!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are you really not?” she flushed, “You two seem so close!”

“No, no, don’t be sorry!” you leaned towards her, not wanting her to feel embarrassed, “We are close! But we’ve known each other for years,” you tried to explain.

“That really surprises me. You two seem very much in step with each other,” she mused. She had literally watched him eat the chestnuts that you’d pulled out of your stuffing and set on a side plate.

“I-, I mean I guess we are closer than before these days. I moved back to town a few months ago and Seungcheol is probably one of my closest friends right now,” you thought out loud. You weren’t sure whether it was just the longevity of the relationship, but there was a deep comfort that you had with Seungcheol that just couldn’t be beat.

“Ah, I see,” Hyejin nodded, tipping the rest of her wine back.

“Do you want another drink? Or maybe we can go bother the boys?”

“Why not both?” she laughed, so you led the way.

“Oy, degenerates! What are you doing down here? Smoking weed?” you teased as you bounced down the stairs.

“I mean we could be,” Jihun’s voice called back.

“Holding out on us,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Hyejin as you rounded the corner.

“Hey,” Hyejin grinned, looping an arm around Jihun’s waist and squeezing affectionately.

“Yo,” you punched Seungcheol awkwardly in the shoulder before flopping onto the futon next to him. “It’s been a damn minute since we were all down here, huh!”

“Yes it has,” Cheol’s eyebrows raised dramatically as he considered the length of time. “Probably haven’t been back since before college started.”

Jihun nodded in agreement and they both took turns sharing fun stories with Hyejin until your eyes started drifting shut. These beers really took a toll on you these days.

“Hey, YN,” Seungcheol’s voice and shoulder nudged you awake.

“Hm?” you murmured.

“You should go to bed,” he suggested.

“No, I’m fine! I’m just resting my eyes,” you protested, struggling to keep the aforementioned eyes open.

“Oh not this again,” Seungcheol shook his head. He had fallen for the ‘resting my eyes’ line a grand total of twice before he’d learned his lesson. That just meant you had already dozed off and were going to fall asleep again shortly. “YN, if you don’t go to bed now, I’m going to carry you up.”

“Do it, you won’t,” you goaded him sleepily. You managed half a yawn before he had hucked you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs.

Jihun had been scrolling through his phone, and so looked up with slight confusion to see Hyejin grinning knowingly.

Seungcheol dumped you onto your bed as gently as he could manage, but you still landed with a loud ‘oof’. He scoffed as you curled into your pillows and comforter like a caterpillar into a cocoon. Why couldn’t you just admit you were tired like a normal person?

…

A few weeks after Thanksgiving, you were at Seungcheol’s again spending quality time with Patty when Jihun Facetimed him unexpectedly. Patty was sitting on your chest on the couch when Seungcheol picked up.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Not much, I was just calling to check in. Thanksgiving made me realize that I’ve done a shit job of keeping up with you so I want to change that!”

“Oh, for sure,” Cheol laughed, a little surprised. “Oh, YN is here too!” he directed the phone to you and Patty. You waved from underneath her.

“Oh, YN is there?” you heard Hyejin’s voice in the background. “That reminds me, I’m gonna to text her!”

[hyejin]: ‘hey, I saw an ad for this yesterday and it made me think of you!’

You squealed in excitement at the attached screenshot she sent of a frog stun gun. It even had a little butt on the back! Patty jumped off of your chest in protest of your loud noise, but your excitement was difficult to contain.

[yn]: ‘OMFG. THNEED’

[hyejin]: ‘right?!? when they do their next shop update, i’m ordering for both of us!’

“Coups, look!” you hopped off of the couch excitedly to show Seungcheol, completely derailing his conversation with Jihun. “It’s a frog. And a self defense stun gun. And it has a butt!” you flipped through the pictures excitedly. Seungcheol nodded good naturedly at you before returning to his discussion with Jihun.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” your brother's voice floated across the room. Seungcheol explained the situation, to which Hyejin sent you a slew of texts rapidly.

[hyejin]: ‘are you sure you’re not dating seungcheol?!?’

[hyejin]: ‘you can tell me if you are. i wont tell jihun!’

[hyejin]: ‘im cool!’

[yn]: ‘im not!’

You furrowed your brows slightly. You and Hyejin had kept in touch since Thanksgiving and she had taken to fussing over you like an older sister. For the most part you loved it, but this probing about Cheol made you feel…confused. It wasn’t the first time that people had mistaken you as a couple and you almost understood why. No, the thing that was difficult to contend with was the fact that you…didn’t hate it?

[hyejin]: ‘okay 👀 im just sayin not many people would let a cat live at their house just for a friend’

[hyejin]: ‘but maybe im wrong!’

You sat up and watched Seungcheol over the back of the sofa as he chatted with Jihun. You didn’t bother to process what they were saying, but you watched the way the corner of his lips lifted into a half side, revealing one of his dimples. You’d seen his dimples a million and one times before, but this time it felt like your heart shot up into your throat, clogging it. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you tried to clear it either, that bitch was stuck. Seungcheol threw you a ‘you good?’ glance before returning his attention to your brother. There was nothing remarkable about it. There was no reason it should make you nervous. And yet, the slight pinch between his brows and the clear concern in his eyes made you squirm.

“I gotta go!” you announced to Seungcheol and Jihun, waving casually at them before pulling on your shoes. Patty gave you a departing headbutt and you were out the door.

“I thought she didn’t have plans today,” Seungcheol’s expression was clearly confused after you left.

While you drove home with all of the windows rolled down in an effort to regain composure, Seungcheol tied up his conversation with Jihun. The house felt quite empty now that he wasn’t on a call and you were also gone. It was a surprising thought for him to have, since he’d long ago gotten accustomed to being alone and in fact quite liked it. But he’d be an idiot to ignore the fact that his life had changed dimensionally since you’d come back into it.

You’d coaxed him into a closer friendship with his staff members, gifted him the furry little gremlin that he now looked forward to coming home to, and you yourself had become someone that he thought of often and cared for deeply. He’d been unsure whether it was the same kind of proximity based fondness that you had shared before, but upon further consideration, he concluded that this was not the case. These days he didn’t just tolerate you. He sought you out. He wanted to fill his time with you. He wondered if you felt the same.

…

[wren]: ‘come on, please?!’

[yn]: ‘i’m tired 😩’

You frowned at your phone. You weren’t actually so tired that you didn’t want to go out, but you felt a sort of reluctance to go because you’d been avoiding seeing Seungcheol. It had taken some time to sort through your feelings, but you’d finally accepted that you were struggling with an attraction to him that you needed to get over. You were sure you could, you just needed time.

Seungcheol ran his hands through his hair as he finished up his profit and loss statements for the month. It had been a good month. In fact, an extraordinarily good month, which also meant that there were many more transactions to account for. In the past, he probably would’ve rather walked off of a bridge than do his P&Ls, but the spreadsheets that you’d help build for him were a genuine lifesaver. You’d even helped with figuring out how to automate data downloads from the PoS system which saved him and Wren a huge amount of headache. He really needed to treat you to dinner or something as a thank you.

[seungcheol]: ‘when are you free?’

You stared at your phone. What the hell was in the water today? Your heart had jumped when you’d seen Seungcheol’s text. You were of two minds: one wanted to read and respond to it immediately while the other wanted to throw the phone into a garbage chute. As usual, you let both sides percolate before reaching a happy compromise. You read the text but didn’t respond until later.

[yn]: ‘kind of depends. what for?’

[seungcheol]: ‘i want to take you out.’

[seungcheol]: ‘as a thank you for the p&l spreadsheets’

Your hopes rose and fell just as quickly as you read the texts in sequence. It was a professional matter.

[yn]: ‘that’s not necessary! friends help each other’

His brow scrunched upon reading the word ‘friend’. It sent such a pang through his chest that he wasn’t expecting, but he felt persistent today.

[seungcheol]: ‘i dont see why that should stop me from showing you that i appreciate you. let me know when you’re free for dinner’

Your heart flip flopped in your chest. How could you get through a dinner with him when just a text affected you like this? And yet you had no valid reason to say no.

…

You tapped your toe nervously as you waited for Seungcheol. You had decided on Friday after work and he had insisted on driving you, because he had wanted to keep the restaurant a surprise. So here you were, 6:12 pm on Friday and incredibly, unreasonably nervous about dinner. You wondered if you could still cancel.

[seungcheol]: ‘here’

“So much for that,” you muttered to yourself before stepping out of your apartment. The only indication of dress code that Cheol had given you was ‘don’t look like a hobo’, so you’d chosen a simple black dress with a colorful and fun cardigan. There was a slight chill in the air, so you pulled the cardigan a little tighter around yourself as you climbed into his car.

“Hey,” he broke into a smile as soon as he saw you. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you buckled your seatbelt. You gave him a quick once over as he backed out of the parking space. He was dressed in all black and the visual focal point was a half-pearl, half-chain choker necklace that really stood out. “Oh I like that!”

“I thought you might,” he grinned at you as he leaned back, settling into his seat after getting onto the highway. “It seems your kind of style,” he explained when your brows furrowed.

“Ah,” you nodded, not quite sure what to say. “So where are we eating, will you tell me now?”

“Yes. We’re going to Kyōten, in the city.”

“What?!” you glanced at him, slightly alarmed, “That’s kind of a haul!”

“It’s not too bad. Plus our reservation is at 7:30. I budgeted enough time.”

“Still, you don’t have to drive that far! We could’ve eaten somewhere in town,” you grumbled.

“I’ve been wanting to try this place too. Not everything’s about you, baby,” he teased. This was true in part. Seungcheol was interested in the omakase menu at this restaurant, but he likely wouldn’t have gone by himself. “How’s work been, by the way? I feel like I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

You flushed at the moniker ‘baby’ before pushing through it to answer him. It was true, you’d been working a handful of extra shifts at work here and there in preparation for the holiday season. But you’d also been making yourself scarce because you still couldn’t control the physical reaction that you sometimes had to Seungcheol. You omitted that part in your answer, but did share a handful of funny stories that had happened at work lately. Seungcheol, in turn, updated you on some of the interesting happenings at the studio as of late. Hoshi had finally been able to do the largest tiger flash that he had available, which had been incredibly exciting to him. Joshua had attended the annual APP conference and made a lot of good contacts. The studio was working out details on a guest piercer spot in the near future. Before you knew it, you had pulled into the parking ramp near the restaurant.

“Oh it’s windy!” you remarked as you stepped out of the car.

“Here,” Seungcheol pulled a spare puffer jacket out of his backseat and handed it to you. You’d wrapped it around yourself gratefully as you completed the short walk to Kyōten.

“We have a reservation for 7:30. Seungcheol,” he informed the hostess. She nodded kindly and led you through the dark space towards the sushi bar. You remarked at the beautiful architecture and decor as you hopped onto the bar stool. “I’ll just stand, if that’s okay?” he asked the hostess, tucking his stool slightly to his left under the bar.

“Have you all done this before?” you asked the people sitting next to you as you waited.

“No, we haven’t!” they shook their heads, “Have you?”

“Oh thank god! No, I definitely haven’t. You haven’t either, right?” you asked Seungcheol, realizing you didn’t know.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Don’t be nervous! Just eat what they give you,” the couple on the other side of the bar from you smiled kindly. “The chefs here are great, they’re very interactive and fun. Just have a good time.”

Reassured now that the ice was broken, the six of you chatted before the chef came. The pair next to you shared that they were celebrating their second anniversary. They had also driven in and were staying for a long weekend in the city.

“That’s so fun, I love that! We’re just here for the night,” you smiled at them, the sake warming you from the inside out.

“What about you two? Is this a special occasion?”

“Sort of,” Seungcheol answered, draping his arm across the back of your stool as he did so. “It’s a thank you dinner for YN. She’s been a huge help with my business this year, so I thought I ought to show her my appreciation properly.”

“What do you do?” Miseon asked curiously.

“I run a tattoo and piercing studio,” he answered.

As he explained in more detail, you felt like your back was itching, the way you were hyper aware of his arm draped behind you. Seungcheol had gotten closer and closer to you as he’d engaged in the conversation with Miseon and Nuri. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to physical closeness with him, but the interior of this restaurant was so intimately lit that it tricked you into overthinking the whole situation. Even after the chef arrived and dinner commenced, he didn’t distance himself from you at all.

“Would you like to join us for a few drinks? We’re having such fun with you!” Nuri asked once you were all back on the sidewalk.

Seungcheol looked to you, indicating that he was game. The way you smiled back at him, flushed in the apples of your cheeks, made his breath hitch.

“Sure!” you nodded excitedly. You’d also really enjoyed Nuri and Miseon and were happy to keep the night going.

The four of you did some quick googling before settling on a bar a few blocks away. At the second crosswalk, you’d been a little too engaged in the conversation and nearly stepped into oncoming traffic. Without thought, Seungcheol had hooked his arm around your waist to pull you back and simply left it there. Your eyes flew to him at this touch. He was looking straight ahead and you were surprised when the idea of planting a kiss along his jaw popped into your mind. You flushed and shook your head when his head turned to look at you again.

The bar was cute and the next hours passed quickly as you chatted with Nuri and Miseon and enjoyed the ambiance and music. A few times you had looked up to see Seungcheol’s dark eyes trained on you from across the bar and you’d flushed each time. Before too long you were saying your goodbyes and driving back home. The car was quiet as you and Seugcheol both reflected on the night.

Even though he had framed it up as a ‘thank you’ dinner, you felt like that label didn’t quite fit. You might have been overthinking it, but Kyōten had been so intimate and the way that Seungcheol’s touches seemed to linger felt different than your usual closeness. You’d also been mistaken as a couple a few times and neither of you had bothered to correct them, which you usually did. Perhaps it was the context of being in a city you didn’t live in, but it just didn’t seem important this time.

Seungcheol tapped his fingers against the gearshift as he drove. He’d known Kyōten might be a little more romantic than your typical dinner with a friend, but he’d chosen it because he’d overheard you share with Wren that you were really interested in trying omakase style dining. It hadn’t been totally conscious on his part, but he’d found himself finding ways to be closer to you throughout the evening and he’d been surprised at how you’d responded. You hadn’t shied away from his touch and he’d seen you blush a few times throughout the night in ways that made him wonder if his attraction towards you wasn't completely one sided.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, glancing towards you as he drove down the dark roads.

“Yes,” you beamed at him, “Although you spent entirely too much money, Cheol.”

“Hey!” he cut you off with a stern look, “I told you, this is a show of my appreciation. Let me just appreciate you.”

“Hm,” you pursed your lips at him, trying and failing to not imagine those words in a different context.

Seungcheol pressed his tongue against his cheek. He’d always enjoyed the way you reacted when he teased you.

“Thanks for driving,” you threw him a smile before reaching for the door handle. You were eager to get out of this car, which felt entirely too hot right now.

“I’ll walk you,” he announced, leaving the car as well and stepping to your side.

“Oh?” you were surprised. This was not typical.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” he commented as you stepped onto the front stoop of your apartment building.

“Me too!” you beamed, eyes creasing softly at him.

“I want to tell you something,” he cleared his throat and your heart stopped.

“O-kay,” you nodded a moment later when you were actually able to retrieve your voice.

“I-, uh,” he cleared his throat again when he tried to speak. “You are very important to me, so I want you to know that nothing has to change between us after I say what I say.”

You blinked at him, heart racing so fast that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to hear him over its beating.

“My life has changed a lot since you moved back. I am closer to my friends, the shop is doing really well, and I have a cat that I guess I love now. And that’s mostly because of you, so thank you for that. But also, I, uh, my feelings about you have changed. I think about you often and my house honestly just feels empty when you’re not there. So I like you,” he felt like he was shouting now, so he tried to reign it in, “I like you and you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know.”

Your brain had screeched to a halt and you were frozen throughout most of his confession. The cogs started turning again as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead and let you know he’d text you tomorrow. He was back in his car when you’d gathered yourself enough to run after him.

“Hey!” you practically jumped out in front of his car as he tried to leave the parking spot.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he shouted, jumping out of the car after slamming on the brakes and putting it back in park.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You couldn’t explain why, but you were fuming. “You need to be less careless with your words!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Seungcheol threw his hands up, completely caught off guard by the fact that you were…yelling at him?

“You can’t just call me ‘good girl’ while you’re tattooing my inner thigh or tell me you like me and then leave? What about me and my sanity?”

“What?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised into his hairline as he processed what you had said. Surely you didn’t mean…?

He was taking too long to understand so you walked towards him, grabbed him by that damned pearl chain necklace, and pulled him into a kiss. He was surprised for just a moment before he was kissing you back intently.

“Were you doing it on purpose?” you asked between kisses.

“What?” he asked, not totally grasping what you were asking.

“Was it on purpose?” you reiterated, fingers teasing at the hairs on the back of his neck. “Your little touches, grabbing my waist? You were driving me crazy,” you exhaled sharply.

Seungcheol paused at this confession, drawing back to look at you fully. His eyes raked over you and you grew hot under his gaze.

“It wasn’t, but I guess I couldn’t help myself,” he chuckled, lips curling into a half smile.

“Turn your car off,” you demanded and Seungcheol was more than happy to comply.

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