#can you guys tell that i just finished submitting a stack of papers

[mearchy]

Fox's reports are the most sardonic, passive aggressive reports anyone in the Senate Security Office has ever read. But they have to accept them because they are all technically by-the-book correct and unnervingly thorough, and nobody can find fault with them as hard as they try. The less caf he has had, the worse it is. He goes from "As per Coruscant Guard records..." and "As all Senate employees are aware..."

to "As one might be able to assume by means of basic observation and an approximately swamp-rat level of intelligence-" and "To elaborate on that, as one is required by Report Administration Regulation Clause 365:1a to do, despite a statistically proven decline in reading comprehension among government employees-*"

My man is hitting the keys one by one so hard his keypad breaks. He's got reflexive tears of manic rage in his eyes. He's imbuing his incident reports with so much hysteria the next Jedi who comes into contact with them gets a headache. Free him

*he has a source for this, by the way. Fox includes citations in his reports like a maniac. Like Cody. This is because if he has to countenance one more follow-up email than is necessary he will brain himself against the desk. He will commit lobotomy by pencil. Just you try and fucking stop him, Thorn.

[spookysanta]

The TA - two. (h.c., c.e.)

Summary: everything about this situation is...weird.

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: none

here’s part two! she’s a bit lengthy, fyi. enjoy! :)

UNEDITED

After a couple of days, she’d gotten used to the formality that is Professor Chris Evans (and company). She’d gotten used to the emails that open with, “I hope this message finds you well”, even though it rarely did.

So thanks, Chris, for the well-wishes but no thank you.

The first day of Fall classes was stressful, to say the least. She woke up later than she intended for her 8 a.m. class, then she got lost on her trip from one lecture hall to another, and by the time she had to get to Franklin for Chris’ class, she was practically running across campus. She burst into the lecture hall two minutes before class was set to begin. Walking to the main podium where Chris stood preparing for that day’s lecture, she breathed out, “Sorry I’m late.”

He turned to her with a smirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just a bit of a rough day is all.” She waved him off, completely ignoring the loud slam of the lecture hall’s doors. A figure emerged next to her holding a tray of coffees from The Bistro.

“Good morning!” Henry greeted, clearly having a better day than she was. He offered Chris a cup, then set the tray down on the desk that sat adjacent to the presenter’s podium, taking the other two and offering one to her. She thanked him quietly. “You ready?” he asked Chris.

Chris laughed. And for the first time, she laughed along with him. And seeing it firsthand, she could tell they had a good relationship by the way they interacted. She could tell that Chris genuinely enjoys Henry’s company as his TA, and not just for the things that he does to be helpful—they have a good thing. “Yeah, I’m ready—I’m excited. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“No problem. It was on my way here.”

She felt out of place as they engaged in banter.

She looked around the steadily filling classroom and saw students from all walks of life; she’ll admit, that’s one of the only perks of college in her mind—there was always someone for everyone. There are all kinds of people from different races, religions, creeds—all gathering to pursue higher education. In that respect, she found college to be interesting. But in any other regard, she hated it.

Henry took note of her silence, “Are you excited, (Y/N)?”

She turned to him sharply, not having anticipated him addressing her so suddenly. She nodded curtly, “Yep.”

“You don’t sound like it.” Chris retorted as he set up his laptop to broadcast a slideshow on the projector screens that took up nearly all of the space on the wall behind them. “C’mon, this is going to be fun!”

She offered them a dry chuckle as she watched the screens illuminate with a bright white background and black lettering that read:

WELCOME TO CHEMISTRY 120, SECTION D346-0

PROFESSOR CHRIS EVANS, D. SC.

HENRY CAVILL AND (Y/N) (Y/L/N), GRADUATE AND UNDERGRADUATE TAs

Yeah, that’s totally not intimidating. “Ooh,” Henry nudged her with his elbow, “look at that—you’re official.” He turned to her, pointing an index finger at the screens. “Listen, this is going to be no big deal.”

“You sound like him.” She pointed to Chris, who was hooking up a small microphone that he would connect to his shirt.

“Well I mean it. You’ll be fine. The most we’re going to have to do is pass out papers and introduce ourselves—easy peasy.”

She hummed in understanding. “Mhm.” She took a big gulp from her coffee cup, its liquid now only warm from Henry’s commute. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Henry shrugged, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good morning, class.” Chris spoke into the microphone, his voice projecting through the speakers in the room. The chatter among students died down quickly. “I’m Professor Evans and welcome to Chemistry 120, section D346-0.” She noticed that he was like her—he fidgeted, too. His hands were behind his back, but she could see him fiddling with the remote that was in them. One hand was wrapped around his opposite wrist, and his free hand twirled the remote between his fingers.

“I’d like for my TAs to introduce themselves. They’ll be helping you a lot this semester.”

He took a handheld microphone from behind the podium and turned it on, handing it to Henry. “I’m Henry, I’m a graduate TA studying microbiology.” He stated with a muted wave. “I’ve been working with Professor Evans for about four semesters now, so I’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have.” He handed the microphone to her, his thumb brushing hers when she took it. Their eyes met briefly.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N). I’m an undergraduate student studying bio. This is my first semester as a TA for this class so I’m very excited to work with all of you.” There. That was easy enough. Henry looked to her with a small smile.

“Alright,” Chris spoke up after she handed him the microphone to be put away, “so I’ll be quick with the introductory stuff—I know no-one wants to hear me drone on about safety procedures for the next ninety minutes.” He gestured to a stack of papers that sat on the desk. “Could you pass those out?” he asked Henry and (Y/N) politely.

Henry nodded, effortlessly picking up the large stack of papers. He approached her and instructed in a whisper, “Take half.” She grabbed a substantial stack of papers, making her way across half of the lecture hall and handing students a sheet of paper going by rows, mimicking the movements that Henry made. They both made it to the middle; there they stood on a walkway that connected to the path that led to the front of the room. He followed behind her back to the podium as they awaited their next tasks.

“So, what you just got are information forms. We’re going to read them, go over the most important stuff, then at the end, you’ll sign them, and they’ll be collected.” Chris cleared his throat, beginning to read from the page, only really emphasizing the important aspects of the course.

She took a page off the stack, reading as he spoke. 

COURSE POLICIES:

No food/drink/snacks in the lecture hall or lab (water in a clear container is allowed)

No electronics of any kind are allowed in the lab

Late work will not be accepted in any capacity

All paper assignments must be turned in at the end of each class to TAs

Online work must be submitted before deadline—pages will close after the assigned time

Attendance (especially on lab days) is mandatory

All absences are considered unexcused unless otherwise authorized with a note or confirmation e-mail

Now it’s all come full circle for her. She can clearly see why a lot of his previous students called him a hard ass. And majority of the policies he listed, she doesn’t even plan to uphold herself. So how could she expect three-hundred students—freshmen, at that—to comply?

The policies were reasonable, sure, but hard to enforce.

He made sure to emphasize the dress code, late work, and attendance policies; it was apparent that those were real issues among his classes over the years. “Additionally,” he continued after having spoken without stopping for twenty minutes, “this is the only introductory chemistry class I’m teaching this semester, which means everything you submit will be read and graded. There are no grades for completion or participation.”

She heard several students groan. She leaned to Henry, “Wait. He teaches other classes?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered back, “He also teaches upper-level biology and organic chemistry, and he taught a statistics class last year but I’m not sure if he still does.”

Damn. No wonder he was so organized.

And she found that interesting; that definitely explained why he would have her and Henry do a lot of the grading for this class’ assignments. He probably didn’t have time to breathe in between classes, let alone grade three-hundred lab reports.

By the end of his class that seemed never-ending, she was absolutely exhausted. She was having daydreams of her cozy bed when Henry approached her after he finished collecting signed forms from his side of the classroom. “You alright?” Henry asked.

She stifled a yawn, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good class today, guys. I’m really excited for this semester.” Chris gushed, visibly happy with their help.

“Me, too.” Replied Henry. “I think this batch will be better than last semester’s.”

“Ugh. Don’t even get me started on last semester’s class.” He shook his head as he began to gather papers and his laptop into his bag. “I’ve never wanted to rip my hair out more than I did last semester.”

Henry laughed. “Trust me, I know.”

The two assistants prepared themselves to leave. Before they said their “goodbyes”, Chris asked them to meet with him in his office (as there was another class filing in).

“So,” Chris closed the door to his office, muffling the bustle of the room outside that was quickly filling up with the literature class that started right after theirs. “I wanted to know what you’ll be doing this weekend.”

“Um…” (Y/N) was confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to get a head start on grading these papers and entering everyone’s information into the database.” He pulled the stack of forms from his bag and clamped them together with a binder clip. “So, if you and Henry are free this weekend, that’d really help me out.”

“I’m not busy,” Henry shrugged. “I keep my weekends open anyway.”

She wasn’t busy either, but the weekend to work? This couldn’t wait until later?

“I’ll be free this weekend.” She kept her voice cheery but really regretted not lying when she had the chance.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together. “We’ll plan for a time for you to come over and we’ll knock it out in an hour or two.” Come over?

“Come over where?” she asked.

“Oh! My house.” Chris clarified, “When Henry and I had a lot of papers to grade, he usually comes over to my place early in the morning, we grade papers, and we go about our day. That’s not an issue for you, is it?”

“No, not at all.” It was a bit odd, though. But she’ll be honest in saying that she found all of this…odd in one way or another.

“Cool.” Henry looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going, I don’t want to miss tonight’s game.”

Chris’ eyes widened in realization. “Dammit.” He swore, “I forgot there was a game on tonight.” He stood and grabbed his things, going around his desk to the door, and ushering us out of his office. He shut and locked the door behind them. They walked swiftly and quietly across the front of the classroom and out the door to converse in the hallway. “Alright, you guys. Have a great rest of your day, and don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.” He waved, then turned and left through the faculty doors.

Henry looked at her. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Together, they walked leisurely down the stairs and out of the lecture hall, through the hustle of the “afternoon class rush”.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time today. “You’re quiet.”

“Do you think…” she paused, wanting to pick the right words to say. “do you think it’s—I don’t know—odd that Chris wants us to meet at his house to grade papers?”

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems weird to me.” Someone who was on their phone bumped into her causing her to drop the books she was carrying. “Shit.” She went to grab her book, but Henry picked it up for her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened the doors to the lecture hall, where they looked outside and saw that it was pouring. “Wow, it’s really comin’ down out there.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t bring an umbrella.” She groaned out loud. “Fuck my life.”

Henry laughed at her misery, “You need a ride?”

“Your car’s fixed?”

“Yeah.��� He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. “I took it to the shop after our meeting. Obviously I had to call a tow truck before I could get it to the mechanic’s, but I got it there eventually. It’s doing great now in case you were wondering—it almost runs perfectly.”

“I wasn’t.” she gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Thanks for the information, though.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed playfully. “You want a ride or not?”

She really shouldn’t. This guy, as holy as he is in the eye of the Almighty Chris, could be a monster. He could be a serial killer. He could be plotting to attack her—she’d lost count of how many news stories she’s read about kidnappings on college campuses—and who knows, she could be on his list.

But then again, it was pouring outside, and the walk back to her apartment was long. The air was getting cooler and combined with the darkness of the sky and the time of day, she’d end up with the flu by the end of the afternoon.

“Fine.”

He took his jacket from his shoulders and handed it to her. “Here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Put it on.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You need it more than me, okay? So put the jacket on.” He commanded.

She didn’t like that he didn’t ask nicely, but she did it anyway. And she wouldn’t tell him out loud, but goodness, his jacket smelled good. Like every kind of good smell that someone would want on a man combined with the smell of men’s shampoo in the hood, she was in heaven. She tried not to let it show but she made sure to take deep inhales through her nose as they journeyed to his car.

They exited the lecture hall, running down the slippery cobblestone sidewalk like the rest of the students in their avoidance of getting wet from the impending storm. He guided her to his car, opening the door for her, then climbed in the driver’s seat. “Whew,” he breathed, buckling his seatbelt. “that was interesting.”

His car was quite nice. She’d expected it to be really junky and out of shape—because of the godforsaken breakdown—but it was surprisingly clean and smelled good, too. Not in a cologne way, but in a “detailed car” way.

“Yeah, it was.” She replied, also trying to catch her breath from running, “You have a nice car.”

“Thank you. I was trying to tell you that earlier, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

“No, I didn’t.” she laughed. “You proved me wrong.”

He revved the engine. “So, where to?”

“Brookwood Heights.”

“Shut up.” He all but exclaimed, his eyes widening to the size of Mars. “I live there!”

Oh, that’s great.

“Really? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, that’s so funny!” he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the busy street. “What a small world.”

They managed to get to their apartment complex without issue. He helped her get all her belongings out of the car, then grabbed his and locked his car before they went inside, the cool air of the complex’s lobby almost smacking them in the face. They trudged to the elevator, entering the small box and leaning against the guardrails in exhaustion. She pressed the 3 on the keypad. “What floor?”

Not looking up from his phone, he mumbled, “3.”

Are you kidding me?

“That’s my floor.”

His head snapped up. “So, we’re floormates, huh?” he smirked.

“I guess so.”

The elevator dinged and they stepped out. It seemed like they were deliberately walking slowly down the hall so that they could see where the other person would drop off, but they just kept walking side-by-side until they got to the very end of the hall. She stopped in front of her door. “Well, this is me.”

He stood at the door across the hall from hers and pointed at the number, “This is me.”

So, they’re neighbors.

They’re co-workers…and now they’re neighbors.

Because of course, life can’t get any more cliché than it already is.

“See you around?” he called to her once he unlocked his front door.

“Yeah, see you around.” She waved with a small smile, opening her front door and stepping into her abode.

Damn, she missed her apartment today. She tossed her keys in the bowl by the door and took off her wet shoes. Then she set her bag on the adjacent counter. She shuffled off her jacket—

Wait.

This wasn’t her jacket. She didn’t wear a jacket today. It was Henry’s jacket.

She wanted to yell. She didn’t feel like being social anymore today. She decided to set the jacket on the coat rack by the front door; that way she’ll be able to bring it to him in the morning. She went to her bedroom and stripped from her wet clothes, going into the restroom and starting a shower.

Finally.

*

The following days were surprisingly good. She didn’t gripe and moan about the weather—it was rainy every morning that week—Henry rapped on her front door at the same time and offered to drive her to Franklin Hall. Some days, she accepted, and they even stopped at The Bistro if they had the time. Some days she didn’t, and those were the days where Henry seemed more on edge, only to visibly settle when he saw her enter the classroom or laboratory.

Today was Saturday; today was the day that she had to meet at Chris’ house to grade the lab reports from Tuesday and Thursday’s classes.

She wasn’t particularly excited about it.

She had to get up early because Chris wanted to get started at nine a.m., which was ungodly early for a Saturday—or any day, really.

Three knocks sounded sharply on her front door, “You ready?” Henry’s voice bellowed through the wood.

She rushed, opening the front door. “Almost.” She shuffled on a hoodie over her t-shirt, stepping aside. “Come in.”

He entered wordlessly and sat on the first chair he saw, which just so happened to have his jacket laying across the back. “So, I’m assuming this is yours now?”

She looked at the item he was holding. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “I meant to give that back. I’m sorry.”

He chuckled at her demeanor, “It’s fine. It’s bad out today, so I don’t mind if you need it.”

“I should be fine, thank you,” she forced her feet into a pair of sneakers, fighting to get her index finger from between the shoe’s fabric and the heel of her foot. “plus, I don’t want to hog your stuff.”

“You’re not hogging anything. If you need it, wear it.”

“But it’s yours.” She threw on her backpack, grabbing her keys, phone and wallet from the bowl by the front door. “Take it.”

“No.” he laid it back in its original position on the chair. “Give it back once the storm passes, okay? I’m just looking out for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but it made her smile anyway, “Fine. Thank you.” She opened the front door and practically shoving him out of her apartment and down the hall.

“You’re welcome.”

She’s not sure what’s happening. She’s started to like Henry’s company. Her goal when everything started was to remain polite and formal, and now…she thinks of him as a friend—which was not her plan.

They rode in a comfortable silence to Chris’ house. He could tell she was stressed. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.” Her shoulders shrugged, the fabric of her hoodie rubbing against her seatbelt. “I still think going to Chris’ house to grade papers is weird.”

“Nah,” he retorted, “it’s really casual. He makes a pot of coffee, and he even made me breakfast once. It doesn’t usually take long either—in and out.”

“So, I have nothing to be worried about?” she asked, their eyes meeting when he stopped at a red light. “This isn’t a setup for the two of you murder me, right?”

“If I wanted to murder you, I’ve had ample opportunities before today to do so.”

As if that’s reassuring.

“Thanks for sparing my life, I guess.” She muttered.

“Seriously, though. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. And if you get uncomfortable, I’ll say my apartment flooded and we’ll leave. Okay?”

She snorted, “Flooded?”

“Flooded. On fire. Intruder. My cat died. I’ll make something up.” He turned into a neighborhood of houses, pulling into a driveway behind a blue SUV, and shifting the car’s gear into “park”. “Say the word and we’ll leave, no questions asked.”

She nodded. She felt the slightest bit better about the situation. She didn’t really know if it was because he was so willing to drive her home, or if it was because he was so willing to drive her home just to keep her comfortable. Nonetheless, she appreciated it. “Okay.”

He reached behind him and pulled his shoulder bag from behind her seat. “And then, when we’re done, we can go to The Bistro and load up on cookies.”

“Their cookies are good…”

“Easily the best cookies I’ve had in a while. So, don’t do this because we’re required to, do this for the incentive of sugar.” He looked at her. “Lots and lots of sugar.”

They got out of his car with their bags and trudged up the driveway’s pavement, him following behind her to the front door. He emerged next to her and rang the doorbell.

Chris opened the door with a smile, “Hey.”

Not to mention, he wasn’t dressed like a professor at all. He was wearing grey sweatpants along with a cobalt blue zip-up jacket that was opened, showing off the white tank top he had on underneath.

And let’s not forget about the cross necklace—a minor addition, but still very important to the outfit.

“Good morning!” Henry cheered.

“Morning.” She greeted timidly.

Henry allowed her to step into the threshold of Chris’ home first. He entered, too, commenting, “Ooh. It smells good in here.”

“You caught me while I was making myself some pancakes—are you guys hungry?”

“I could eat.” Replied Henry as he plopped himself onto the couch in the front room, setting his bag on the coffee table before he sat down.

Chris looked to her, “Pancakes?” he asked simply with a point.

“Sure.” She shuffled off her backpack and sat next to Henry on the opposite end of the couch. “Let’s get this over with.” She muttered to herself. She unpacked her bag and set her laptop on the coffee table.

Not a few moments later, the two of them heard Chris shout from the kitchen, “Pancakes!”

Henry hopped up from his seat. He held out his hand in front of her, “C’mon.”

She took it and allowed him to pull her up…his hands were soft. Calloused at the knuckles, but soft, nonetheless. She almost hesitated to let go. But she did, regrettably. She followed him into the kitchen and took a plate from the stack on the counter next to the stove. Henry wasted no time in stacking his plate high with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, drowning everything in sticky maple syrup.

She, however, was a bundle of nerves, so she didn’t grab much—only two pancakes and two strips of bacon for herself. Henry balanced his plate, a handful of silverware, and a cup of coffee in his muscular arms and walked carefully back to the living room.

“You sure that’s all you want?” Chris asked, pointing to her plate as he poured the hot coffee from the carafe and into a large mug. “There’s plenty to go around.”

She shook her head politely, “I think I’m good for now.” She took a mug from the counter and held it out to him. “Could you pour me some, please?”

“Of course.” He poured the coffee into her mug a bit more than halfway. He offered her milk from the refrigerator, and she took it, pouring into her mug leisurely. He watched her and said almost in a mumble, “So…how are you liking things?”

“What things?” she replied.

“The position. The class itself—hell, your classes. How are you getting on?”

“Good, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I like the job a lot, and working with you guys. My classes are hard this semester—I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, Calculus seems so much more difficult than I remember.”

“Who do you have for that class?” he took a long sip from his mug, leaning his back comfortably against the countertop. “Mackie?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “He assigns so much work, I can barely keep up. And his class is in Jackson Hall—on the other side of campus—so I basically have to run to his class in order to get there on time if Henry doesn’t drive me.”

“Henry drives you to class?”

Out of all she said, that’s what he clung to?

“Yeah, most days. Apparently, we’re neighbors in the same complex, and he has a class in Jackson at the same time as mine. I don’t have a car and he does, so it just made sense.”

Chris hummed. “Well, I’m good friends with Mackie; he and I were actually roommates in undergrad. So if you need me to, I can put in a word.”

“A word?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Your studies are important, but so is your job. So if you need to be excused from his class every now and again, or you need help catching up, I can help you.”

“Oh.” She pondered for a moment. She needed this job, yes, but not so much that she feels the need to fall behind on her schoolwork to keep Chris company. “Well, I think I’m fine for now, but thank you for the offer.”

“Sure. Anything to help.” He patted a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her flesh, then left the kitchen.

She sat back on the couch next to Henry and timidly ate her breakfast while he and Chris engaged in conversation about the upcoming events in the area.

We do shoulder rubs now? She asked in her brain. He seemed almost…flirty? And when I mentioned Henry driving me to class, he visibly almost tensed. What was that about?

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea for the two of you to go.”

That’s when she started to pay attention. “Go to what?”

“There are student tutoring sessions in Hampton Hall for all undergraduate classes. Generally, I don’t make my students attend because there aren’t any undergraduate TAs in my class. But now, you’re here, so my class is on the roster.” Then, he muttered, “And Henry can take you.”

She nodded, taking her planner out of her bag. “When are they?”

“Thursdays at three. I’ve been told that they usually run about an hour, so it won’t take up all your afternoon. Then, you and Henry can do…whatever.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing to her, then back to Chris.

That was strange.

She didn’t question it. She was eager to finish grading her set of papers so that she could shove Henry out the door, get their cookies—that he suggested, and thus, will pay for—and head home to sleep the rest of her day away.

It took them a total of two hours to finish grading that week’s lab reports and put them into Chris’ online gradebook, and put the students’ information into a spreadsheet. After they cleared their trash and put their plates and silverware into the kitchen sink, she all but threw her belongings into her backpack. Henry put his bag over his shoulder, bushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “Well,” Henry began, taking his car keys from his front pocket and twirling the keychain around his index finger. “we should get going.”

“Sure. I don’t want to keep the two of you busy.” Chris replied as he ushered his two assistants to the front door, his tone not displaying any care for taking up the early part of their afternoon. “Have a great weekend, guys. See you Monday.”

They left and walked quietly side-by-side to Henry’s car. He backed out of the driveway and sped out of the neighborhood and down the street. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked her.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” he repeated, “What makes you unsure?”

She almost hesitated to mention it. But there was no logical way Henry didn’t pick up on Chris’ comments throughout their time there. “Chris was just acting weird, is all.”

“Define weird.”

“He kept saying things about you and me carpooling, and he even offered to excuse me from my Calc class with Mackie.” She suddenly found her fingers much more interesting to look at than the road in front of them. “And he touched my shoulder. He squeezed my shoulder, actually.”

“You think he was acting out of the ordinary…because he touched your shoulder?”

“No! Well, yes, but he seemed upset when I told him that you and I carpool, and that’s what caught me off guard.”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t think it’s professional.”

“If he didn’t think it was professional, he would’ve said so, instead of making snide comments.”

He parked the car in front of The Bistro, then turned it off and turned to her. “Maybe he doesn’t like us hanging out.”

Hanging out? Is that what he called it?

The two of them got out of the car and walked into the cold coffee shop, standing in line behind the last patron. “I don’t know,” she said lowly so as to not disturb the other customers with their conversation. “I just think that it doesn’t make sense for him to be so…intrusive.”

He looked at her. “Do you want me to say something?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “If it’s not what I think it is, he may get offended.”

“I don’t think he will.” It was soon their turn to order. “Six chocolate chip cookies, please.” He pulled out his wallet and paid for their snacks in cash, then moved to the other side of the counter to pick them up. He handed them to her, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

The two sat at a table—a similar table to the one they first sat at together, but this one was by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He opened the parchment bag the cookies were in and handed her one. “I will say,” he started with his mouth full, “he seemed off today.”

“See? I knew it—”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s being gross, alright? Everyone has an off-day every now and then.”

The two sat in silence after that. He watched students and professors alike walk past The Bistro, some of them entering the café to enjoy pastries and coffee like they were. He began to bounce his leg on the ball of his foot; something, she noticed, that he couldn’t help but do when he was deep in thought. Either that, or sitting cross-legged and wiggling his foot back and forth.

He cannot sit still. Neither can she usually—but it’s apparent that since she’s met him, he made her feel more comfortable…safe, even. She doesn’t pick at her fingers nearly as much.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” he asked her after a few moments of them silently people-watching. “Are you uncomfortable around him?”

“Not really.” She replied, not knowing exactly how she felt about Chris. She was intrigued by him, yes; she found him attractive, certainly; but she still didn’t know him. And because of that, she seemed to be more on edge when speaking to him. Henry wasn’t anything like that.

“A part of me just has a feeling that he’s coming onto me.”

He coughed, almost choking on his lemonade. “Like, romantically?”

“Yeah. That’s what it seems like.”

He hummed in response. He got up and threw away his trash and hers, offering a hand to help her stand. They soon left The Bistro. He opened the car door for her, then pulled out of the parking lot.

The atmosphere shifted. She knew that there was some form of attraction towards him from her, but was it reciprocated? She didn’t know, but judging by the way his eyebrows were persistent in their angry furrowing, there was something wrong with what she said at the restaurant.

They eventually got back to their complex. He didn’t say a word to her on their trek from the lot to their hallway. “G’night.” He said simply, unlocking his front door and shutting it behind him.

***

Tags (DM to be removed): @lady-x-red  @justtwhst  @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate​  @cyberdoshee  @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

[sixtyeightdays]

Only you, Marinette. Only you.

in which marinette lifts thors hammer with no knowledge of how great it is to wield mjolnir 😔✋🏻

kind of crappy but thats okay

-

Normally, when Tony Stark's name was brought up, the following words would be either 'Avengers', 'Iron Man', or something along the lines of cool and amazing.

But this time, as Tony Stark's name fluttered through the compound of College Francois Dupont, the following words were 'Why her', 'What happened', and'Marinette Dupain-Cheng'.

See, throughout Lila's entire reign at Francois Dupont, unknowingly to the Italian, a certain bluenette had been giving her and all of her classmates choices.

Lila chose to ignore Marinette's warning.

Alya chose to believe Lila and cut off all ties with Marinette.

Nino chose to follow Alya and ignore Marinette.

Adrien chose to remain quiet for fear of Lila getting akumatised.

The class chose to believe Lila, drinking up her lies and claimed connections to celebrities that'll 'boost their careers in the future'.

Now, Marinette wasn't normally one to show off her connections to the world, unlike Lila, who lied about celebrities with every breath she took.

No, Marinette preferred not to mention her celebrity contacts.

However, this time, she had thrown all caution out the window and texted him.

-

mari <3

cant wait to see all of you soon!

do you think you can pick me up at my school drop off point after i end school instead of the bakery next week?

the one and only

sure thing, mari

everyone misses you too and they cant wait to see you again

any reasons why the sudden change though

mari <3

no reason

-

It was a week before he arrived. A week full of taunts and bullying from the people who used to be her friends.

But the day had come, and Marinette was about to leave this place for the summer, and was finally going to be where she wanted to be again.

It was the last period, and Marinette, having finished her work already, started on a new design. She had just finished it when the door crashed open, making Mlle. Bustier and the class jump.

The shock turned into exciting adoration, however, as standing there in all his glory were the Avengers.

Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Thor, and of course, Tony Stark. Pepper was also there, trailing behind with Natasha who were muttering about how dramatic the boys were.

Alya immediately jumped to her feet, fumbling for her phone that she held with shaking hands, and started a livestream.

'Hi everyone! It's your Ladyblogger here, and today the Avengers came to visit! Oh, I bet Lila got them to come, she is Tony Stark's goddaughter after all.'

No one noticed Marinette snort into her palm.

Max gaped at his idol in the doorway, his glasses sliding off his face in his shock before he hastily placed them in it's proper position.

Thor ignored the reporter, making his way to the back of the class where Mari sat, placing his hammer on top of Mari's sketchbook, much to her chagrin.

The devious smile the god gave her confirmed that he did it on purpose, and Mari smacked him in the arm and glared at him.

'Was it really necessary to break down the door?' She deadpanned, unimpressed.

Alya gasped. 'Marinette! Don't be so rude to the Avengers! They're here for Lila, not you.'

Thor frowned in confusion. 'Who is this.. Lila you speak of?'

Alya gasped again. 'She's Tony Stark's goddaughter!' She frowned at the god disapprovingly.

'She spends her summers there, how could you not recognise her?' The Italian in question was sinking into her seat, regretting the lie she told.

Tony clicked his tongue.

'I have a goddaughter, yes, but it isn't this Lila girl. I have never heard of a Lila. No, I'm here for Marinette, my actual goddaughter.' He shot a pointed look to Alya at the last bit, before he and everyone else walked over to Mari.

Pepper passed by Alya and handed out two stacks of papers.

Alya cautiously picked it up and Pepper said, 'These are lawsuits for both you and Lila. It is for defamation and slander of different celebrities, as well as spreading false information.'

Alya gaped at the blonde as she made her way up the stairs to where Mari and everyone else was before turning to Lila with a glare.

'Were you lying the whole time?'

The class erupted in shouts at the girl, until she broke and called out that Adrien had known, but didn't say anything.

'It was for the best! Her lies weren't hurting anyone!'

'I didn't submit my music portfolio because Lila said she'd guaranteed me a spot.' Nino uttered quietly, realising that he had lost a chance to have his big break.

Mylene looked gobsmacked. 'I passed up the offer of meeting Alexander Hamilton because Lila said she'd get him to meet me for free.'

One by one, the students began listing everything they missed out because of Lila's lies, from Alix not being able to be in the X-Games like she was promised, to Kim, who had quit his swim team because Lila told him she'd get Michael Phelps to train him personally.

Adrien cracked and admitted that yes, he was wrong, but Marinette knew too!

The class suddenly remembered Marinette.

Marinette, who had been telling them all along that Lila was lying.

Marinette, who they had bullied because they thought she was jealous.

Marinette, who was scolding Tony Stark right now, wait what?

Sure enough, the bluenette was reprimanding the billionaire, who's head was hanging low like a kicked puppy, with Natasha smirking in the corner.

'I told you to come after school! There's still 15 minutes before school ends, Uncle Tony, you couldn't wait another 20 minutes?'

He hung his head and Steve snickered, until Marinette turned to him.

'Why did you let him come so early? I thought you were the responsible one.' She pinched the bridge of her nose.

The class took advantage of the momentary silence to swarm Marinette, until the Avengers glared at them and they backed away slightly.

'Girl, we're so sorry for believing that liar! Will you forgive us? We'll be best friends again.' Alya looked excited, a gleam in her eye.

'Do you think you can get me an interview with Tony Stark?'

Marinette looked at her in disbelief.

'So you want to be my friend again, just because I'm Tony's goddaughter.' Pepper and Natasha looked furious as well, while Tony eyed his goddaughter's class.

Steve placed a hand on Marinette's shoulder.

'Besides, Marinette already has a best friend.'

Alya spluttered. 'Who?'

A swarm of black and blue flew into the room and crashed into Marinette, causing her to fall back into her seat.

'Peter!' She laughed. 'MJ! Ned! Great to see you guys too!'

Peter smiled gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek, while MJ gave her a hug and Ned fistbumped her.

'Oh! That reminds me, MJ, I'm done with the design for the dress you wanted! Let me show you!' Mari looked around for her sketchbook before noticing it under Thor's hammer.

Thor, noticing this, moved his hand forwards to pick up the hammer, but his jaw dropped as Marinette easily picked up the hammer with one hand, holding it up while she moved the sketchbook underneath it away before placing it back on the table.

She flipped through the pages of it, not noticing the shocked looks on her classmates and family's faces, and the pale face of Lila. She had become enemies with a girl who could lift Thor's hammer!

Alya, who was still live streaming, looked like a fish, and her hands, which were still raises in the position of recording, trembled.

Marinette let out a small 'aha!' when she found the page she was looking for, and looked up to see her friend's shocked face.

She frowned. 'Do you not like it?'

Adrien, still rather astonished, spluttered out. 'Marinette.. you just lifted Thor's hanmer!'

At the sound of his name, the god snapped out of his stupor, and lifting his hammer, he pointed at the bluenette. 'She is worthy! I must take her to Asgard with me!'

Marinette cocked her head. 'It's just a hammer and it wasn't even that heavy. Now you big babies, let's go back to New York!'

She grabbed MJ's hand before picking up her bag and running out, she and MJ excitedly chattering about the dress, Marinette having not understood the implications of lifting Thor's hammer, and MJ, who had seen weirder things in her life.

The Avengers, Ned and Peter blinked before filing out of the room slowly, following the excited bluenette and brunette.A certain blonde god staring at nothing in particular.

'She doesn't know what lifting my hammer means?' He snorted. 'Only you, Marinette. Only you.'

-

well yeah there isnt exactly a ship for this but i wanted to write something where mari lifts thors hammer bc i dont see enough of those

mj and peter are together, in case u didnt know

kind of lost interest in the end but thats okay lmao so the endings kinda crappy but i think weve established that i cant write for shit

thank u for coming to my tedtalk ok byee

[lovelycheollie]

Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.”  –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests 

 “This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing.  Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

  Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

 As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

 “Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I’ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

[0nerd-at-heart0]

Can’t Stop Loving You

Aaron Hotchner x Reader (female)

Word count: 2k

Warning: angst with a happy ending, bold means flashback

 It's just like everything you dreamed it would be. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, the feeling of being able to do anything and everything at the same time. It’s all you work for and it feels great.

The BAU, sure you were just an intern, but being an intern is one step closer to being a true profiler.. 

It's your first day. The lady at the counter hands you some papers to file and with that you head to the bullpen. You walk in, a  stack of paper in your hand, fresh smile,  ready to take on today and then you see him. The papers all fall, time has stopped, your heart is pounding, your head is racing, you didn’t expect to see him.  You heard through the grapevine that he transferred , what is he doing here, what are you doing. You remind yourself to get a grip,  you need to compose yourself.

You quickly pick up the papers and give him a quick smile as you runoff to your office. He doesn’t get to see you fall apart now, not after  all you’ve been through, not after what he did to you. You don’t even give him a second glance fearing that if you look at him your fall apart you’ll have the urge to run back into the arms. As you are in your office filing our papers, the memory starts to hit you like a ton of bricks.

It was in October afternoon, you guys had just gotten back to his apartment after a lovely day including a picnic at the park alongside getting ice cream, even though he claimed he didn't want any but truly devoured it in seconds. 

At this moment in time you guys have been dating for five months. You have yet to meet his son but that’s because his son has been away to a soccer camp. And with the crazy schedule you guys had of you being still a grad student trying to finish up everything to start your career and him working cases all over the place it wasn’t with it in the stars for you to meet Jack.... yet. 

You guys were cuddling on the couch, he wanted to stay silent and enjoy this moment as you ran your hands through his hair but you really wanted to watch a new movie that came out. As you guys debat, your  heart starts to flutter. Everything is perfect, you tell yourself. How can this get any better. So in the spur of the moment you said those three words. I . Love. You.

He quickly stands up and his brows furrow. He tells you to take it back. He starts pacing saying that you can’t love him, that you need to leave right now.  He starts to ramble saying how all this was a mistake. How the only reason you guys were together was because he needed a distraction.

The tears started to fall. You wouldn't believe what you were hearing. You quickly said how dare you and left running. Five months with a man who could never love you, a man who just wanted a distraction from his life. Five months just done the drain. 

You hadn’t noticed you started to cry until teardrops started to hit the papers you’re holding. You got yourself together the best you could and went out back to the bullpen because you need to give Dr. Reid some papers to sign.  

Talking to Reid was an adventure in itself, and as the rest of the team started to surround you to get to know you, you could feel a pair of eyes staring at you. You quickly looked up and saw him looking at you through his window. You shook off the feeling of yearning for him and continued to talk to the group. 

That was until he came down stairs and approached the group.

‘ Everyone back to work, now!” he said in an angry tone.

Everyone scattered off in their own direction and his eyes beckoned on you. 

“ Y/N Y/L/N right? You're the new intern hired by Strauss” he asked like he had no clue who you were.

Two can play at this game.

“Yes, sir. I am new here, who are you?,” you stated, trying to stand your ground.

He let out a small chuckle.

‘ I am Agent Hotchner and here’s a word of advice, don’t distract my team. Thank you.” he glared and quickly left back to his office.

What was once sadness boiled into anger. How Dare He.

The work day went by pretty quickly after that. Dr. Reid and you got along pretty quickly. He understood the feeling of being new and the wrath of Hotch. If only he knew half of it. 

As you get ready to leave, Morgan tells you that everyone is going to this cool bar that just opened up and that would love for you to join them.

Prenitss tell you that it’s not everyday they invite a newbie let alone an intern join them. 

You take pride in that and agree to join them.

At the bar. all of you were laughing and drinking. The only one missing was he who shall not be named. 

You're not one to drink but if Rossii was buying suddenly you didn't mind. Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia and JJ were off dancing. Rossi was hitting a woman wayyy out of his league. And at the table you were trying to convince Reid to at least do one shot with you.

You were pretty much all up in Reid’s personal bubble but he didn;t seem to mind. Maybe it was because he had already had a couple sips of your drink and was easing up.

As you and Reid were bickering and laughing, he walked in.  Hotch quickly walked to Rossi, they had a quick chat and then came over to the table.

“ Look at you two, where’s everyone else,” he asked as he took at seat

‘Dance floor”, I say bitterly.

“ I thought you weren't coming,'' Reid questioned.

“ I just had to drop off Jack at a sleepover, sorry to burst your bubble.” he said.

The night went on and Reid and Hotch talked about god knows what. You were more focused on the fact that Hotch was looking at me every now and then. Like what's his deal. You had enough drinks  to decide to go dance.  

As you dance you could feel his eyes on you. You decided to give him a show, show him what he lost. Finally get your mojo back. It’s been 4 months since you broke up and you are ready to let it all go. After months of crying and pinning and eating ice cream. He has no power over you anymore.

After too much dancing, and the fact that the bar is closing everyone huddles up to go there separate ways. You are holding on to Spencer (finally in the mindset to call him Spencer). You all walk to the parking lot seeing who's going to give who a ride. When Hotch speaks up and says that you guys live close to each other and he can give you a ride. No one seems to question it since they are all too tired to even function. 

But you know that’s a lie. You live across town from him. What's the endgame?

Everyone says their goodbyes and you just submit to Hotch giving you a ride.. You want to see what;s going to happen. Screw the alcohol for making your brain go all wonky. What happened to your independence. It all flew out the window. 

You and Hotch were in his car. Sitting in the parking lot. 

No one dared say a word. He hadn't even started the engine. 

‘’So, Agent Hotchner, are you going to take me home anytime soon?”, you sort of slurred.

“ Agent Hotchner,” he laughed, ‘ so formal, I guess I deserve that”

“ You deserve a lot worse’, you mumble.

‘’Y/N, please let me explain” he pleads with you, finally looking at you.

You look away, cross you arms and pout as you say, “ oh so now you know who I am”

“ I am not having this conversation in the car”, he says as he turns on the engine and begins to drive.

You stare out the window, the drive is silent. You don’t even realize he led you back to his house.

“ What are we doing here”, you ask as he opens the door for you.

“ I want to talk, and after I will call and pay for an uber back to your place if it makes you happy.” he says with puppy dog eyes that are hard to resist

You nod and he leads you into the house. You guys sit across from each other on the couch. He places water in front of you and you mumble a thanks.

“ Y/N, I can't ask you to forgive me because what I did was horrible. But I was scared. Everyone I love gets hurt when they are with me. And when you said you loved me, something in me told me that I had to call it off. You were getting too close to me and I couldn't let you in. I couldn't let you see the dark side of me. All the bad, I was scared that the moment I said that I too loved you, you would rather get hurt or regret being with me. And as strong as I seem, you have my whole heart and with that you have the power to break m..”, he pleads.

“ So because you were scared, I had to get hurt. No matter what, I still came out hurt above it all. The pain you caused me was astronomical.” You yell

Then he does something you didn't expect.

He gets on his knees in front of you.

‘ I don't expect you to forgive me. When I saw you walk into the bullpen my heart dropped. I felt like a teenager in love. You took my breath away all over again. Y/N, I can't let you go again. Seeing how you were with the team. The world I tried to protect you from. I am sorry. I am deeply, deeply sorry. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make things right, even if it means you won't take me back, I will do it because I still want you in my life. Even if we are just friends.” he cries.

“ You have been this new found light in my life, this last 4 months without you have been horrible. I am an idiot., please Y/N.”

His tears are running down his cheek and you realize this man has gone through so much loss in his life.  Nothing will truly justify what he did. But you can't lie and say the 5 months you were together were not the best months of your life. 

You gently lift his chin up to meet your eyes. “ I can't forgive you just yet, but that doesnt mean I ever stopped loving you, I am willing to try again because I will be darned if I too let you go. Hotch- I mean Aaron I mean it when I say you are one of the best things to happen to me.

He starts to smile and stands up. As he stands he pulls you into and embraces and gives you the most passionate kiss. Pouring his heart and soul into it. As you break for air he whispers, “ You, Y/N are the love of my life and I can say that I am no longer afraid to say that out loud. Let the future come, I will take it as it goes. But you Y/N, you are it for me, if you will have me”

That all you ever wanted to hear. And again you kiss. A kiss so magical, it feels like the beginning of what's to be finally a happily ever after for you two.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Division of Labor (2/?)

Summary:  

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 3

Link to cross-postings: AO3

"This doesn't make any sense."

Jean had always been one of the more vocal ones in the classroom when it came to inconvenient developments. More often than not, people had just brushed off his complaints and banter as an inevitable part of his personality. That was one of the few times everyone else agreed with him.

The rest though just sat silently in the classroom while both Erwin and Shadis went out of the room, to get what was supposed to be their "kids."

Having taken classes on reproduction and health growing up, most if not all the people in the room already knew the amount of money it took to raise a child and the importance of contraception.

Oddly enough though, the number of kids was decided at random, only justified by the fact that they would never know how many dependents they'll have to care of one day.

"Every single one of you will be faced with the prospect of taking care of a dependent one day, maybe for a few years, maybe for decades," Erwin had explained. He had a natural charisma in the way he carried himself and spoke that made everyone in the room aware of their own tendency for altruism. Everyone had somebody in their life, they probably would have dug into their savings to support be it a mother, a sibling or a close friend.

They were all silently doing their own reflections of who that person would have been as Shadis passed around sacks of flour at random.

"Just be lucky you don't have to do this in real life yet. This adult experience is fucking watered down already. If we could simulate the pain of childhood or the stench of a dirty diaper, we would. " Shadis' words were a stark contrast to Erwin's.

Either way, everyone was too distracted by the number they were getting and the whole prospect of having sack babies in the first place to even react to his words.

"We initially thought of using actual eggs or flour but if you're going to be taking care of this for the whole year…” Erwin fell silent for a second. “That would be disgusting."

The sack was definitely much lighter than what Levi had expected. He squeezed it, noting the firmness of the sack. It was stuffed with cotton. They thought some of it through at least.

Erwin turned on his projector, looking undisturbed by the awkward silence in the room. "By the end of this month, these are what I expect from all of you," He started. "An overview of career plans, a meal plan, a house design based on real estate prices around the area and a breakdown of house responsibilities."

He moved his tacky pointer towards the line on meal plans. "Every two weeks you and your partner go to the supermarket, assess grocery prices and submit me a list of groceries you would buy and a meal plan based on that for the family you have with you. Remember, you are still limited by your wage and each sack represents an extra mouth to consider when you make the meal plan. I will be sending a more detailed version with the deadlines and a prescribed format through email.”

The class was silent for a time. The only notable sounds coming from that room were the scratching of pencil and paper and a few sighs. Hange was taking notes next to Levi while the latter wondered why she even bothered when Erwin was going to send the rest of the information through email after all.

Erwin spent a good few seconds taking stock of everyone in the room before letting out a subtle sigh of his own. "Don't look too overwhelmed, these assignments will be incorporated into all your other classes anyway. Just don't expect teachers from other subjects to spoon feed you though. As much as possible we want you to learn to work with it independently."

                                         Division of Labor

Regardless of what Erwin said, everyone was left overwhelmed anyway. The prospect of having to deal with that heavy of a workload and having that performance affect their chances at college had people spending their precious one hour of lunch time with their partners.

Despite his generally antisocial personality, Levi was rarely alone for lunch. Most days he spent his breaks with his classmates Petra and Oluo. Sometimes Gunther and Eld from the other section would join in. That was unless he felt particularly compelled to spend a lunch break alone. It was as if everyone silently agreed to use that short hour to discuss and strategize with their partners. Levi did not even have time to protest that trend, as his own friends filed out of their seats with their partners, not even bothering to ask if he would be joining them for lunch.

Or did they even need to ask? Hange was right next to him, already taking out her lunch and looking at him expectantly. “Let’s go?”  

“Wait, who said we were having lunch together?”

Hange gestured subtly at the already empty room, as if to ask him “what else?” Levi cursed himself for even complaining about groupmates who never pulled their weight. At that moment, an overly enthusiastic groupmate seemed more unbearable and Levi almost wished he could have gotten a lazy and uninterested groupmate instead. At least then he’d be able to decide for himself when to start working.  

They sat on one of the picnic tables in the school courtyard, Hange with a boxed lunch and Levi with his homemade sandwich. Their two sack babies were stacked up to the side of the table.

"So what do we name them?" Hange asked.

Levi grabbed one of the sacks from the pile and propped it up on his lunch bag, an attempt to use that empty slate of a sack as a guide to imagining what should be a face.  With that, Levi could pretend they were at least kind of living and maybe they did deserve names.

"Flour," Levi suggested. His attempts to see life in faceless sacks came out fruitless.

"Let's try to be a little more creative Levi."

"Why do we even have to give names to these things? They're not even alive. Like nobody is gonna press charges if I stabbed it right now anyway."

"Because they're grading us,” Hange took out a permanent marker and carefully drew a smiling face one sack. She made sure to add a few lines of what looked to be bangs. As she went for the other sack, Levi could not help but notice the goofy smile that appeared on her face.

Levi narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this?”

"We’re here. Might as well enjoy it right?" Hange shrugged." If you're not gonna name them. I will." She propped the one she had just finished drawing on, up on Levi’s lunch bag. “This is Flora.” She continued drawing on the other sack. “And this is Fauna."

The names sounded to Levi like science terms he had learned too long ago and had wanted to forget. They flew into one ear and out the other within seconds and Levi had settled for internally naming the sacks the first thing he thought of when he saw Hange's artwork: “ugly bangs” and “eyelash.”

He made sure not to tell Hange though. She seemed way too enthusiastic about her naming choices.

                                         Division of Labor      

Although Levi did have a natural talent with numbers, this potential remained untapped through most of high school. The most apparent reason for this being the fact that the person teaching them Math, at one of the most important times in their high school life was an utter prick.

That utter prick of a Math teacher during their sophomore year made a comeback as their teacher for their junior year. He did not look too happy about it either. Levi at least shared that same sentiment.  

"So I'm supposed to be teaching you guys about taxes but really, believe me, you won't really use half of this shit, just hire an accountant.” Zeke Yaeger propped his feet on the teacher’s table, not bothering to even explain the table of tax rates he had flashed as a powerpoint slide next to him. “ Or... just get an employer, they’ll calculate it for you anyway.”

“Do you mean get a job sir?” It was Marco who so politely asked the question.

“Get a job, get an employer, same banana.” Zeke answered, in between gulps of coffee.

Somehow everyone knew that getting a job would probably be not as easy as the phrase “get an employer” implied it to be. Zeke was their teacher though and he probably knew much more than they did, given the decades of work experience he had in his belt.

“Don’t we need to know how to calculate our taxes based on the table?” Armin asked. He looked to his partner Annie who seemed to be furiously taking notes.

Zeke looked once again at the board for a few minutes before slamming his cup on the table, spilling out some coffee in the process. “Just remember, if your employer promises you 70,000 dollars a year, don’t be surprised when you end up taking home 50,000 dollars coz of some bullshit about the government needing money, insurance and retirement.” He rolled his eyes. “Not like we all live that long to enjoy that  K410 nonsense anyway.” He added bitterly, adding some venom on that part about that string of numbers in particular.

“If we own a business, how do we file them?” Annie asked.

“No one needs to know how to do this. Besides, you’re all in high school. Don’t stress yourself over this. Like I said before, just get an accountant.”

“What if we can’t afford an accountant?”

“Then don’t own a fucking business.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “Fine… Look, I didn’t prepare for that question, gimme a sec.”

The class watched as he closed the powerpoint, quickly opened an incognito window and went on google.

How to file taxes as business owners?

Zeke stared at the next few pages for what seemed like minutes, before clicking on one particular page.

“So yeah, it looks like you just fill out this form and send the money to the tax office.” He shrugged. “Your generation grew up with ipads glued to your faces. I’m sure you’re way better in googling shit than I am so yeah, just google the rest of what you need. Free period until your next class, now go talk about your fake taxes or your fake house or something.”

                                          Division of Labor

Even with the free period Zeke had so generously given them, no one was able to start anything until they got home. It was eight in the evening when Levi opened his school email to find the information on their next tasks, which was sent only a few minutes ago.

September*

Week 3

Housing plan (Wednesday)

Housing Design (Wednesday)

Daily routine

Meal Plan

Week 4

Breakdown of Responsibilities

*Unless otherwise stated, please submit output by Friday of said week  

Levi did not even have time to finish scanning through the guide to their housing plan task as his computer started to slow down, unable to take the quick scrolling. He soon realized it was not the scrolling that had made the computer so dysfunctional. On the lower right of his screen, he saw the notification.

Hange Zoe

New Message

The badge next to his messaging app, quickly rose from 12 unread messages to 26 to 45. Even the screen looked unable to display the messages properly. Wanting to save his computer from anymore torture, Levi grabbed his phone from his bed side and called his partner.

“If you have a lot of things you need to tell me, call .” Levi said, not even bothering to wait for a hello from Hange.

“Oh great! So you did get the messages! For a while I was wondering if your messenger app was broken.”

Levi looked back at the screen to see that the badge next to his app was already displaying a “99+.” If his application or his laptop was not broken then, it might break when he opens the application.

“What the hell are you sending anyway?” Levi asked, delaying the inevitable of having to open the messaging app.

“Links to houses for the housing plan,” Hange answered matter-of-factly. “Unless you’d rather I just say the links out loud for you to type it in the browser yourself.”

With a part of him so nervous at the possibly of his computer hanging or even breaking, Levi had ended having to slam his finger on his mouse when he opened the messaging app. He looked away not wanting to see how his computer tried to process the 99+ messages.

He lay on his bed opening the file on his phone.

“So, since I’m working freelance, I pretty much have a work from home job so we can live anywhere. We have two kids, so what do you think of a three bedroom house?”

“A ‘house house?” Levi looked around at his own living space which his uncle rented for him. He lived in a studio apartment and the concept of living in a house, even in a simulation seemed too unrealistic. “Like a house, with two floors, and multiple bedrooms?”

“And a garden!” Hange said excitedly. “So Flora and Fauna can run around.”

It took Levi a few seconds to comprehend that Hange was discussing their flour sack babies running around an imaginary garden. Levi was sure Hange was not an idiot though and had decided to at least entertain the expensive option of a fully furnished three bedroom house with a sprawling garden.  “And, how were the prices?” Levi walked back to his computer to see that most of his messages had already loaded.

“Well, I found some for 1500 dollars a month, others for 1800 dollars a month. I earn 3600 dollars a month apparently, so I don’t think spending half of it on rent would be too much right?”

“I mean, it’s your wages right?” Levi replied. In truth, a part of him just did not want to go through all one hundred houses Hange had linked him too on the messaging application just to decide on a house.

Hange sent a picture of a split level house, with a wide front garden. “This is my favorite! It comes with a large backyard. And it only costs 1800 dollars a month!”

Only 1800 dollars a month. Levi almost choked. The words “only” and “1800 dollars a month” just seemed too absurd to his ears that someone saying it so casually had him speechless even if Hange was talking about a three bedroom house with a sprawling garden. He cleared his throat. “You’re the breadwinner.”

“Okay! Let’s design the house! I’ll move to my laptop.”

For some reason, Levi had a bad feeling about the listing Hange had shown him. He quickly brushed it away as it came, attributing it to the fact that he never really grew up with enough money to entertain the idea of spending on luxuries. He lived with less than three hundred dollars a month after all, all funded by his absent uncle.

Hange had seemed confident with her decision though.

I’ll stick to what I know best. In the end, Levi decided to leave the larger purchases to Hange. Hehad confidence only in his ability to manage a household. Maybe he would be able to contribute then.

[wifeofkimtaehyungofbts]

Chapter 11

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 2,379

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible. Please bear with my hectic schedule! You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

**

“Hey"

I jolted at the sudden voice echoing against the walls of the eerily quiet changing room of the McDonald’s.

Jungkook was leaning against the door. His apron was thrown over his shoulder and he cocked his head at me.

“Wanna go out tonight?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him right. Jeon Jungkook. The guy that hardly ever talks to anyone. The handsome guy who shies away from girls at the cashier trying to get his number. The guy who leaves work without sparing a second for an after-work chat with his colleagues. Wants to go out with me?

I continued to stare at him in shock. Instead of breaking the awkward silence between us, he stared back at me. His dark chocolate brown eyes looked deep. Not in the romantic sense. It almost seemed like there was an entirely different person behind them. If the person differed from the one who stood before me in a good way or a bad way, I couldn’t tell. But what I could tell was that if I didn’t reply fast, we'd be staring into each other for all of eternity.

“Don’t you have work?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are supposed to fill me in tonight because Felix had an emergency at his house and couldn’t make it”

“I got someone else to cover for me" he shrugged.

I wanted to know more but I figured it didn’t really matter as long as my shift was covered and he didn’t get into trouble either.

“Gimme a minute. I need to wash my face” I said turning my back on him.

As I busied myself removing my hair tie and gathering my hair in a bun, I felt someone lightly brush against my back.  I wanted to turn but it felt too cold.

“You look beautiful Y/N" Jungkook whispers, his warm breath blowing the hair at the top of my head.

In reflexive panic, I grabbed my bag pack and dashed to the girl’s bathroom. I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I tried to shake off the eerie coldness I felt a few seconds ago.

Why did Jungkook come onto me so suddenly? And what’s with the compliment? I mean sure, thank you but it felt so off. He didn’t sound sweet or shy when he said it. He sounded stern, like he was stating a matter of fact I better believe else.... else?

Else what, Y/N? He was going to kill you??

I slapped myself for overthinking and washed my face before hurrying to the front. My colleagues were busy with customers so I couldn’t wave them goodbye. I stepped outside to the chilly air, spotting Jungkook standing by the road. I walked up to him and smiled warmly.

He looked down at me and smiled back. “Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t!” I giggled, already drooling at the mere idea of pizza.

He laughed as we started walking towards the Arthur’s Pizzeria around the corner.

**

We were seated by the window across from each other. The table was too big for just us two, but we were glad no one else attempted to sit with us. It was fine, just the two of us.

We ordered our pizzas and spoke about ourselves as we waited for the food.

I found out Jungkook is from Busan and he was studying music at the campus. He was in fact a top graduate from Busan Arts School along with some guy whose name Jungkook doesn’t remember. He likes to play video games and tries new activities every weekend. Last week he had attempted fishing with a friend of his and they ended up catching no fish but a cold so bad, Jungkook requested for an extension on his vocal exam. Oh, and he hates reading.

I told him about the time I submitted the wrong thesis paper for my semester end assignment and had to retake the whole module all over again in the next semester. He asked my favourite colour, movie and book. He judged me for being a book worm and laughed when I pouted at him in annoyance.

Our food arrived soon and we didn’t talk as we devoured the delicious, thin, saucy pizza. I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye but I made no attempt to eat decently. It’s not like I want to impress him or anything anyways.

Three girls seated at the table next to us wooow’ed at the sight of Jungkook. They turned their attention to me and stared on with disgust.

“What’s someone like him doing with someone like her?”

“God knows! See this is why we never get to experience anything good. Because the good guys are always after someone so random”

“It must be true love if he actually chose someone like her. I mean, look at her hair!”

I could even hear their eye rolls as loud as I heard their words. It pricked and I found myself slowing my eating. I suddenly couldn’t chew anymore. I felt restrained. Like someone had put handcuffs and a leash on me and I had to strain against them to take a bite of my pizza.

Growing up, I haven’t had the most stable family. My fatherless life had involved trying to work odd jobs since I was 13 and missing out mile stones other girls got to experience during their teen years. My first kiss wasn’t under a starry night with my first love, it was rushed and filled with greed at the car park of the local book store. And he cheated on me a week later with the girl who sat next to me at chemistry. The man I first shared a bed with was not looking for a long-term relationship and left me when he found a full time, high wage job at his uncle’s company in New York. My mother was crippling, losing a bit of herself every passing day until one day she came down the stairs to have her tea and I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. My sisters were still too young to understand life and I didn’t want them to see the world as I saw it. I wanted them to have a happy childhood and experience life as any growing child should. They were sent away to my uncle’s and although they were more than willing to also let me stay, I needed away. I left my mother as she screamed indecent words at me one night and took the subway train that led me here. The letter of acceptance from the university was the only good thing that has ever happened to me. I soon became best friends with my room mate who is the polar opposite of me but somehow, we spoke to the same stars and saw life in the same light. My life has always been rushed, difficult to comprehend and there was no easy way through. Having to hear the body that pulled me through those sleepless nights of putting my scared sisters to sleep and locking their doors so my alcoholic mother couldn’t hurt them with her drunk violence, the same body that has cried itself to sleep after carrying stack after stack of recycle paper up 7 flight of stairs for very little pay and a terrible neck and back ache, the same body that is still living and breathing and pushing through, is not good enough, is less, is devastating. It makes me want to cry.

I didn’t ask for such a difficult life. Additionally, my face is the only remainder of who my mom used to be; I am the spitting image of her. The her that was over flowing with positivity and had a heart of gold. The her that lovingly brought my sisters and I into this world and took us cycling and cooked our favourite pasta for our birthdays. To think this face, this remainder of what she looked like, who she was, is less makes my heart crinkle around the edges and burn in the deepest pits of its centre.

“All good?”

I look up to see Jungkook looking at me worriedly.

“Oh yes! I just.... should stop eating else I’ll throw up" I laughed awkwardly.

Jungkook continued to munch on his pizza as he stared at me. He was trying to read the worry in my eyes, the sad drop of the corners of my lips. I couldn’t hide my emotions on my face even if the world depended on it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now Jungkook presses me for answers and stories. Stories I’d rather keep hidden like I have all this time.

“Okay" Jungkook hums as he takes another slice of pizza. I look at him, grateful he dropped the subject. I watched on as he ate. He didn’t once lift his eyes to mine. He busied himself finishing up his own pizza and the remainder of mine. I wasn’t shocked he ate so much given the fact that he was full of muscle and stamina.

I looked out the window at the busy street. People walked by, carrying the weight of their lives on their shoulders. The lights from cars and street lights looked like stars on Earth from where I was seated. I felt a sudden sense of closure knowing I could disappear into the night, walk mindlessly around these people and no one would know who I am. I’d have no one to explain or compare myself to. Nobody would know what’s going on inside my head. Frankly, nobody would care enough to know. And it felt nice. To not be alive and surviving. I wanted to be light, float over the Earth and find my purpose at my own pace without trying to catch up with the rest of the world only to fall short of breath and lost.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’ll listen if you share” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth with a tissue. He has cleaned the trays of pizza without leaving behind even a trace of any food being there. I smiled kindly at his words.

“Thank you Jungkook. But I’m not thinking about anything that needs concerning attention”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know he noticed it. He pays the bill entirely despite me fussing about wanting to split the bill. We make our way back to my house, the breeze a little colder and stronger than yesterday, reminding us of the oncoming winter.

**

I pace the living room painfully slow, waiting.

Waiting for her to come back home.

Daffodil.

I have been practising what I wanted to say as I give her the present over and over again in my head. I had wrapped it neatly in a brown paper bag and tied with an orange ribbon I found on her study table. The wrapping was not at all attractive, but it was neat and I hoped she would see the value of the gift that’s wrapped rather than the wrapping itself.

I look at the time. 09.19pm.

She was supposed to be back a long time ago. I heard her making arrangements yesterday to leave early from work today. I had cleaned the entire house; sweeping the wooden floor boards, removing cobwebs and brushing off the dust that had collected on top of the cupboards and TV.

I did not have a phone on me and even if I did, its not like I had her number anyway. I sighed loudly and slumped on the cold floor. My eyes kept fluttering, threatening to close for hours. My shoulders felt heavy and I couldn’t pull myself up off the floor. I rested my head on the floor and allowed my eyes to close. The coldness from the floor piercing my right cheek was the last thing I was aware of before I drifted off to a sleep full of nightmares.

**

I saw it again.

The playground.

The swing.

The boy.

I was playing in the park around the corner from school. I had sand in my old, torn shoes and my school tie was hanging loosely around my neck. My hair was a mess and sweat dripped off the ends of my bangs. I was having too much fun running around to stop. I sat at one of the swings and turned to face the boy seated in the other.

“Hey!” I waved brightly.

He did not respond, his head bent low and slowly swinging. He had dark brown hair and a piercing in his left ear. I could not see his face because it was surprisingly too dark on the side of the swing he was on. It was almost as if a dark cloud was looming over him, night fallen on the side of the Earth he was on.

I turned away and focused on swinging as high up as I can. However, my merry only lasted for a short while because I had swung a little too high and as I swung back, I was thrown off the seat and face first onto the dirty sand. I got up spitting sand out of my mouth. Any average person would have shrieked in disgust and run straight home for a good shower at what just happened. But I just laughed, almost choking on my spit as I attempted to spit sand out of my mouth.

“Pathetic”

The boy suddenly spoke. His voice was soft, melodic and had a boyish charm to it.

He’d make a great singer if he could sing, I thought to myself.

I turned to look at him, mirth sparkling in my eyes.

“Ha! So you can speak! I thought-” I began but had to stop at the sight before me.

My eyes grew wide in terror as the boy lifted his head to reveal a face with no features except for a gaping hole where his mouth should be. A dark liquid oozed out of his ears, supposed-mouth and where his eyes should’ve been.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream again and again, but no sounds came out.

**

Tag list: @tae-n-u​

[tbr-agency]

babied.

“You can’t keep on doing this, baby. It’s unhealthy - this could risk your health.”

synopsis ∣ Mark received a call from Lee - Ahrin’s personal assistant, that Ahrin fainted during work and he decided to take care of his girlfriend - not knowing there was an unknown guy with her.

timeline ∣ May 2020

characters ∣ Jung Ahrin, Yoon Hyunji (The Bloody Roses), Mark Tuan (Got7), Yoon Minsung (Code M)

a/n ∣ a little angst. Ahrin has a habit of starving herself.

“Is she okay? Is she all alone? You know what, I’ll be there in about 10 minutes. Look after her until I get there!”

“Mark—

Mark quickly hung up the call as he was grabbing a random hoodie then hurriedly snatched his car keys that were laying on the kitchen table. 

Milo who was staring at his owner, making Mark notice the poodle staring up at him from far.

“I'll be back in a short while okay?? I’ll be back with your Ahrin noona!” Mark informed the poodle then quickly closed the door of his own apartment, rushing his way to the elevator.

Mark received a call from Ahrin’s assistant, Lee, that he had found her lying on the floor unconscious and it seemed she had fainted. That caused Mark to stop his hand movements as he was petting Milo, having a relaxing night together with the poodle.

Though he sounded calm during the phone call with Lee to find out more about what had happened - assuming together why Ahrin had fainted, he was actually panicking and he was becoming concerned of Ahrin’s well-being.

He knew Ahrin had been busy these few days, seeing her schedules that she had updated Mark with and he could only sigh, seeing that she had to return to office even on the weekends to settle some documents that had to be submitted on the following Monday.

But he could see that Ahrin was trying to sort her time out for Mark too - calling him on lunch timings if he could come out to eat lunch with her and Mark would happily accompany her since it was a few blocks away from Mark’s apartment to MMG Agency headquarters.

It sometimes saddened Mark that he could visibly see that Ahrin had lose a lot of weight due to stress - which is normal for some people and he himself have felt that too but it also drained the colors of Ahrin’s face that Mark had to sometimes had a serious talk with Ahrin to watch out for health too.

Worrying about her health too, Mark can’t help but look up towards her. She had done things that made Mark, even his other members and also the other girls to look up to her.

Mark admires and cares for her - everyday, everynight he would always think about her.

With that, Mark knew about Ahrin’s obsession with finishing paper-work in just a day that she disregarded the fact that she had to go for lunch or dinner or even supper. 

This was the 1st strike and Mark promised himself that if something had happened to Ahrin during work - which he hoped it would never happen, that would consider the 3rd strike and Mark had to sit Ahrin down, wanting to have a serious chat with her about her habit of not eating.

Mark sighs as soon as he sits in the driver seat, starting the engine of his car.

“Ahrin-ah…. baby, what am I going to do with you?”

Mark quickly ran his way into MMG Agency headquarters, quickly passing through securities with the help of Lee since he had given instructions to the guards to let Mark in without looking through his details - knowing this was an emergency case.

The journey between the elevator to where the level of Ahrin’s office was just less than a minute to get there but to Mark, it seemed like it took forever. He looked calm but on the inside, he was opposite of that as he knew he was about to meet Ahrin.

As soon as the elevator made the sound that indicated the arrival to his destination, Mark quickly got out with full speed but his fast pace quickly slowed down as he heard voices that weren't too friendly and to recognize a voice which he heard before. 

“You shouldn’t be here. Mark is on the way here, Ahrin is in safe hands.”

Mark frowned as he could hear Hyunji talking rather formally. 

“Well he isn’t here, isn’t he? Let me get her to—

“It’s okay. I’m already here.” Mark decided to step in since he somehow knows where this conversation could lead to. As soon as he showed himself, his eyes landed on a man standing a few steps in front of Hyunji who was sitting on the sofa and next to her was Ahrin laying on the sofa, looking unconscious. 

“Just in time,” Hyunji immediately stood up, smiling towards Mark before turning towards the man.

“See. I told you, Minsung. He’s Ahrin’s boyfriend so..” Hyunji commented and the man whose name is Minsung had eyes widened slightly.

“So you two are… in a relationship?” Minsung pointed towards Mark and Ahrin with a shocking expression - Mark wordlessly went towards Ahrin, turning towards Minsung.

“Ahrin and I have been together for 11 months now and it’s been a month since we are official.” Mark confessed with a small smile and he could see Minsung’s face fell slightly.

“Alright, I’ll get going now,” Minsung simply said before rushing out - without hearing both Hyunji and Mark’s responses.

“What the hell..” Mark muttered, causing Hyunji to scoff. She turned towards Ahrin, smiling a little while reaching to caress her forehead. Ahrin looks so peaceful, knowing she was sleeping and probably passed out.

Mark saw the maknae’s expression.

“Has this happened before?” Mark questioned softly, seeing Hyunji slowly turning towards him with a nod.

“This is the second time. It’s bad that we get used to it at the same time, we are really worried for our leader. The only ones who could lecture her about it are Haejin and Eunhee. Those 2 are scary when they are angry or in a ‘mother’ mode.” Hyunji confessed with an amused smile, causing Mark to smile too.

Ahrin deserves the lecture.

“I’ll carry her to my car. Can you help me?” Mark pleads slightly and Hyunji nodded, carrying the leader’s belongings as she escorted them all the way to the basement carpark.

“Can you tell your execu—

“That has already been settled, oppa. You don’t have to worry. Ahrin would be given 3 days of medical leave. Please take care of her when you are available.” Hyunji looked towards Ahrin who was in the passenger seat with seatbelts on her.

“Of course. Thank you, maknae-ah.”

It was weird for Ahrin. 

Her body felt so comfortable for the first time in about a week. She almost forgot how a bed feels like as for the past few weeks, she has been sleeping on the sofa and on her office chair.

Ahrin knew her habit of staying in her office was bad for her but she had a pile of papers on her desk that she had to settle. 

The more she procrastinates or having a break, the more papers would stack on her paper.

She didn’t want to ask for help from the other girls since they had their own tasks to settle, although they were kind enough to inform the leader if she is in need of help, they would always stop whatever they are doing just to help her.

Ahrin knew she was a little hard-headed and she always pushed herself to do more.

She soon realized that her body was in a bed when her eyes slowly opened, as her vision started to focus - to see a familiar looking room and her scent of smell was working perfectly and she knew she was in Mark’s apartment.

She slowly sat up, not realizing Mark was leaning against the door until she slowly turned towards the door.

Ahrin stared at him, seeing his unreadable expression as he had folded arms. She can’t read his expression but deep down Ahrin knew he wasn’t too happy, seeing him sighing before walking towards her way.

She silently watches him sitting at her side, with his hands reaching out for hers.

“Do you know how worried I was, Ahrin-ah? You did it, again - from what Hyunji told me.” Mark’s voice turned soft yet he sounded disappointed causing Ahrin to look away from him.

“I passed out again, didn’t I?” Ahrin questioned, before turning towards Mark to see him nodding slightly.

“You can’t keep on doing this, baby. It’s unhealthy - this could risk your health.” Mark warned while caressing her hair gently with loving eyes. 

“I know... But my paperwork—

“I know. Your paper-works keeps stacking up. Work is work, I know very well. But it doesn’t hurt to ask the other girls for help, right? You said to me the other day, they even tell you to not hesitate to ask them for assistance - so why didn’t you just.. ask them for help? Why the stubbornness, baby?” Ahrin was taken aback to hear those words from Mark, for the first time because all this while he has been so laid back.

This time, Mark sounded so bothered and pure worriness in his voice that it made Ahrin instantly feel so bad. It was obvious Mark was a little pissed at her. He doesn’t understand what’s Ahrin’s obsession with finishing paperwork.

Ahrin couldn’t even argue with him because he was completely right. 

“I’m sorry.” Ahrin’s word was simple but there were lots emotion in those 2 words. Mark’s expression instantly softened, already seeing Ahrin’s face that looked so down.

He took her hands, caressing her the top of her hand with his thumb lovingly - then planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I know you’re tired so we will talk about this again when you are fully recovered. I’m not letting this go, baby. We need to really sit down and talk about this. I love you and care about you so much that it hurts when you're completely exhausted.” Mark frowned slightly before pinching onto her cheeks, then letting out a smile.

Ahrin could only pout while nodding her head defenseless, knowing she can’t argue with him. She looked towards him while he was standing up - making Ahrin to follow his movement.

“Hey! Where are you going?! Stay there!”

“But—

“Lay down, Ahrin. I’m going to grab some soup and rice.”

Ahrin sighed, letting Mark put her into bed - patting her head since she obeyed him. Mark was about to leave but he decided to stop himself as he turned towards her. 

“You always take care of me and the other members - my members, and your members. It’s my turn as your boyfriend and your closest friend out of Got7 to take care of you, Ahrin-ah.”

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

[morningfears]

Television Romance [Chapter One]

Rating: PG-13 (some swears, nothing major)

Summary: Natalia Adler is a stressed out grad student who attempts to escape the noise of her office by visiting her favorite coffee shop. However, instead of a few hours of writing, she gets a lap full of coffee and a date with the most gorgeous guy she’s ever met.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Two

The graduate student office was usually busy, bustling with activity and overflowing with graduate students working on various research projects or grading coursework as well as undergraduate students seeking assistance with assignments. It was always difficult to concentrate among the din, there was always some conversation or another taking place that was much more interesting than writing yet another proposal, but Tuesdays were the worst.

On Tuesdays, the graduate teaching seminar met in the student office. For an hour each week, the teaching assistants dragged whatever chairs they could find to the center of the room and formed a circle to discuss problems that had arisen in their classrooms, questions they had about university policy, and an article on teaching practices they were assigned to - but never actually did - read. The class was supposed to be useful, a way for them all to prepare for their futures as academics, but it usually turned into a shouting match as the stronger personalities argued over one another about best practices in classroom management. And after, when the dust settled and the faculty facilitator was gone, students who didn’t have a one o’clock class stuck around to catch up on whatever departmental gossip they’d missed throughout the week.

Most days, Natalia was able to tune it all out. Her desk was in the corner, hidden behind a flimsy partition, and her noise cancelling headphones worked wonders to drown out the arguments. She didn’t love catching snippets of pointless conversations about which departmental policies were outdated - they all were - or which graduate students were sleeping together but she made it work. However, today was not one of those days.

She had several important deadlines looming over her head - conference submissions, revisions for a potential publication, the first draft of her thesis proposal, all due within days of one another - and she was feeling overwhelmed. The argument as to whether the department was too hard or too soft on students - or whether professors played favorites - was only making things worse. Instead of subjecting herself to two more hours of torture, she decided to pack up her bag and head to the coffee shop across the street. Even if it was loud, it had to at least be less hostile than the office.

She stood, satchel slung over one shoulder with her cellphone and headphones in hand, and glanced over the top of her partition at the girl who sat across from her. Nicole, like Natalia, wore headphones whenever she worked in the office and only glanced up when Natalia tossed a paperclip at her.

“I’m going to Molly’s,” she announced when Nicole pulled her headphones away from her ears and glanced up at her. Natalia struggled to keep her voice quiet in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself, though she was half certain she could yell and still not be heard over her colleagues. However, she remained cautious as the last thing she wanted was for anyone to join her. “You want anything?”

“A new job, a better salary, a husband who takes out the trash… I could go on,” Nicole answered, rolling her neck and grinning tiredly at Natalia’s deadpan expression. “I’ll settle for a caramel latte, though. With almond milk and extra caramel, please. I’ll Venmo you.”

“I’ve got it,” Natalia assured her with a wave of her hand as Nicole reached for her cellphone, “you got me boba last week. You have class at three, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” Nicole sighed as she dropped the device, straightened up in her chair, and pulled a face as she glanced at the syllabus tacked to her partition wall. “We’re going over how Marxism influenced Burke today. I think I’d rather chew off my own foot than try to teach a group of undergrads about either Marxism or Burke.”

“I know the point of college is to make kids think,” Natalia began as she hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder and ambled around her partition to stop beside Nicole’s desk, “but I’m glad I got the class that’s a little more, ‘well, duh,’ than that. We’re going over how fundamentally fucked the US healthcare system is today.”

Nicole paused for a moment, staring at Natalia with a look that reeked of both annoyance and exhaustion, before she dropped her head to her desk and asked, “Is it too late to drop out?”

This was a conversation they’d had at least once a week since their first semester of graduate school and Natalia bit back a laugh as she nodded. “Yep. You’re halfway through your thesis proposal, no quitting now,” she pointed out as she nodded toward the stack of books on religious rhetoric that Nicole had stacked on her desk. “Anyway, only eight more months until we’re free.”

“I’m three pages in,” Nicole informed her, a pitiful whine erupting from her throat as she lifted her head and ran a hand through her unwashed curls. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Natalia, who had been under the impression that she was impossibly behind although she only lacked a completed methodology section, grimaced upon learning just how far behind Nicole was. She gave her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and, although she had her own deadlines to meet, offered her assistance. “I’ll probably be sticking around after class tonight,” she informed her as she thought about the papers she still needed to grade, “if you need me to help with anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Nicole sighed as she turned in her chair and smiled at Natalia, the exhaustion evident in her features although they were only a month into the semester. “I’m thinking about a writing party on Friday so that people can submit conference papers and then go get hammered after. You in?”

“Always down for drinks after opening myself up for rejection. You can send out an email and maybe follow up with a GroupMe or something. Your husband won’t mind you spending Friday with us?” she asked as she glanced over at the group of students, now talking instead of arguing, that still remained in the room. Although they got on her nerves sometimes, she had grown to love most of them.

“He’s going to a football game with some friends. If I stay home, I’ll just end up falling asleep in the tub with a glass of wine. I’ll send the email after class,” Nicole answered as she grabbed her headphones and moved to reposition them onto her ears. “Go, get out of here before someone stops you. You’ll be back by three?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you have to leave. I’ll text you when I’m on my way over. See you in a bit,” Natalia hummed as she tapped the top of Nicole’s partition before maneuvering around the group that crowded the doorway and stepping out into the hall.

The building itself wasn’t that busy, it rarely was, but campus was teeming with students as Natalia stepped outside. They typically opted for afternoon classes rather than morning ones and it was obvious that classes held after lunch were the most populated as she watched students wander from building to building. Her own undergraduate experience had been very different - classes as early in the morning as she could get them and work in the afternoons until late at night - but she understood the desire to take advantage of the opportunity.

As a graduate student, her schedule was a little different. She was usually the first one to arrive in the office, just to get a little work done, and held office hours during lunch. She was a TA for a class that met on Tuesdays and Thursday at three and had her own classes to attend, with each of the three meeting once a week, starting at six p.m. and ending at around ten. 

She was busier than she had ever been, even busier than the two years she spent working two jobs and overloading her class schedule. It was harder and lonelier than undergrad had been. She had little time to feel human or socialize without anyone outside of her program, however, she told herself that it would all be worth it when she finished and had a master’s degree under her belt.

Natalia made the most of the few minutes it took her to walk from her office to Molly’s, the closest coffee shop to campus that wasn’t the always crowded Starbucks in the library. She rarely got to enjoy her days. They were usually spent locked in the office or cooped up in the library, neither of which had enough windows. Although it was September, fall still seemed a lifetime away. 

She could still smell summer as an occasional ocean breeze wafted through campus. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the air was warm. It felt like the height of summer, as it usually did in Los Angeles, and she was grateful that she’d chosen to wear a dress instead of pants as the slight breeze kept her from overheating as she entered Molly’s.

The little coffee shop was every Instagram obsessed student’s dream. The exterior was nondescript with plain white walls and a small patio with string lights and a few small tables, however, the interior more than made up for it. There were walls covered with ivy - though Natalia didn’t know if it was real or not - and neon signs littered around the space. There was also a loft with tables and chairs that always seemed to be quieter than the rest of the shop.

It had all been too much for her the first time she visited. It seemed gimmicky, not the kind of place she wanted to frequent even if it was convenient, however, her opinion changed the moment she tried the coffee. Her predecessors in the program hadn’t been wrong in telling her that it was the best coffee she could get and that it served as a good hideout when the office got to be too much to handle. She understood why it was frequented by both students and the outside community, even if it took them too close to campus.

Although the coffee shop was bustling with students rushing in and out between classes, filled with the sounds of conversation and the excitement that came with a new school year, it still seemed quieter than the office. After ordering her iced coffee and settling into a table near the entrance, Natalia slipped her headphones back on and bit her lip in concentration as she opened her laptop and began working on the revisions she’d gotten back from her co-author.

It was difficult, not paying attention to the patrons that entered the shop as she loved people watching, but Natalia kept her eyes on her screen and typed away. If she had glanced up, she might have seen the looks that people threw one another as two men entered the shop. She might have seen how a few snuck pictures with their cellphones or how others whispered excitedly as they passed them by. But she didn’t. All she saw was the cursor on her document blink as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.

She focused on typing a new explanation for a concept she thought she’d covered well enough to need no further explanation, a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over her head as she let the reviewer’s comments weigh on her pride. However, as she got into a groove, her word count quickly climbing, she felt something cold splash against her right side.

She sat, stunned, for a few seconds, before she pulled her headphones off and blinked at the coffee that stained the right side of her dress and dripped from her skin. Ice cubes gathered in her lap, cold seeping through the fabric of her dress as she attempted to process what happened. It took a few more seconds of staring at the mess before she picked up her laptop and held it away from the growing pool of coffee. Ice cubes clattered to the floor as she stood and she grimaced as she watched them fall. She looked over the computer, sighing in relief when nothing appeared to be wet, before she lifted her head and looked at the person responsible.

Any other time, her attention would be on how beautiful the man in front of her was. He stood a head taller than her, easily, with broad shoulders and a surprised expression that she was sure matched her own. His blonde curls had fallen into his eyes, obscuring the blue slightly, and his cheeks and upturned nose were tinted pink in embarrassment as he looked over the damage he’d done.

They stared at one another for longer than necessary, his eyes lingering on her face just as hers lingered on his, and she was glad that he at least had the decency to stare at her face instead of the wet fabric clinging to her. The man beside him, slightly shorter and more amused than embarrassed, nudged his friend who moved as if he were a video that had been taken off pause.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his words rushing together as he watched her place her laptop on a neighboring table to keep it out of harm’s way before she reached for a few napkins. “Fuck, here, let me help you with that.”

His hand bumped into hers as he reached for more napkins and began wiping at the table and, as cliche as it was, she felt a jolt of something shoot down her spine as she quickly pulled her hand away. It was easy for Natalia to ignore the feeling as she watched him make matters worse. She tried to hide it, however, she couldn’t help but grimace as she moved her bag away from the table, slipping it over her head in an effort to avoid him sweeping coffee inside it.

She shook her head at his apology and reached for another handful of napkins. “It’s okay,” she sighed, not wanting to be rude even though she knew she’d have to take time she was planning on using to write to go home and change before class, “at least it was iced coffee.” She tossed the soaked napkins into the trash and bent down to pick up the ice cubes and cup from the ground. “What happened, anyway?”

“He tripped,” the shorter, dark-haired man informed her before he took a sip of his coffee. He still looked amused, positively delighted as he watched his friend struggle to find the right words to say, and Natalia bit back a laugh as she realized everyone had a friend like him.

“I didn’t trip,” the taller man defended with a roll of his eyes, cutting his eyes at his friend before returning his attention to Natalia. He met her eyes sheepishly, the embarrassment softening his features as he explained, “Someone bumped into me on their way in and I, uh…” He trailed off, clearly having planned on saying that he tripped, and dropped his gaze to the floor as Natalia laughed.

“Tripped?” she finished, a smile on her lips despite the situation. When the taller man grimaced, bringing the hand not full of soaked napkins up to rub at the back of his neck, she laughed once more.

“Fine, I tripped,” he acknowledged, “but it wasn’t just being clumsy. Someone really did bump into me.” He gave his explanation more to his friend than to her and she wondered how often he found himself tripping over thin air. He looked solid, like he wouldn’t be the type to trip over his own two feet, but looks could be deceiving and she knew from personal experience how annoying it was to be the clumsy friend.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, a little more sincere in her assurance this time as she offered him a genuine smile. “Nothing spilled on my laptop and it wasn’t boiling so, worst case scenario was avoided. I think I’ll just not sit near the door next time, though.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” he agreed. His lips were quirked in a smile, grateful that she wasn’t yelling at him, and he still held the soaked napkins in his hands. “I still feel bad, though. Can I make it up to you; buy you a coffee or something?” he asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice that told her he wasn’t just looking to make up for spilling coffee on her.

As much as it pained her to turn him down - and it hurt quite a bit as she found him to be beautiful, even in basketball shorts and a t-shirt - she didn’t have time. “That would be great,” she began, a rueful smile on her lips as she grabbed her laptop and slid it into her bag, “but I have to run. I need to go get changed before class. It’s really okay, though. No big deal.”

She didn’t miss the nudge his friend gave him and raised an eyebrow as she watched him swat at his friend’s elbow. “I, uh, how about dinner, then?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. 

He looked so earnest, his skin still tinted pink and his eyes wide, and she felt a giddy excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach. He was gorgeous, the kind of guy she never imagined would be interested in her, and she wanted to give him a chance. She didn’t know him, didn’t know if that chance would turn into a disaster, but she found herself wanting to take that risk.

“I have class until ten tonight,” she told him, biting back a coo when his face dropped at what he assumed was her rejection, “but if you tell me your name, I think I could free up my Friday night for dinner.”

He blinked, surprised at how her sentence ended, and smiled at her. He had a unique smile, his teeth on full display and tongue pressed to the back of them, and his eyes brightened as he nodded his agreement. “Right, yeah. Luke,” he introduced, moving to offer her his hand before realizing he still held the wad of napkins. “This meeting isn’t really going that well, huh?”

“I’d say it went south when you dumped coffee on her,” the friend commented, not even bothering to hide his grin as he watched the interaction unfold before him. “All downhill from there, mate.”

“I’m Natalia,” she introduced, pointedly ignoring his friend’s comment with an amused glance in his direction. “I’ve had worse first meetings, don’t worry. My freshman year roommate opened a door on me and gave me a concussion. You just stained a dress.”

“Oddly, that makes me feel better about this, thanks,” Luke laughed as he reached out and dropped the napkins into the garbage. “Can I get your number? That way you can go change now and we can make plans later,” he clarified, smiling at her as he offered her his cellphone to put her number in.

She felt Luke’s gaze on her as she put her number into his phone and she offered him a smile as she handed the device back. “I have one request for Friday,” she told him as she grabbed her own phone from the table and grinned at the text he sent her with his name, “no tables near the entrance.” Luke laughed at her request, a sound that she found endearing, and Natalia grinned at him. “I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

“See you on Friday,” he confirmed, grinning as he watched her step around him.

Natalia and Luke maintained eye contact for a moment, each giddy and grinning as they felt the butterflies of something new on the horizon, before Natalia bumped into something solid on her way out and made a face before quickly turning to apologize. She tossed Luke a wave over her shoulder, her own cheeks burning in embarrassment, as she heard his friend mumble, “Wow, she’s perfect for you.”

As she stepped out into the world once more, she grinned at the encounter. It made her lose an hour of writing time - and ruined her favorite dress - but maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d been single for years and hadn’t had any luck with dating apps. She knew that a boyfriend wasn’t the most necessary thing in her life, however, it might be nice to be the girl with a date for once. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Luke was gorgeous.

Whatever the future held for them, she found herself looking forward to it. 

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: If I try to start another series, someone fight me. Like, actually, genuinely fight me. I’m focusing on Rose Tattoo, These Violent Delights, and this. (And MF if I get inspiration but those updates are more sporadic, never meant to be regular, sorry. :() I want to write a few one shots but they’ll likely be shorter and just fun, you know? Not super plot heavy. I may or may not update the next chapter of this sooner than a week because this is kind of short. But, hey, I’ve got all the time in the world because after I defend next week, I’m done with grad school and that’s mildly terrifying. Anyway.  Here we go.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985 , @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @old-zeppelin-shirt , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​

[lilibetts]

Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!

(Part 2/3, Theme 1)

Betty was going to delete LoveAlarm from her phone.

She should have deleted LoveAlarm off her phone.

But come Wednesday afternoon, she still hasn’t, and she couldn’t have told you why. A glutton for punishment, probably.

>>No, you’re just a hopeful romantic! Veronica texts her while she’s in the library during study hall, working on an English essay.  >>The app is all about proximity. You don’t know who you simply haven’t been within twenty feet of yet. Or maybe they just haven’t downloaded the app.

Maybe so, yet Betty can’t help but feel like there is a fine line between hopeful and masochistic. She wants to text Veronica back with a passive-aggressive message about how Veronica has it easy with a bunch of pings and *at least* two people around the school who love her. But she doesn’t because that would be shitty.

The point is, LoveAlarm is still on her phone and she’s doing her best to forget all about it and her unexpectedly complicated feelings about Archie. That’s when it happens: she feels her phone buzzing across the wood table.

Frowning, she checks it, assuming it’s Veronica with more encouraging platitudes. Betty can scarcely believe what she sees, however:

1.

Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!

The red heart on her screen is practically vibrating off the phone as she watches in shock. Her eyes dart up and around, landing on every face surrounding her. There has to be what, twelve people in the library that could be within twenty feet of her? It’s a popular location for study hall, after all. 

Someone is in love with her.

Was it Trev? Chuck? Sweet Pea? Alex C.? Tyler? Dilton? Of course it occurs to Betty that it could be a girl, but she isn’t up to date on who’s Out and who Veronica and Kevin are convinced are closeted. It definitely isn’t Ethel Muggs, who has started scowling at her every chance she gets lately.

The number on her phone goes back down to zero, so either the person turned their phone off or they just left her radius. Another frantic glance around only shows her the front doors swinging shut. Frowning, Betty realizes that Sweet Pea is no longer in the library and Trev has gotten up and walked over to a shelf in the back. Nobody seems to be doing anything with their phone.

Biting her lip, Betty considers her options, but there’s really only one solution.

                       *********************************************************

Jughead is in the Blue & Gold, fingers clacking away at the typewriter Betty had gotten him for his 16th birthday, Sweet Pea’s teasing words echoing in his ears, when said Hitchcock blonde comes bursting into the room.

“Juggie!” she exclaims a little breathlessly. She has one of those determined grins on her face that make his heart go pitter-patter. 

Thankfully, his phone is off, so it can’t tell on him.

“I need your help.” She drags another chair up to his desk and sits down primly, spine straight and ankles crossed. /If you have the time./

/Of course. What’s up?/

Betty hesitates then, biting her lip. /I downloaded LoveAlarm,/ she says finally, arms and voice tentative. /Someone pinged it in the library earlier and I want you to help me find out who./ With that, Betty slaps down a piece of paper with a list of names on it. Jughead swallows hard.

He’s not an absolute moron, he did expect this. When presented with an unknown suitor, of course Betty Cooper would immediately start to investigate. 

He could just tell her, but again, vulnerability is scary. As Tim Kreider wrote, “If you want to enjoy the rewards of being loved, you also have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” It’s a certainty that she’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe he’s being a coward, but hey, Betty *loves* solving mysteries.  

Jughead doesn’t expect her love in return, he’s just flattered that he was the first one she thought of to help her figure out who pinged her LoveAlarm.

/Why are Sweet Pea and Trev’s names starred?/

/They left my radius around the same time my LoveAlarm went from 1 to 0./

When Jughead had decided to sneak into the library earlier and make her phone ping while he hid in the stacks behind her, he had been counting on the other students around her as cover but now, seeing that she’s zeroed in on two guys in particular has a pit opening up in his stomach.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jones. Just tell her,” Sweet Pea had told him.

His hands feel clunky as he tries to sign. /And if it’s one of them, how would you feel?/

The question stymies Betty, who shakes her head and shrugs, gathering up her things. /I don’t know. Let’s just figure out who it is and I’ll figure out how I feel then./

“Okay,” Jughead ends up saying to her retreating back.

Thursday is simultaneously the most fun and the most torturous. In the morning, Jughead finds himself helping Betty stalk Sweet Pea down G Hallway, chatting him up to stall him near the Chem classrooms and surreptitiously waving her over once he ascertains that Sweet Pea has his phone out and turned on. 

“Hey, Sweet Pea!” 

Betty practically bounces as she comes to a stop next to him, eyes bright but biting her lip nervously. She’s balancing a 13”x9” tupperware container in her arms, and her phone is in her left hand, turned away from them so they can’t see LoveAlarm open on the screen.

Of course Jughead turned his own off as soon as he arrived at school. What do you think he is? An amateur?

“'Sup, Coop?” Sweet Pea doesn’t know a lot of sign language, but he smiles down at her easily. Jughead is overwhelmed by a sudden urge to kick him in the shin. “Are those for me?” Sweet Pea approximates sign with some basic pointing from the cupcakes in the tupperware container before pointing at himself.

“Uh…” Betty’s sneaking a glance at her phone and for a moment, Jughead is worried. “Yes, you can have one. They’re Boston Cream Pie cupcakes.” 

He groans on the inside. Those are his favorite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Sweet Pea murmurs, grabbing one and peeling away the liner so he can take a bite.

This time, Jughead’s groan may have been audible.

Betty catches Jughead’s eye and shakes her head. Great, that’s one name scratched off their list. To Sweet Pea, she says: “I better be off, or I’ll be late. Bye, guys!” 

Jughead watches her leave, ponytail swishing from side to side. Sweet Pea watches him watch her leave for a moment before he clears his throat.

“Listen, Jones, I don’t mean to rush you and all, but...having a cute girl come up to you all smiles and offering you a cupcake—a damn delicious cupcake at that—might make a guy catch feelings. Just saying.” With that, Sweet Pea takes another bite of the cupcake, getting chocolate icing smeared all around his lips. Every chew he takes seems like a threat. A helpful threat.

“Lima Charlie,” Jughead sighs. Message received and understood. Sweet Pea’s older brother had been in the army and thus, he and Jughead had spent years using military jargon over walkie talkies as they snuck around Sunnyside. With a nod, Sweet Pea gives him an unnecessarily hard pat on the back and heads down the hallway.

When Jughead ducks into the Blue & Gold in between the next classes, he sees the tupperware container on his desk, next to his typewriter, a sticky note on top:

The rest are yours! I made your favorites, after all. -B

God I love you, Betty Cooper.

Lunchtime is nearly a disaster. Betty had roped the two of them into helping the Theater Club finish some set decoration for a production of Almost, Maine. All for nothing, because as it turns out, Trev is out for a dentist appointment. Still, Jughead manages to have fun being half-heartedly helpful while he eats his lunch—two ham sandwiches Betty brought in for him as a bribe for helping her with this—and Betty’s having a good time too, as evidenced by the fact she’s smiling so hard her eyes crinkle, and even when she tries to scrunch up her face to be mad at him eating more than painting, it just collapses into another giggling fit.

It’s when lunch is over and they’re heading up the aisle to where they’d left their things that Jughead remembers he left his phone on. Betty has hers with her, since she thought she would be testing Trevor’s phone for pings, and she’s barely five feet behind him.

Crap.

He hurries ahead and grabs it, depressing the power button. Just before the screen goes black, he could have sworn he saw his LoveAlarm app begin to open.

He doesn’t let himself think anything of it. In the rush, his thumb had probably hit the app button.

                  **************************************************************

Thursday night finds Betty pondering the mystery that still remains: the identity of the person who loves her. Sweet Pea has been eliminated from the list of possibilities, but Trev Brown remains a question mark. 

Curled up in her thick socks and comfiest sweatpants, hair wet from her shower and starting to curl, Betty stares at her laptop screen as she contemplates their next step. Her and Jughead had bonded over their mutual love of The Baxter Brothers and Tracy True books as children, and they’d conducted more than one investigation together over the years, so it’s natural that Betty had gone to him for help with this, even if it’s a little embarrassing.

But why, a niggling little voice asks at the back of her mind. Jughead’s question comes back to her: what will she do if it’s Trev? She doesn’t know. 

Trev’s...nice. He’s cute, and smart, and Betty doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’d do with the knowledge that he’s in love with her. Go on a date with him, she supposes, to at least see whether there is something there before she...breaks his heart? That’s what you do, right? You go to dinner at one of the few nicer restaurants in town or you go see a movie at the Bijou.

She doesn’t really want to think about this, Betty realizes, as her attention wanders from her Sleuthster search results to the ads along the column on the right. One ad catches her eye and she gasps, straightening in her chair and grabbing her phone. Her thumbs fly over the keys as before she hits [send].

<<Do you still have the reels for Rear Window?

>>Yes, why?

<<We should set the projector up in my basement and watch it this weekend. I’ll supply the snacks.

>>Capital idea, Betts, but how are you going to get all that junk food past the K9-level olfactory senses of Alice Cooper?

<<It just so happens that my mom and dad are going to visit Polly in Boston this weekend.

>>Cambridge. Just say Cambridge.

<<As long as we dispose of the evidence and air out the basement with some Febreeze, mom will be none the wiser. I’m sure Archie will donate his trash bin to the cause.

There’s a longer pause before Jughead replies.

>>It’s a   plan

>>Speaking of plans, what do you need me to do tomorrow re: Mission Pings?

Betty grins and taps out the basic framework of how they’re going to corner Trev before the pizza party at lunch, but Jughead will have her phone on him so he can feel for her ping, and listen for Trev’s ping. A thought occurs to her and Betty suddenly feels selfish for insisting that Jug help her.

<<I meant to ask you...have you downloaded LoveAlarm?

>>What do you think?

>>Besides, I already know what it would say.

A terrible feeling, like a vise in her chest, takes her over as she reads and re-reads those words. How can Jughead believe this? Almost immediately on the heels of that thought is the reminder that Betty herself had been despondent on Tuesday when she allowed the melodramatic thought  that ‘nobody was going to ever love her’ to take hold.

<<That’s bullshit. Any girl would be lucky to fall in love with you!

She means her words. Jughead may be antisocial, he may wear that crown beanie practically all the time, and okay, yes he can be the most extra fucking weirdo on the planet...but he’s also clever and passionate, she’s seen firsthand how caring and considerate he can be, and of course he’s objectively attractive. 

Betty stares at the window that faces the Andrews’ home, with the roller shades that are always pulled down lately, and pictures Jughead’s face in her mind, how he’s a bit on the pretty side, especially with that mouth. She thinks about how jealous she’s been of that wild head of dark hair in the past, when she’s seen him with the hat off, and how over the past year he’s shot up another inch or two and seems to have filled out, especially in the arms—

>>From your thumbs to God’s ears, Betts. Night, I’ve gotta be up bright and early to help you catch the worm.

She lets out a huff of laughter and rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see her.

<<Night, Juggie.

[adoreyou303]

Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

(CW: Mention of sexual assault and panic attacks)

Chapter Two

As time passes, Harry’s world feels as though it’s standing still. He isn’t sure how long he has been in the uncomfortable chair before the shrill ringing of his phone rips him from his thoughts. 

“Hello?” he rasps. 

“Harry? Where the hell are you? What is going on?” Harry’s manager, Jeff, screeches through the phone. 

“It’s Melanie. She’s been attacked. ’m with her at the hospital.”

“Jesus. What the fuck happened? The news is showing pictures of you getting in an ambulance. Are you hurt too?” Jeff questions worriedly. 

“No, ‘m fine. We found her being attacked. Scared the guy off. Jeff, he hurt her. Bad.” 

“The whole place is reeling with cameras. There’s no way he got in or out without being recorded.” The line goes quiet for a few seconds before Jeff sighs. “Do you want some company?” 

“That’d be nice,” Harry mumbles, running his fingers through his hair, the styling long forgotten. 

“Right, I’m on my way. I know this isn’t a good time, but we have to release a message to your fans about the concert. Do you have any ideas?” 

“Something about a personal emergency. I will release a statement when you get here. Just make it short and sweet, but vague. I’ll do damage control when I know she’s okay.”

“She’s going to be alright, mate.”

Harry and Jeff wait for an agonizing 30 minutes before Dr. Rameriz knocks on the door to the private room. The singer stands nervously, waiting to hear any news on his best friend. 

“She’s awake and asking for you,” the doctor smiles. “We’re only allowing one person at a time, so let’s just start with Harry.” 

His heart almost beats out his chest upon hearing the news of her asking for him. If it were up to him, he would run down the hallway and be by her side in an instant. Something in the air of how Dr. Rameriz looks at him tells him there’s something more he needs to know. 

As they walk toward Melanie’s room, Dr. Rameriz places a gentle hand on Harry’s arm. 

“Based on the injuries we were able to assess, we believe she was raped. We haven’t told her the full extent of her situation yet. She wasn’t in the mindset for any of us to tell her. In order for us to run all of our tests and submit a report to the police, we need her consent.”

“I can’t believe this… Are you asking… Are you saying you want me to tell her? This should be her decision.”

“I know this is a lot to take in. Of course it’s up to her to choose what she wants to do. She has every right to decline. We would just like your help to break the news to her. She seems to trust you. Sometimes it’s easier for patients to hear this kind of news from a loved one or with a loved one around. It can help aid them in making decisions or just having emotional support.” 

“Okay, what can I do?” he asks eagerly. 

Walking into her room, Harry felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Even in the hospital with tubes and bruises, she looked like the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He attempts to walk on his toes to be as quiet as possible, but the shuffling causes her to stir. 

“Harry,” she croaks, her eyes lighting up when she spots the figure by the door. 

“Hello, love. How are you feeling?” he asks, crossing the room in nearly two strides. He reaches down to grab her hand, but immediately recoils, fearing he will hurt her further. 

“It’s okay, you can hold my hand,” she smiles gently, wiggling her fingers slightly. Harry intertwines their fingers, bringing her hand up to his lips to leave a tender kiss near her thumb. 

“How are you feeling?” he urges, tilting his head slightly to indicate she has his full attention. 

“Sore. They gave me some stitches and I have bruises everywhere, but I’m okay. It could have been worse,” she sighs. He nods sadly, looking down at her body that is covered by the white sheet.

“Do you remember anything about what happened?” he asks softly, placing his other hand over their intertwined ones. Her eyes widen and for a second, he can almost see a scene flash through her mind, but as quick as she stumbled, she recovers as she shakes her head no. 

“I just remember something over my mouth and waking up not able to move,” she whispers. He can feel her hands shake beneath his, slightly wet from the nerves of recounting her recent attack. 

“When I found you, your attacker was on top of you,” Harry starts, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her palm.

“I remember falling out of a room or something. We were against a door…” she recalls, her eyes searching around the room aimlessly. 

“Right. He was on top of you… with his pants off,” he finishes, the last part quieter than a whisper. Her heart feels like it stopped. Her body freezes as she frantically tries to piece together any memories she can. 

“What?” she whispers, her eyes watering. 

“’m so sorry,” he says, lowering his head in a mix of guilt and sadness. 

Before Harry could even process any thoughts, he hears the sounds of rapid breathing and painful sobs emanating from the person he cared about most. If he thought the sight of her in a hospital bed was bad, the sight of her completely breaking down shattered his heart to pieces. A rush of alarms and bells sound, signaling she’s in some sort of distress. 

“Can I touch you? ’m going to help,” Harry asks quickly, but calmly, dropping their hands to bring himself face to face with her. She looks at him hesitantly, but nods in agreement despite her panicked state. Harry climbs into the bed behind her, noticing how she flinches at his touch. He reminds her of his intentions by repeating his name and what he’s doing in a slow and soothing voice despite the mess of nerves building in the pit of his stomach. Nurses race into the room and take in this odd sight. 

“She’s panicking,” Harry relays. “‘S okay, love. It’s Harry. I know you’re in there. Can you feel me breathing?” She nods against his shoulder, a feeling of embarrassment and anxiety swelling in her throat. 

“Good. Try to match your breathing with mine. Start small. In and out,” he instructs, exaggerating his breathing to help guide her. Her painful gasps of air start to even out as Harry continues to give her praise and encouragement. He peppers her hairline with kisses, admiring her inward and outwardly for her courage to fight. 

“You’re doing so well, darling. Just keep breathing, nice and slow. ’m right here with you,” he says gently. 

“Please don’t go,” she chokes out, her fingers grasping at his expensive shirt. 

“‘m not going anywhere, love. ’m staying right here with you.” 

Her uneven breathing settles into strangled cries mixed with an occasional sob. A kind nurse with a warm smile asks if she would like some medication. 

“No, no medication,” she cries, turning her head into Harry’s chest.

“It’ll help you sleep,” she encourages, placing a hand on the bed’s safety rail.

“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to close my eyes,” she admits, a fresh wave of tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll stay right here while you sleep,” Harry tells her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She contemplates it for a few seconds, almost falling asleep with Harry gently running his fingers through her hair. Suddenly, her eyes snap open as she frantically tries to push herself out of Harry’s arms.

“Wha’? Wha’ is it, love?” he asks worriedly. “Are you hurting?” The nurse frantically presses the red assistance button and snaps on a pair of gloves.

“The concert! We have to… YOU! You have to go! Your fans, they’ll be so disappointed if you don’t show up,” she rattles off. Harry takes her face between his hands in an effort to talk to her quietly and calmly, eyeing nurse readying the injection behind her. The nurse places the medication in her IV. Slowly, her muscles relax and her eyes begin to close. 

“Rest now, love. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Harry whispers, running his fingers lightly across her forehead. 

“Your injuries are healing nicely. If you notice any oozing or new bruising, come back immediately. This paperwork has all the information we talked about earlier, all the medications, and numbers to reach me at if you need anything at all, okay? Take it easy. It’s been a pleasure taking care of you, but I don’t want to see you back here,” Dr. Rameriz smiles, handing Melanie a thick stack of discharge papers. She nods appreciatively and thumbs through the papers mindlessly. Harry watches her with careful eyes, not wanting to push her before she’s ready. 

“I can feel you watching me,” she speaks up, her eyes not leaving the papers in her hand. 

“Sorry, love. Are you ready to go? We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

She looks up with timid eyes, an uneasy feeling suddenly saturating the room. Sensing the shift in the air, Harry pushes out of the chair he had been perched in since the early hours of the morning and makes his way toward her. He makes all his movements visible to her, and she watches him with fear filled curiosity. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he nervously rubs his palms on the fabric of his pants. 

“W-what if I’m never ready?” she stutters, feeling small and helpless.

“Oh, love. I wish I could take this away from you… all of this. I can’t go back and change what happened and I’m so sorry, but I can be there for you, with you, through the rest of this. You’re not alone, Melanie.” 

With trembling hands, she reaches out to grip the hand resting on his thigh. He responds by lacing his fingers through her hers. “Take your time. We will go at your pace.” Slowly, she leans her head on his shoulder. They sit on the hospital bed for an unknown length of time, with his head atop of hers, and for just a moment, it’s just the two of them: two small people in this big world.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Would You Rather [Chapter 1]

The guys laughed at my addition to game night but were, at minimum, sarcastically supportive to try. The weekly ritual of me and a couple of my friends from work consisted of beer and board games every Thursday.

Matt and Jim both worked on my team, sort of, while John was our boss’s peer. Honestly having John invited to these probably wasn’t the most ‘ethical’ thing but we all genuinely enjoyed each others’ company and all loved games. I didn’t think John’s presence would be an issue and it hadn’t been.

Oh, and me, Kyle.

Sometimes another guy, Robert, came but he was spotty. He worked near us but was usually busy with something or another. Tonight it was just the four of us.

The game I found was from one of my favorite online board game stores and included very little in the box. There was, believe it or not, a DVD for the instructions, some stacks of paper and pencils, what looked to be a scorecard for up to 8 players, and a baggie of different board game pieces (dice, little colored squares, some coins, and other loose garbage). Online it had pretty good reviews and promised to be a unique experience unlike any other.

So after the laughter of the DVD instructions and clear scam I submitted to, we popped over to the living room and put the disc into my xBox. Man was this video old. It looked like a DVD copy of an early 90’s VHS.

A man came on screen and welcomed us to the game of “Would You Rather?” I had personally played a game by the same name where you had to guess what the other players would answer. It was a cute quick game that spawned good conversation. I assumed this would be similar.

As the host went on, I started to feel a little tired. Long day at the office I suppose. I accidentally dropped my head for a second but came too quickly just as he got to the rules of the game.

“Each player should write 2 options on a piece of paper for another player to choose from. That player will then have to choose to do one of the options or lose a point. Each player starts with 3 points and the last player standing is the winner.

Please pause the video now and have each player write a card for each other player. Resume the video once that is complete.”

Matt asked, “So I write one option per paper?”

“No,” John answered. “I think you write both options on a single sheet and then do the same for two other sheets. So you have a ‘would you rather’ question for each person.” “Oh, got it.” Matt looked up to the ceiling and scrunched his face while thinking of his options.

I added a bit of my strategy out loud, “So, I want you guys to pass on these right? That’s how you lose points.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jim confirmed. “I guess they should be pretty hard then.”

“Well that’s pretty easy then, right?” Matt asked. “I’ll just make you get naked.”

“And who said I wouldn’t do that?” Jim joked.

The guys were all straight, to my knowledge. Maybe bi, who knows. Each of them were married though with kids, except Robert who wasn’t here. I myself was gay and I think they knew it but we never really talked about it. The idea of any of them getting naked was kind of hot I had to admit.

Matt was pretty short but proportioned so nicely. I found myself staring at his butt through the week. Jim was like the complete opposite: a walking bear. Probably 6’5” and big all-around. I’d be lying if I didn’t secretly wonder if everything was big. John was the oldest in the group, maybe late 40s, but in great shape for his age. He had started to get some salt in his dark hair the past couple years and it suited him well. I, myself, was pretty average across the board. I kept in shape but mainly due to diet. I only hit the gym a couple times a week at best.

Back to the game.

I scribbled down some would you rathers that were pretty tame; mostly embarrassing stuff even though I would have loved to write out explicit acts. I didn’t want to weird anyone out.

When we had finished writing ours down, we put them face-down in front of us. Matt and Jim had been snickering the entire time. I pressed play on the video to figure out more specifics on the rules.

“Ready to continue and start the game? Good! Don’t turn away and keep watching and listening to me. You may not have known, but you’ve been hypnotized from an earlier part of this video. Sorry about that, but we found it to be a much more exciting game this way.”

What the fuck, I thought. I wanted to turn to see the other guys’ reaction but I couldn’t stop looking at the screen. I couldn’t even speak.

“The game will go as follows. You’ll all put your pieces of paper in a bowl or hat and take turns drawing them until all slips have been taken. Which means it’s possible to get your own card. I hope you weren’t too hard on your fellow players…

Also, there’s no opting out. Tonight is about the thrill of learning what your friends or family really would rather do. Once you read the options, you have to pick one and complete it unless physically impossible.”

What the fuck?!

“The game is over once all cards have been read. That’s it! Two final little adverts before I let you get on with your night. Firstly, once the game is over all you’ll remember is that this game was really fun, so be sure to leave us a good review online. And secondly, while leaving us a good review, check out our other selection of amazing games for your next party.

And with that, this video will finish and you can begin the game. Youngest player goes first and will continue in that order. Have fun!”

Once the video ended I was back to myself but we all exclaimed the same things. What the fuck. What is this shit. Oh my god. Fucking fuckers. Holy fuck. Etcetera.

“Kyle, what the fuck man?! Did you know about this!?” Matt asked.

“No! Honestly! It just had good reviews so I bought it. I had no idea!”

Jim layered on, “and you didn’t think to look over the rules first before you brought us into this shit?”

“You saw me open it up with you guys! Why would I have thought this was a possibility?!”

There was clearly anger in the room. There was very little question in anyone’s mind that it was real because I’m sure everyone had tried to turn away or speak or something during that monologue and none were successful. That’s when a tingling started in my mind, forcing me towards my first move. I knew I was the youngest.

“Fuck.”

“Me too,” John said. “It’s like I’m physically getting pushed back towards the table to play.”

We all tried to fight it but couldn’t and walked back to the table with our slips of paper. I went into the kitchen to grab a popcorn bowl and brought it to the center of the table. We each threw our cards into it and I mixed them around.

“I’m so sorry guys.” Matt had anguish on his face. “I just wanted you all to pass on my cards.”

“Fuck! Same. Shit fuck fuck,” Jim said.

I mixed the cards around and pulled the first one out. It felt like I was playing Russian Roulette. I recognized Jim’s sloppy handwriting instantly and my eyes darted to him.

He just closed his eyes in shame.

“Piss your pants or put hot sauce on your dick.”

“Sorry.” Jim clearly was ashamed but I assumed we would all feel that and many other emotions tonight.

“I.. I get it. No sorries, Jim. I guess… I’d rather piss myself.” I decided to stand, for some reason. It took me like 30 seconds to start since it’s foreign to piss with your clothes still on but was finally able to let loose. The warm liquid filled around my crotch and went down my leg, darkening a path on my jeans as it went. Luckily I had gone before the guys came over but I was still one beer in and had some volume backed up.

“Not what I was hoping to do with my night but better that then getting an infection on my junk or something…” I sat back down.

We all knew each others’ ages, relatively at least, and knew that Jim was next. He scrunched his eyes, clearly not wanting to grab a slip but couldn’t really help himself. He pulled one out and yelled, “Fucking A!”

We were all silently looking at him as he read aloud, “WYR, I assume that means ‘would you rather,’” Shit, I thought. It was one of my cards. “Do a naked hula dance or eat a tub of mayonnaise.”

I think we all wanted to laugh but were all still intimidated by the night to come. I should make it clear that none of us had seen each other in any sort of undress. Matt and I went to the same gym but almost never were there at the same time and never in the locker room together.

“My answer would probably have been different, but I’m hoping the hypnosis was right and no one will remember this tomorrow… Fuck me. I’d rather do the hula fucking dance.”

Oh god! Jim was going to get naked? I honestly expected the mayonnaise, while gross, wasn’t that bad and I only had like a fourth of the container left in my fridge. It was a couple spoonfuls at best. Should I tell him?

The internal debate was immediately thrown away when he reached for the button on his jeans. He slid down his denim and then removed his shirt as well. Standing in front of me in just his boxers I was speechless. He really was bit everywhere. His gut was big and hairy, pecs were massive, shoulders, arms, legs, …bulge. I couldn’t tell too much with his semi-baggy boxers but a second later he shucked them to the ground as well.

Jim stood there covering himself with his hands with another heavy sigh. “Okay, here we go.” He raised both arms and started to do his, admittedly poor, attempt at a Hawaiian hula dance. I was curious why he didn’t keep one hand down to cover himself but perhaps it was this hypnosis shit or maybe he just didn’t think of it. Either way, I got to prove out my theory that he was indeed big everywhere.

Jim had a pretty big bush but even-so his soft cock was quite visible. I would guess 4ish inches soft and quite thick which sprung fantasies into my head about how big he would be hard. I imagined he was a grower and the impressive 4 soft inches would be a thick 8 when excited. I dreamed that I’d get the opportunity to see tonight.

He continued to sway his hips for a minute or so. His cock and hefty balls swinging back and forth as he did. I couldn’t turn away, for obvious reasons, but could tell the other guys were also watching intently. I’m positive they’re straight so I chalked it up again to the hypnosis power. Maybe we had to look? Maybe we had to do a lot of things the announcer didn’t make clear to us? The excitement was constantly rimmed with fear in my mind.

And like that, Jim declared he was finished, and turned around to dress. I got to see his ripe ass as well which was a wonderful, hairy treat.

“Nice moves, Jimbo,” John said with a smile.

“Haha, ass.” Jim said as he finished putting his shirt on. “I figure you guys won’t remember so why not? And I know Matty’s been wanting to see my big ol’ dick for a while now.”

“Shut up, Jim.” Matt wasn’t enthused. Maybe because it was his turn.

Without much ceremony or grandeur he reached in and grabbed a slip of paper and started to curse under his breath. “It’s one of my own damn submissions.”

John said, “Well isn’t that the best? I’d personally rather get all my own so no one else has to do what I wrote.”

“Yeah well John, I’m a fucking asshole who wanted you all to lose.”

It was true that Matt was the most competitive. Maybe it was a size thing, but he was always very competitive in all the games we played even if they were co-op.

“Would you rather suck everyone’s dick or send everyone at work a dick pic?”

“Oh…” John said.

“Yeah. Fuck me ‘oh’.” Matt wasn’t happy at all and I knew why. While our memories would hopefully be wiped clear from the night if he sent out a picture of his dick to everyone at work that would certainly be there tomorrow and would likely result in him getting fired or in the BEST case he’d get a huge warning and everyone would have a picture of his dick.

“At least you won’t remember?” Jim tried to cheer him up.

“Hard to find the silver lining in that with three dicks in my mouth, you dick.”

“Hey, you wrote it you dingus. Don’t get angry at us.”

“Fuuuuuuuck.” I could tell he wasn’t happy and was fighting it but whatever power this game had over us couldn’t be stopped and would push you towards the choice. “Get your fucking dick out, Jim.”

“Me first? Why?”

“Because you’re right next to me and I don’t fucking know or care. I just want to get this out of the way.”

Jim didn’t really protest further since it would be each of us one way or another. He unzipped his pants and lifted his butt off his chair to pull them and his underwear down a bit under his balls. He was still soft but did look a bit bigger than a minute ago.

“What if I can’t get hard?” he asked.

I answered, for some reason, “Something tells me the hypnosis will ensure we all cooperate.”

Matt got down off his chair and moved between Jim’s legs. His head actually blocked my view which frustrated me. I wanted to move around to watch but since John wasn’t moving I figured the urge was my own gay ones vs. the game. And if he was staying put I should too.

“Fuck me,” was the last thing Matt said before leaning in and taking Jim into his mouth. Jim let a little ‘ohh’ out immediately but then just leaned his head back. The sounds of a sloppy blowjob were obvious but at least Matt was using a lot of saliva. I really wish I could have watched the action. By Matt’s head bobs I’d assume he was only going down maybe 3-4 inches but was that because it was all he could take or because that’s all there was? Was Jim even hard yet?

Two minutes went by with just the sound of a wet blowjob and occasional moans from Jim. I was painfully hard and afraid that would be too ‘gay’ once it became my turn. Suddenly Jim shot his head back forward and looked down at Matt.

“Matt, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.”

Matt didn’t stop. I’m positive it was the hypnosis because there’s no way he would swallow but I guess the blow job was inferred to be ‘to completion’ mixed with ‘spitters are quitters.’

“Fuck.. ah fuck. FUUUCK!” Jim clearly shot into Matt’s mouth. Matt continued to bob during Jim’s sensitive eruption which lead to Jim’s body just convulsing. He didn’t push Matt off and instead rode with the waves of euphoria and climax.

It wasn’t until Jim’s convulsions stopped that Matt withdrew himself from Jim’s cock. “This is so fucking gross,” was all he said as he crawled under the table. That’s when I got to see Jim’s cock. Probably deflated a bit but still hard from the BJ he had just gotten, glistening with spit and remnants of his own semen. I was pretty spot on with my estimate. He was as thick as I expected and probably just shy of 8 inches now. His balls were pulled tight against his body still as he breathed heavily, eyes closed.

That’s when I noticed Matt’s hands on John’s leg. “Okay, dick hole, get your dick out.”

John obliged but stood up to undo his belt and jeans. He slid everything all the way down to his ankles and, most surprisingly, took off his shirt. “You don’t have to get naked, man!” Matt said.

“I know, but I like being naked when I get my dick sucked, you cocksucker.” He winked at Matt as he sat back down but I wasn’t really paying attention to their words. Sitting next to me, I could see all of John’s body for the first time in my life.

He was probably the most-fit out of all us. His body hair was limited but in all the right spots. Hairy pecs, a treasure trail that turned thicker as it roped down his torso, and a manicured bush highlighting a beautiful package. Nothing about John’s cock or balls was exceptional in dimension but man was it a good-looking dick. It was like what a well sculpted, realistic dildo would look like. I did notice that he shaved his balls though. John clearly took care of himself even now into his 40s, married, with 3 kids.

The other thing, of note, was that John was already rock hard. Perhaps it was the hypnosis or perhaps John was a bit more experimental than I thought. Either way, he was ready for Matt and Matt wasn’t enthused. I’m sure he wouldn’t be enthused either way though.

I won’t bore you with the struggles of a straight guy giving a blow job but in short, he couldn’t fit much in. The 3-4 inches was all Matt was capable of taking which is probably pretty good for a guy that’s never had a dick near his face, I assume.

While Matt sucked, John played with his own nipples. He moaned a lot more than Jim and even encouraged him by name. John wasn’t living in a fantasy, picturing his wife or something, he was living in the moment.

“Oh, fuck yeah Matt. Suck my cock. Mmmm, you’re so good at his man. That feels so good, Matt.”

I looked over to Jim quickly. He had put his cock away but his hand happened to be covering his clothed cock. Was he getting hard again? He was certainly watching the show.

The blowjob went on for probably three minutes before John placed a hand behind Matt’s head. “Here it comes, Matt. You’re gonna make me blow.”

In response Matt just greedily sucked, forced to give the best blowjob he could. John’s stomach tightened up and his balls retracted as he came. Based on his own convulsions I imagine he shot 5-6 ropes into Matt’s mouth. Unfortunately, since Matt doesn’t know how to deep throat he got to taste all of John’s spunk on his tongue before swallowing. Maybe I should teach him sometime, I joked to myself.

Then fear.

I just realized it meant it was about to be my turn and the embarrassment crept up on me. Sure, they hopefully wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow but how could I not still feel ashamed. I wasn’t some sort of exhibitionist.

When Matt finally let John’s cock out of his mouth John made no effort to redress. He just sat there, naked and still hard, looking over at me. “Your turn, buddy.”

Matt didn’t even have words at this point. He actually started to unbutton my jeans for me! They were still wet from my piss but cold and kind of gross to peel off. I decided, like John, to just remove them all-together with my underwear. I kept my shirt on but it felt much better to be without bottoms.

Matt looked at my dick, then up at me. My cock was pretty good. About 7 inches and average thickness? Maybe a hair thinner than average if I’m honest with myself but I like the shape. Straight as an arrow, unlike me.

While looking at me, Matt placed the head of my dick into his mouth. I was pleasantly surprised that Matt didn’t use any teeth. He still didn’t take much in but it really wasn’t a bad blowjob. Then again a warm mouth feels pretty good on your dick no matter what.

Perhaps due to the practice or maybe the hypnosis, Matt got a bit more into it. One hand rested on my thigh, massaging it lightly, while the other grasped me around my base. He started to jack me off a bit while he blew me. He probably just wanted me to finish quicker, actually.

Lucky for him, I did. Partly because it was a good blowjob but more-so fueled by the facts of what just transpired over the past 10 minutes I was ready to go. He maybe blew me for a minute before I shot. I’m not even going to feign embarrassment at that.

I may be relatively average on most things but I know that my dick is a bit above average length and I know I shoot well above-average. Typically I edge for a while before shooting which helps but even in my quick jack-off sessions I drench the toilet paper I use to clean up. Poor Matt had to swallow probably two tablespoons of my jiz and swallow he did. Even a bit leaked out of his mouth and when he unsheathed me from his lips he licked it up. Man was he committed.

I looked over at John after my climax and he was still naked, and still hard. Following his suit, I opted to stay naked mainly because the alternative was to put on wet, cold jeans. Instead I just scooted in further to the table to hide my own non-ceasing erection.

“So.. um,” John said.

“Please. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get this over with,” Matt said, back in his chair.

“I was just going to thank you, but fair enough. I guess it’s my turn then.”

John reached in and grabbed a slip. “Run to the end of the street naked or ask the neighbor for a cup of sugar in your underwear.” Another one of mine.

“Well,” John said, “that’s not so bad considering.”

“You’re damn right.” Matt added.

“I think I’d rather take my chances getting spotted running down the dark sidewalk then have to face your neighbors, Kyle. Especially since I don’t think my erection’s not going away anytime soon.”

John got up and walked over towards the front door, indeed being led by his cock right out in front of him. He had a dick like mine that pointed straight out. We all followed him to the door, me covering my own erection with my shirt, poorly. We knew he’d actually do it due to the hypnosis but general curiosity and rubbernecking meant we wanted to watch to see if he’d get spotted.

It was dark but my neighborhood has street lights so his pale body was still pretty visible. John made good time bounding down the 40 or so yards to the end of my block and back. I got to see his firm, squarish ass as he ran away and his bobbing dick and he ran back. I didn’t realize how hot it would be to see a guy naked out in public.

I couldn’t be sure no one saw him but at least no one came outside to yell at him. I had a breif thought of panic that if someone called the cops what would we do? Would we be able to stop the game to answer the door? What if we got arrested without finishing? Hopefully I wouldn’t find out.

When we were all seated I congratulated John on his ‘naked mile’ and he accepted the praise, laughing it off.

“I’m not sure why you’re so happy about all this,” Matt said, agitated.

“Well. I’m still pretty sure none of us will remember this so from my eyes nothing really matters. Plus I just got a great blowjob from this amazing cock sucker.”

Matt laughed a little, “Man, shut up.”

“Really Matt. I kind of wish you’d remember tonight. You’ve got a thing for sucking dicks.”

“You’re all gay!” Matt yelled. He couldn’t help but crack a smile though.

Jim added in, “alright, let’s please finish this. Kyle, your turn.”

“I know..”

I reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip. I saw the words before I read them out loud. I looked to Matt instantly remembering his last slip and he just grimaced. It was definitely his and was going to take tonight to a whole new level.

[nctxnation]

A Haunting in Neo City

➳ Pairing: Renjun x Reader 

➳ Genre: Romance | Buzzfeed Unsolved AU

➳ Word Count: 4.8k

➳ Warnings: Mild Language

➳ “Of all the problems and complications in my life, I had not expected love to be one of them.” ― Stacie Evans

You spun around in your chair, eyes tired of seeing the screen after finally finishing another article. The coffee mug next to you, empty, and your brain still sleep deprived and sluggish.

“You look like shit.”

You groaned, pressing send on the computer and turning to see your partner in crime, or more like partner in the occult and crime. 

“Hello, to you too, Renjun,” You flicked a paper clip at him and he rolled his eyes as it bounced off his chest. “I’m just tired. Yeri and the girls’ invited me out for dinner last night.”

“Fun,” He grinned, jumping onto your desk, knocking papers to the side. “All I did last night was see how many pens Jisung could stuff in his mouth, nine, by the way.”

“I’m guessing you have some news for me,” Your eyes zeroed in on the stack of papers in his hands. “Let me guess a cursed doll that terrorizes its owners?”

“Been there, done that, remember?” He smiled down at you, eyes brightening at the prospect of a new adventure. Your heart fluttered at the eagerness in his tone and the sparkle of his eyes, “We’re going out to Neo City to scope out the Evermore Woods, aka the Haunted Woods of Neo City. There’s supposedly haunted cabins and we might just end up possessed, you in?” 

Of course, you were in. You’d follow Renjun anywhere, he didn’t know that. You sure as hell didn’t want to submit to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness that would ensue after disclosing your romantic feelings to your coworker and closest friend. 

“Do I have a choice?” You grinned snatching the prints of research out of his grip. “We’re not gonna end up possessed, it has never happened.”

“You never know,” He was positively buzzing with excitement and it made you beam at how adorable he looked. “I have a feeling this one is gonna be a good episode though.”

“You always have the craziest shit up your sleeve,” You noted, glancing through rumored sightings of ghosts and wild stories that spurred from college students partying in the woods. “This is no exception. Sounds like a fun roadtrip to me.”

“Wait ‘til you read about the Ghost of Jieun they saw there, it’s some crazy shit I kid you not!” 

Renjun went on the full blown spiel, trying to persuade you that the woods were indeed haunted and it wasn’t just a hoax. He did this all the time, seeing as he was the one who fully believed in the paranormal between the two of you. You were the one who decidedly followed him throughout his supernatural investigations sprinkling witty commentary as you weren’t as sold in any stuff like that. 

You were often the cause of Renjun’s constant hysteria as you seldom kept quiet and continuously egged and taunted any ‘spirit’ that might be lurking. It got to the point Renjun would keep a small bottle of holy water in his car and occasionally spray you with it just to make sure you weren’t actually possessed. 

A long ass story about some ghost later, Renjun was summoned by Jeno who needed help as Haechan had gotten his hand stuck up some tubing they were filming a video with. You took that as your cue to refill your empty coffee cup, to regain some life and have at least a semblance of a normal, functioning human being. 

You however didn’t expect yourself to be cornered by Yeri and Yuta, who were looking far too devilish. Their evil smirking were making you want to add them to the list of possible people to perform an exorcism on, part of Renjun’s never ending list.

“So, you and Renjun looked pretty cosy there,” Yeri commented, subtly glancing at Yuta whose face only darkend with mischief. 

“We’re partners on this ongoing project,” You deadpanned, pouring in some burning hot liquid into your mug. The steaming zest of life. “He literally has no choice now, the loser is stuck with me. We ordained it with a blood oath which is pretty on brand for us, I guess.”

Yuta cackled heartily, “No wonder you guys’ are in love. You have the same sense of humor.”

“Thanks,” The words processed in your brain slower than Internet Explorer. “Wait--what? In love? Renjun and me?”

“Am I speaking in Japanese?” Yuta winked at you, sipping his coffee so smugly you wanted to slap him. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not like that,” You began to feel uneasy, their staring was predator-like. “How many times do I have to spell it out to you guys? Renjun and me, we’re friends and co-workers, nothing more. So, we share a room every once in a while and have inside jokes, you and Winwin do too.”

“Mhmm sure,” Yeri shrugged it off, “One day we’ll get you to admit your love for each other.”

“Not gonna happen,” You gritted out, taking your mug and walking away as fast as you could so they couldn’t see the intense blush coloring your features. 

“You better send a wedding invitation!” Yuta hollered as you rounded the corner and saw Renjun and Haechan laughing about his incident.

Your heart warmed as Renjun’s eyes met yours and you could have sworn you saw a fondness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. A small sliver of hope slithered its way into your heart, but you crushed it easily on account of it being your sleep deprived brain creating scenarios in your head that weren’t real.

Unbeknownst to you, Renjun sighed in aggravation. His little frown catching Haechan’s attention.

“You might as well tell Y/N you like them,” Haechan said as he watched your retreating figure. 

“It’s not that easy,” Renjun admitted, “Y/N and me are a team, we have our own series and its doing really good. I don’t want to ruin any of that knowing they don’t feel the same.”

“You sure about that?” Haechan snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun snapped, ready to put Haechan in headlock at any given offense. 

“I mean the supernatural isn’t the only thing your blind to,” Haechan patted his friend’s shoulder and left, leaving Renjun more confused than before.

Renjun thought it was easier to be cornered by ghosts, demons, serial killers, and bizarre monsters than having to ever come close to admitting his feelings for you. Your friendship ran deep and he didn’t want to derail the dynamic he worked so hard to upkeep. Plus, he didn’t think you’d like him, you got along swimmingly due to the fact that you two instantly clicked. You were his best friend, in his eyes, telling you he wanted something more was severely scarier than facing ghouls. 

The matters of the heart were always something terrifying.

Renjun placed his folder of information neatly on the table, eyes bright as he faced the camera. You sat next to him trying your best not to stare too much at him. You failed of course and you hoped your audience thought none of it. The comment section had a few comments littered about they way you looked at each other. The last thing you needed was your full blown heart eyes for Renjung to be the one thing your viewers discussed. 

“This week we will be exploring the haunted cabins in the Neo City Evermore Woods.”

Gosh, even the way his voice went into professional mode was starting to sound immensely attractive to you. 

“Do you think we'll see bears?” You asked, smirking at the frustrated sigh he let out. The edges of his lips turned upwards and that in itself was enough to have you glowing.

“The woods are crawling with ghosts and demons and you're worried about bears?” He chuckled, it was so like you. It was one of the many things he liked about you, even when it clashed with who he was. 

“I just don't want to take my chances.”

“But you'll be okay with being possessed?” His eyes bulged out of his face and you giggled at how comical he looked. 

“I'm being realistic. I guess we can trace a circle around us.”

“Of salt?”

“No, dirt like with a stick. For the bear, Renjun. Not the ghosts.”

“Isn't that from Spongebob?” He regarded you with sparkly eyes full of amusement. 

He loved the way you made the tension in his body release, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at your own stupid jokes. He was seriously gone and he hoped it didn’t get captured on camera. 

“Yeah that's where I get all my educational information from.”

He started wheezing and you joined in laughing at how silly you sounded. That was your role in this dynamic duo, he took everything regarding the supernatural seriously and you joked about it. You two were like yin and yang in a sense, you balanced each other out. 

“Well, I get all my educational information from reliable sources,” Renjun began addressing the timeline of the Disappearance of Jieun, to telling about her murder and the hauntings of the lake and cabins.

You added your own commentary, smiling when the camera turned off and Renjun excitedly high fived you. Yup, you were way too deep. 

��You were really funny out there,” He said, shuffling all his papers back into his folder, “Great stuff. I think I’m going to need an inhaler or something.”

“Nah, I think I sounded cringey,” You waved off his immediate protests, “I just wanted to take the time to say that you really put a lot of work into this series and it shows. You’re doing amazing, Renjun, and you deserve to know it.”

“Couldn’t do it without you?” He was too sweet, he was going to give you tooth decay.

“I don’t think--”

“No, of course you don’t see how great you are,” He interrupted you, placing a small warm hand on your shoulder. “But I see how great you are and I think you should know you make this series worth doing.”

“Renjun…”You swiped an imaginary tear off your cheek, ignoring the actual tears building up. “You really are the sweetest person in the office, don’t tell Jungwoo I said that.” 

The weight of his compliment and your lack of though, had you wrapping his frame around your arms. He froze, but then melted into your hands. 

“I’m serious you make the other half of Spooky Duo,” Renjun’s warmth blossomed a new kind of warmth in your heart, “I love you, Y/N...I mean, you’re the best partner in crime money can buy.”

“You threatened me to join you,” You sniffled, ignoring the fluttering feelings the eight letters he murmured brought you. “I had no choice in the matter, but you’re a great partner in crime...I love you too, Renjun.”

The love you felt was different than the love he felt that much you knew. No lack of sleep or caffeine rush was going to lull you into a false reality that you made up in your head. He didn’t feel the same. 

There was beat, in which you both stood, arms tangled and breathing rough, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment was broken when Yuta and Yeri stumbled into your work room claiming a group meeting. You scrambled away from each other, your eyes having totally not been hyperfixed on his lips. Renjun cleared his throat and fist bumped you claiming you as the best friend he could ask for, before he went on his merry way.

You sighed, not trying hard enough to hide you own dejection, but you followed behind him. This, unfortunately, only roused Yuta and Yeri even more as they began gossiping about the office, murmuring about how any day now the Spooky Duo were finally going to get together.

It was dusk, night barely stretching across the horizon when you reached the edge of the Evermore Woods. The forest was cold, dark, and dense. It was the picturesque vision of any horror movie setting, horrific and nightmarish. It would certainly allow for your mind to conjure up the scariest of things to crawl from out of the forest, had you been creative enough for it. From the look in Renjun’s wide eyes, you can tell he felt the eeriness set in too. 

The uneasiness reflected in Jeno and Jaemin’s eyes, your camera crew for tonight. Haechan and Yuta were already setting up things in the cabins. Renjun gulped and led the way down the path,  Jeno and Jaemin stayed a couple of steps behind you two, jostling through the greenery with their equipment. 

“Are you afraid of anything?” Renjun trekked through the foliage skillfully, the bright flashlight guiding him, although there was a subtle shake to his grip.

“Yeah, dying alone. Thank God I have you.” It was meant as a joke, but the weight of your words rang heavy and poignant in contrast to the eerie silence of the night.

Renjun deliberated for a moment, before following it up with a quip of his own, “I'll feed you to the demons before you even get to me.”

“That’s to say there’s even demons.” 

“Our viewers think you’re a demon.” His eyes were playful, reeling you in and effectively turning you into mush.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that.” You squashed the butterflies easily, falling into step behind him. 

“Do you think we’ll catch some real footage of something?”

“What if we see Bigfoot?”

“Wrong episode,” Renjun smiled, “Do these woods spook you out? What's that noise?”

“Do you know what a cricket is? Speaking of Bigfoot,” You poked his side and he flew up, sending you a glare, “Remember last time? Dude, you were practically crying.”

“I thought we were gonna die,” He defended, “How was I supposed to know Johnny was in a Bigfoot costume ready to scare the shit out of us.”

“That was the whole point,” You said as you finally reached the small lake where the Ghost of Jieun was rumored to be seen. “Are you down for a late night swim?” 

Renjun focused his thermal camera on his surroundings, frowning as he caught sight of nothing out of the ordinary. “Should we try the spirit box? Maybe we can speak to her.”

“Chick was murdered by a man, she probably has some deep issues,” You said, plopping down on the wet grass that covered the lip of the lake. “She probably won’t want to speak to you. Or maybe she’s hiding in the cabins back there.”

Jeno and Jaemin propped up all the filming equipment and readied the camera to start filming. They signaled Renjun to get started and he immediately launched into ‘YouTuber Renjun’. 

“We’re here at the Evermore Woods of Neo City. As you can see, we have Green Water Lake right behind me and some of the cabins that remained from the old campground. People say the Ghost of Jieun likes to linger around this general area, near the dock.”

“Wasn’t she killed by her lover?” You bounced a small pebble into the water and watched it ripple.

“Yeah, he dated her. He actually said she was too beautiful to be murdered and she agreed and used that as her tactic to live for one more minute.”

“I--what?”

“Yeah she was basically like ‘Please don't kill me, I’m too sexy for this disrespect.”

“Do you think he was like hahaha don't die your so sexy...oops sorry my knife fell into you.”

“We really shouldn't be joking about this here,” Renjun bit his lip, glancing around nervously.

“That sounds like a freaking skit from American Horror Story 1984! How am I supposed to take it seriously?”

“Because we're probably standing within the general vicinity of the crime.”

“Oh, shit.” You turned towards the cabins. “Should we go inside?”

“You want to go first or should I?” He asked, brushing off bits of grass of his pants and helping you up off the ground. 

“The non-believer always goes first,” You smiled, pinching his cheek, “You, my dear, are last because you’ll most likely freak out and that will be great footage.”

“Please don’t summon anymore demons from the pits of hell.” Renjun begged, although you caught subtle lilt of amusement in his voice. 

“Can’t make any promises,” You took the spirit box and thermal camera from him. “It’s not like anything exciting ever happens anyway.”

“Be careful.” 

The words were simple but the way he said them, dripping with concern. You almost turned around to see his face, but you knew that if you didn’t stop walking towards the cabin, you’d kiss him then and there. Your feelings were growing and him being the sweet, caring person he was, wasn’t helping your case. 

“Honestly, Renjun, is probably pissing his pants right now.” You told the camera Jeno was pointed at you, he agreed silently with a grin. “He’s always terrified, but is like an eager puppy wanting to catch anything.”

“Y/N probably raised hell in there, but what's new.” Renjun called out, opening the door to one of the cabins. 

“I did no such thing...just told the ghost to screw itself for not singing Fergalicious to see if it's real or not.”

“Fergalicious wasn't even a thing back then.”

“Fergie withstands the fabric of time, it's all an illusion, Renjun.” You walked up to him and he made room for Jeno and you to enter. “Maybe something will come out if there’s more of us. It could want variety in its selection.”

The door closed behind you and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of everyone in the room. There was a freakish vibe to them, more so than when you were alone. Jeno swept the camera around the room, catching every cobweb and dust particle within view. Jaemin focused his camera on the Renjun and you waiting for some action.

“Okay, if there’s anyone--Jeiun or any other ghost can you say something to let us know you’re hear.” Renjun flipped the spirit box on and the room was flooded with static noise and the occasional gurgle of something possibly otherworldly.

“My name is Y/N and this my buddy Renjun,” You licked your lips, feeling the chill of the night creep up on you like a frosty hand. “For his sake, can you say something? Is it like in Ghost Whisper, that you have unfinished business and that’s why don’t cross over?”

“Ren…”

“Oh, fuck,” Renjun began to blubber.

“Y/N….” The voice was barely audible above the static, but still managed to erupt a trail of goosebumps down your arm. It clearly sounded like the voice of a girl. “Ren...jun…”

“Oh, hell no,” Renjun looked on the brink of a breakdown, he clambered towards the exit but Jeno blocked it. “Jeno, what the hell!”

“I...am...Jieun…”

A shrill noise pierced the ear and the static of the spirit box became muffled right after. Suddenly, Jeno began to move frenetically, casting the camera aside on a wooden table. His eyes were twitching and his arms waved in the air as if he were possessed.

“Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice was hoarse, he gently shook Jeno.

His eyes widened as Jeno glared down at him and then smacked him on the side, knocking him straight down. Jaemin whimpered from the brute force of his hit and recoiled as Jeno wailed violently and incoherently.

“J-Jeno?” Renjun grabbed your arm and shoved you behind his body, shielding you from any harm Jeno may cause. “Hey, man, if this is about you not getting to pick the location, we can work this out?”

Jaemin got up and quickly grabbed a hold of Jeno whose eyes were rolling back, his whole body contorting under the hold of Jaemin. Renjun pushed you back, slowly stumbling into the small closet in the corner of the room.

“I think he’s possessed!” Jaemin shouted, pinning Jeno down and waving you two off. “Take cover somewhere, I don’t think I can hold him down for much longer.”

Renjun hesitated, not believing his eyes. You pulled him back and ducked into the small closet, the only thing you could hear was the violent rustle of the wind outside and Jeno’s screeching. 

“I shit you not if this is one of your pranks Y/N--”

“It’s n-not,” You stuttered, your whole body quivering like a feather in the breeze. “I swear to God Renjun, I don’t know what’s going on.”

Jaemin’s screaming ceased, there was silence, then a loud, thumping. Jeno’s fists hit the door in frantic, solid beats shaking the door with each hit. 

“He loved me,” Jeno’s voice sounded distanted, higher pitched, “He said he loved me. He said I was beautiful, yet he killed me.”

“Jieun?” Renjun almost sounded sympathetic and you wanted to cry at how sweet he can be, but this wasn’t the time. “Is that you in Jeno? Look, I’m sorry for--”

“You’re not sorry!” Jeno’s thundering voice was full of anguish, “You mock me with your love!”

“What?” You cleared your throat, finding it hard to sound anything remotely human when all you wanted was to sob. 

“Your love for each other,” Jeno as Jieun said, “I thought I had that with him. I was wrong. All I want to see is the love I never got.”

“Is she on crack?” You blurted unthinkingly causing Renjun to silence you with a frantic glare. “I mean, oh yeah, we have a very deep friendly affection.”

“Love,” possessed Jeno corrected, “Tell each other you love each other. You never know what life might throw at you. Enjoy love while you can.”

“Is that a threat Ghost Lady?” You didn’t know what to think of possessed Jeno’s words.

“I’ll let you out only if you speak your heart’s desire.”

“Heart’s desire?” Renjun laughed perturbed by the ghost’s insinuation. “This is crazy.”

“Confess your heart’s desire or face the consequences!” Jeno began banging on the door again and it looked like if he slammed his fist one more time, it would crumble under his sheer strength.

“Renjun do something!”

“Okay, okay, stop Jieun,” Shaking like a leaf, he turned to you ignoring the persistent badgering and grumbling from possessed Jeno. “Y/N, if we don’t make it out of this alive I’m sorry I dragged you into this place.”

The lack of heartfelt confessions only angered Jeno even more. 

“Hey, Samara chill for a second, okay?” You looked at Renjun, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You don’t force me to go anywhere with you, truth is, I’d follow you to any stupid place you want to go. It doesn’t matter if I think it’s haunted or not, for work or not, I’d still follow you anywhere.”

“What?” His breath knotted in his threat and as your breath fanned across his cheeks, he could have sworn he’d be the next ghost to inhabit that cabin. You were too close and his poor heart can only take so much in one night.

“I don’t know if its the fact we’re about to die,” You wanted to be swallowed by some random hole in the ground or have creepy ghost Jeno drag you away. “Or the fact I can’t see you since it’s dark as shit in here. Or even the fact that I’m starting to think this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up in my desk with you hovering over me with fresh coffee and that cheesy smile of yours that I lo--”

“Y/N.” The way he spoke your name so softly and lovingly, made your temperature rise the cold of the dinky closet no longer affected you. 

“Oh, right, sorry,” You rushed through your words, wanting this all to be over, “Truth is I like you, Renjun. I’ve liked you for a long time and that’s why I didn’t need a lot of convincing to join your team.”

“Is that true?” Samara-Jeno asked. 

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“I like you too, Y/N,” Renjun’s voice cracked and your heart swelled. “I’m not...I have no words to describe it. But I like you so much and I never had the courage to say it.”

You smiled, shrouded in the darkness he couldn’t see the pure happiness on your face. 

“I’ll leave this body now,” Samara-Jeno said, breaking the heart-eyes-through-the-dark spell you two were in. “You can rest easy, I’m gone…Hey, you guys what the hell happened?”

“Holy shit it worked!” The sheer exuberance of him confessing and you not being in danger had you squealing. “I didn’t think that would work!”

Renjun, however took this differently, “Yeah, you’re such a good actor. That confession...wow.”

“What?” You didn’t even have time to process the crushing sensation his words brought. “Oh, yeah, good one right?” You knew it was too good to be true.

“For God’s sake--”Jeno threw the door open and you clambered over to grip Renjun close to you.

Jaemin sighed exasperated as he readjusted the camera in his hands. You crawled out of the closet, disoriented and bewildered by everything going on. Haechan was handing Chenle money (“Told you they were dumb to see their love”) and bitterly glaring at you two. Yuta and Yeri looked like they wanted to bang their heads. 

“What the hell is this?” You shrieked as Renjun gaped at his coworkers. 

“This was a set up!” Jeno explained, outraged by the sheer dumbassery you two possessed. “You guys literally confessed to each other like we wanted! Then straight up made it sound like it was all acting...what the heck!”

“You guys are really something else,” Yuta shook his head. “Love is blind and makes you oblivious, but you two are just dumbassess.”

“Wait, so you like me?” Renjun’s eyes widened at your accusation.

“You like me too?” 

“Yeah, I actually wasn’t lying,” You felt sheepish at all the pairs of eyes glued on you. “I do like you, Renjun...enough to go ghost hunting even though I don’t believe in that.”

“I like you too,” He cupped your cheek in his hands, ignoring the camera Jaemin pointed right at you. “You’re my partner in crime and I kinda wanna have you around to hunt more ghosts.”

“That’s an offer I can’t resist,” You grinned, kissing him gently on the cheek. “However, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner after, all this ghost hunting makes me hungry.”

“Deal.” The same fondness in his eyes you thought you imagined before, returned and your eyes reflected that fondness. “Now, what the hell were you guys thinking this was a great location and we could have had awesome footage!”

You spent the rest of the night scouring the woods for ghosts, although you didn’t find any. Renjun and you, trailed behind everyone, hand and hand and beaming brighter than the moon above. 

“What do you think our viewers are gonna make our ship name be?”

“I hope it’s not something silly,” You gripped his fingers tightly, yanking him closer to you. “There’s something I’ve really been wanting to do, but doing it in front of everyone and in haunted cabin, just didn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” His fingers caressed your cheek, letting them trail down as he placed his hand on your arm. He marveled at the way you shivered under his touch. He was getting too cocky and needed to be stepped down a notch.

You pecked his lips quickly, the only witness to your kiss was the moon and stars. He soften under your touch, holding you tighter. You pulled away all too quick for his taste and laughed as you made your way towards the cars and the group.

“That’s what you get for being a tease!”

He smiled and followed you spraying holy water from his spray can at your retreating figure.

“You really are a demon!” He joked as he caught up to you and took your hand in his again.

“Another one to add to the list of completed missions,” You grinned shuffling into the van. “Up for another adventure?”

“With you, yes,” He would never stop making your heart flutter.

“I swear to God if you two are going to be this cheesy, I am going to regret setting this up in the first place.”

Yuta was only kidding, considering he was the biggest shipper. The next day at the office the video of you two confessing to each other was seen by everyone. For once, you were glad to have been terrorized by an alleged ghost. You watched as Renjun walked over to you, glowing, and a folder in his hand. Yeah, you’d definitely followed this dork through any “haunted” place or anywhere for that matter. 

Paranormal Neotivity masterlist 

[theshiteraturepodcast]

Newbies' Day

As soon as she got home, she called the number. The line was busy. “The communicator will call you back when he is done with his current phone call,” the voice said. She waited. Just then, her phone rang, and she picked it up. “Hello, I wanted to ask about newbie day.” She says. “Hey Moira, right? You’re attending? Great! Come to the pavilion, Friday, 5pm or later.” The voice said.

Moira’s Mouth was hanging open like a fish, this was the same guy that had spoken to her in the library. “Sure.” She said, recovering from the shock, and giving him all the details.

“Thank you. I’ll fill the form for you, and I’ll see you on friday!” He said, and the telltale click of the phone being hung up reached her ears. Putting the phone back on the table, she tied up her hair into a messy ponytail and went about unpacking. She left her books in the suitcase, though. She didn’t want them to take them out just yet.

For her New Day outfit she chose her purple hoodie, a blue t-shirt inside, and pink trousers, which looked gorgeous. She walked to the place where the event was taking place, and explored the place, looking at both the veterans, and the newbie. She was going to enjoy this place. She stood in front of the pavilion, ready to begin this new time in her life, the pink banner caught her eye. She hurried to the table, where two people were talking. When they saw her approaching, they fell silent, and the girl raised her hand, giving Moira a wave.

“Hello, I’m Star, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you. I’m loving this place. I was- I was just here to enquire about the bakery. I mean, I can bake and I-”

The boy held up a hand, “The interview is on tuesday. Take a pamphlet. And a cupcake.” He said, handing her a pamphlet and a cupcake. Wandering around, she saw the library boy- Alistair- happily chatting with another boy, who was standing at the table that read “National Archives” The boy wore a national Archives T-shirt.

Moira went closer, and snatches of the conversation wafted up to her.

She would have loved to work at the archives, but the bakery was more interesting to her. Alistair waved his hands about, and turned around.

“Oh hey, Moira!” He said.

“You work at the help centre, right?” She asked. He wasn’t at the familiar blue and orange counter, and he was wearing a pastel red plaid shirt, and looked weirdly at ease while talking to the other guy. The other guy was a sight though. He was wearing an oversized maroon national archives t-shirt and baggy trousers. His hair was hidden by a light brown beanie too, though a curly strand stuck out. He was wearing geeky glasses, and was in a relaxed position as he talked to Alistair.

“Well I’m next in line, please submit something for the anthology at least then! Please? I mean, you’ve- you’ve uh- you’ve seen interesting stuff, please write about it.”

“No. I mean, It’s not in my genre to write about an immortal business major with major monk energy whose sense of humour is concerningly nihilistic. That guy is not story material, no matter what you think!” Alistair said hotly.

“You’ve been shooting poems like spider-man's web shooters, and you do prose so well! Please? Just once? This anthology project could make or break me becoming the head archive keeper.”

“Why does your promotion have to depend on me?”

“I know, it sucks. But please? Will you do it for me?”

“I’ll try. Promise.” Al said reassuringly.

Moira wandered over to the help centre desk. Talking to people, on the phone, whether it was telling them their way to the nearest coffee shop, or talking them down from an anxiety attack was not her idea of a job, but if it was Alistair’s, she’d roll with it.

She checked out the desk, picked up a pamphlet. She also picked up one for the archive. After Alistair had finished talking to the guy, of course. She wasn’t about to interrupt a conversation. Or face Alistair. Not that she didn’t want to, just that she was sure that she would do something stupid when she saw his face. Like ask him why he was off work. Or something. She was sure he had a good reason.

By the end of the evening, she had a good stack of papers, and regretted not bringing a bag. Ah, well, first time for everything. She unlocked the door to her home, and threw the papers down on the bed. She took off her shoes, changed her clothes, and sat down on the bed, looking at all of them. The first one(well, the last one she collected, but the first one in the pile) was for the archive. It sounded like a nice place, if she was being honest. But it looked like more of a place where she’d like to just sit and read what people had written, rather than, you know, work there. She set it aside, remembering to jot the address and phone number down later. She was curious about the immortal business major Alistair was talking about. Might see the June anthology. Then decide what to do. The next one was the help centre. It was not her idea of a perfect job, but if the bakery job didn’t work out, she’d have to do it. Besides, the help centre was mostly understaffed at this point. She went through a few others, and finally saw the glossy pink and brown one of the bakery. She loved it. Picking up her phone, she scheduled the interview. Game, set and match.

The next day, as she walked out with her own apron, she punched the air in triumph. She’d gotten her dream job. Well her dream had changed constantly, but working here, even if she hadn't properly started working, felt right.

[rouletterook]

Pancake Girl - Colson Baker

Summary - Each person is born with the age their soulmate is when they meet. The reader is at a diner when the number on their wrist lights up when a group of rowdy guys walk in.

29. Before the age of 16, it was nothing but a number. 27, 28, 29, 30. After your 16 birthday, that was the number that drove your life. Everyone had a number that corresponded with the age that their soulmate is when they meet. It was easy to tell if the person was your meant to be because when the numbers are put together they’ll glow a pretty color, at least that’s what your mother had been going on about since you got your number. 

“Hey, what can I get going for you dear?” Shannon asked coming over to your booth. Her hair was in its usual low bun with a few strands shaping her never aging face.

“Hey, can I have pancakes please and some orange juice?” you requested not even having to think twice about it. You didn't have anything menu on the table only the dim lights reflecting off of the fading turquoise table

She gave a soft, sad smile with a nod and rubbed your back as she went back to the kitchen. You had come here enough at this hour to where she knew what was happening without you saying much. It isn't common for someone to order a bigger breakfast like that at 4 in the morning. Your night shift was rather rough with rude people at the bar, demanding drinks when they should have stopped many ago, and being downright nasty to you and the other female bartenders. It was routine on nights like these to get a meal that reminded you of happier times to take your mind off of the horrors at work.

The local diner was the place to be at this hour. The lights were dimmer than most of the other restaurants in the area, Sal, the cook early in the morning and the owner, usually had soft jazz or classical music but sometimes he would switch it up and play soft indie music. The diner usually smelled like coffee but not in an overbearing way, like the smell you’d endure on a sunny Sunday morning. You always occupied the 4th booth from the door. The seat was worn enough to where it wasn't hard but you couldn’t feel the bench framing either. The booth placement allowed you control over the baby blue curtains and a nice view of the photograph filled wall and the interactive mural that a local student painted for Salvador and his wife Danae. 

“Y/N! Your here awfully early today,” Sal smiled following Sahnnon with your plate of pancakes. They set down your food and Sal took a seat on the bench across from you.

“Yeah,” you sighed. Sal always noticed when you would drop in and he always made an effort to say hello. He always said that it was the least he could do to make his guests feel loved and welcome.

“What’s going on?” He asked setting you up with some napkins as you prepared your pancakes with the goods, butter and syrup.

“Work.” It only took the one word for him to understand the night you've had. Sal and his wife constantly offered you a position at the diner paying the same as you were already making but he promised a better working environment. You always said maybe but never furthered it but you knew he understood your position. You liked having the diner as only a diner and not a workplace. It would ruin the vibes.That’s one of the best things about him, you never had to say much for him to understand what you meant. He knew your life just as much as you knew his. His family moved to your small town when he was 5 from the Dominican Republic. In his early years, he worked construction with his father but he decided to abandon that and move into the culinary field. Thank God he did because you don't know where you would go if it wasn't for his diner. He has been married for over 30 years to Danae and together they’ve adopted 4 children and now have 5 grandchildren. They have always said that you are one of their kids and they truly treat you like family. He had the number 23 on his wrist while Danae had the number 31.

“I had a feeling I was making patch me up pancakes so I added a few berries in there,” he winked and laugh as you shoveled the fluffy food into your mouth. 

“I really do appreciate it,” you grinned taking a sip of your juice. The citrus was a nice contrast from the sweet breakfast food you loaded with syrup. “How is everyone?”

“Really good,” he smiled playing with his gold wedding ring. “Dario and his wife are expecting another baby and Savannah is submitting college applications,” he announced to you.

“Oh, that’s great! Tell Dar and Halle congrats and Sav good luck,” you beamed. You remember when Dario was just announcing that he and his wife were expecting their first baby, Eduardo, and when Savannah was just entering middle school. “Kendall and Uriah are doing fine?”

“Yep and I will pass along the message. Those boys never have much going on in their lives,” he laughed. As you both spoke, the door chimed signaling someone coming in. You turned to see a group of guys who were rather rowdy for such a small, quiet diner.

“Oh boy,” you whispered to Sal causing you both to chuckle.

“I better go back to the kitchen,” he sighed watching the boys laugh and mess around with each other. “Let us know if you need anything, sweets.”

And with that, he was off to the group of boys. You heard Sal introduce himself and welcome them to his humble establishment. Before you have another bit of your food, you felt the booth behind you vibrate from people moving into. Of course out of an entirely empty diner, the booth behind you was their choice of placement. You figured it could have been worse, they could’ve asked to join you in your booth. You pulled out your phone from under your leg and your hoodie sleeves over your hand. A few minutes passed, you finished your pancakes and were left sipping on your juice and scrolling through your phone.

“Psst,” one of them whispered followed by a few quiet giggles. You didn't turn around in hopes they were messing among themselves. 

“Excuse me ma’am,” you heard from the booth again this time rather loudly in a corny mid-western accent. You forced yourself to turn around to be met with 4 sets of eyes. You noticed the air around smelled less like coffee and a bit more like marijuana and alcohol, nothing you weren't accustomed to. You raised your eyebrows at the men who suddenly seemed to sober up as one of them suddenly refused to look your way. 

“What can I do for you guys?” you smiled, taking note of the awkward energy from the booth.

“We were wondering if you knew anything off the menu that was good,” one of them said, setting his menu on the table. His hair was dark and he had facial hair. He had a dark hoodie on but you could still tell he had a lanky build similar to the blonde that was refusing to look your way. 

“It really depends on what your in the mood for. The pancakes are really good especially for a bad night. Sal makes the best omelets and I recommend getting the hash browns and asking Shannon to make a note to make them crispy. You won't get hash browns like these anywhere else so,” you suggested. 

“Awesome, thanks a lot,” the other bearded one said kindly. His hair was longer than the others in his group and his features screamed kindness. You have a small nod and smile before turning back to your booth. You finished up your orange juice and stacked up your plates. You slid out of the booth, past Shannon who was taking out her pad of paper for orders, and walked your plates up the the bar where Sal was waiting for the order to come in. 

“What do you think they are gonna order?” he asked setting your plates aside and gestured to Shannon at the booth.

“Hopefully you're hash browns or pancakes because they are to die for,” you complimented. 

“I perfected them my kids,” he winked and smiled with a nod to say thank you. You knew he was talking about you since it was one of the only things you ordered when you came in.

“One five pancake order and four cheesy omelettes,” Shannon whispered passing him the ticket. Sal took the ticket leaving you and her at the breakfast bar. 

“How much?” you asked reaching for your wallet to pay for your breakfast.

“How many times do I have to tell you on the house?” Sal called from the kitchen listening in.

“Sorry,” you winked at Shannon knowing you'll ask the same thing on your next visit. It was a running joke with yourself. You slid Shannon over a $20. “Keep the change.”

“You're too sweet baby,” she smiled grabbing your wrist and giving it a squeeze. The placement of her hand pushed up the sleeve of your hoodie enough to reveal the 29 printed on your wrist. 

“What time do you get off?” you asked slipping into a bar stool. 

“When these gents leave,” she sighed. “What’s your number again baby?” She always checked your wrist, more than you ever did. She had the number 56 printed on her wrist which has yet to glow for her. 

“29,” you said mindlessly flipping your arm to show her as you read the advertising card..

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed jumping back with a grin. You looked to your wrist and it had a tightly lit up number 29. Your other hand immediately covered the glow and your eyes went wide. Shannon was trying her best to stay composed and not draw attention to the two of you but you knew it was a failed mission from the beginning. “It's one of those boys,” she leaned in and whispered to you.

“Which one?” you said lowly. Your mind was racing faster than a NASCAR racer in first place. Had he noticed his number? Was his even glowing? What kind of person is he?

“My money is on the blondie in the corner,” she smirked as Sal slid their orders on the ledge to be served. “He was a bit stiff toward you,” she added. She wasn't wrong. She grabbed their plates two in each arm leaving only the pancakes left. 

“I’ll grab them,” you said hopping over the bar to help her. You figured if you found an excuse to go over there you could sneak a peek at their numbers. You followed closely behind Shannon with the plate.

“Alright youngins,” she smiled as she slid omelette plates off her thin arms. A plate in front of each of the boys. She slid out of the way for you to set down the pancake plate.

“And the best part of your order,” you smiled, turning on your bartender tone. You set the plate of cakes in the center of the table and watched their eyes follow your arms. You noticed all of them had both arms visible except the blonde in the corner. You did get a chance to notice his baby blue eyes and nose piercing since you hadn't really took note of his face like you did the others. His arms were also heavily covered in tattoos and you couldn't imagine what his clothes were hiding.

You and Shannon made your way back to Sal who was leaning on the breakfast bar again. Shannon bounced over to him and whispered the news excitedly to him. You saw his eyes grow wide in shock and a grin spread under his thick mustache.

“How exciting,” he smiled at you. You felt a pink hue rise to your cheeks as you nodded lightly. “Which one?”

“We think it's blondie,” Shannon gestured back to the table as she slid onto a stool next to you. “Is he cute?”

“Yeah, his eyes are beautiful,” you smiled. The more you thought about what you saw the less nervous you were. It was weird. You knew nothing about him other than a few physical attributes and his friends were loud sometimes.

Shannon moved to the back with Sal to help him clean up before the big breakfast rush in a few hours. You stayed at the breakfast bar and scrolled through your phone and sipped on another orange juice Sal had slid your way. You would’ve left when you finished but now that your number was glowing you didn't want to, not yet. You were going to stay as long as they were here in hopes one of you had a set of something. 

“Oh, they are done,” Shannon said peeking her head out to see empty plates and them laughing and joking around just as they had come in. She hurried over to gather their plates and set the bill on the table so she could go home. You noticed when she went over they noise died down to an uncomfortable silence. Shannon hurried to the back to drop off the dishes to be washed without a word.

“What’s up?” a male voice said slipping into the stool Shannon was once in. You looked over to be met with baby blue eyes.

“Hey,” you tried to casually smile as if you didn't know both your wrists were illuminating a pale white glow.

“Colson,” he introduced himself, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you responded shaking his hand. You finally saw the glow on his wrist, a lit up 27. “Nice glow you got.”

“Oh, this?” he played along looking at it as if it were nothing. “I like it.”

“Oh, yeah? Mine is cooler if you ask me,” you teased with a small nudge. He let out a nervous laugh he was probably holding in since he left the booth. 

“Oh my God,” he shouted and started laughing more. “We are acting like middle schoolers,” he said looking over at you hoping you were not scared of his outburst.

“Hey, it's not everyday you meet your soulmate,” you smirked sipping your juice.

“I guess,” he hummed with a goofy grin on his lips.

“Ask her out,” the corny voice from earlier instructed from the booth.

“Rook,” Colson scolded without looking back. 

“Hi Rook,” you waved back to the smaller one of the group who laughed and waved back.

“Hi pancake girl,” he laughed leaning on the lanky one to his side.

“Oh no! Am I really pancake girl?” you laughed turning to Colson who was holding in a laugh himself.

“Yeah, but they are really good and you seem sweet so it fits,” he admitted turning to you. Just as he was about to say something he was interrupted by kind features.

“Better than OJ girl,” he said causing the small guy to burst out laughing again.

“Well yeah,” you laughed along with them.

“So, pancake girl, are you free to go to a concert this Saturday?” Colson asked rather boldly as if something finally clicked in him.

“Oh, for sure. Who is playing?” you asked. You weren't aware there was one this weekend let alone who was performing.

“Whatever you're nickname is for me,” he responded.

“Blondie?” You weren't catching his drift.

“Oh nice, pancake girl and blondie,” he chuckled rolling his eyes back followed by snickers from the booth.

“Hu- OH,” you yelled as you realized what he was saying.

“Yup,” he nodded. “Machine Gun Kelly.”

“Ooo, a rockstar,” you cooed grabbing his arm to confirm his was in fact glowing. It felt as though time had paused and it was only the two of you in the world. 

“I'm glad you're 27 and here and everything ,” he smiled watching you trace his number.

“Yeah? How come? 26, 27, 28,” you counted as if it were any old number.

“You’ll see,” he hummed as he admired the glow.

[elevenharringtons]

Boyfriend

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (and a tiny bit of Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Summary: You’ve been Steve’s best friend ever since you could remember. The two of you have never defined your relationship with each other, but there’s obviously something there. A few drunken mistakes bring everything to a head. 

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, angst, some fluff 

Word Count: 6.8k  (I had a lot to say ok???)

This literally took three months to write because I kept leaving it and coming back to it, not sure where it was going to take me. Some of it in the middle might seem ya-ya’d through because of this fact. HOWEVER, I’m glad of where it ended up, and I feel like if I wrote any more on it, it would turn into a full out novel. It’s based loosely off “Boyfriend” by Ariana Grande + Social House, so you’ll see some lyrics in there, but as a guide. Also, it’s set in between S2 and S3. 

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, here’s Boyfriend, aka my first writing endeavor in the Stranger Things fandom. (also, also, requests are open!) 

I don’t wanna be too much And you don’t seem to give a fuck

It had been months since you actually went out, let alone went out and partied. College applications, scholarship essays, and staying on top of your schoolwork kept you extremely busy. Not to mention you were one-half of a babysitting team that you and your best friend, Steve Harrington, were thrust into the night Will Byers had been taken over by the Mind Flayer. Needless to say, you had your hands full and you were ready to let it all go. 

It was the Friday before Spring Break and you had finished your last application out to your “reach school”. It was an application that required two essays, three recommendation letters, and a statement of purpose. You had stayed up the night before perfecting it. Steve threw rocks at your window at midnight (a common occurrence, usually when he was bored), to which you had clumsily accepted, loudly throwing the window open and launching yourself back onto your bed as Steve crept into your room. 

“Subtle much?” “Oh, shut up,” you mumble to yourself. He sits on the edge of your bed, pulling out cans of Coke, bags of your favorite candy, and a box of Number 2 Pencils from his jacket pockets. “Thought you might need a few pick-me-ups,” he smiles, and, as if right on cue, your pencil lead breaks. Steve scrambles to open the box of new pencils to hand you one while the rest clatter to the floor. “Now who’s the subtle one?” You smirk, accepting the new pencil before burrowing your face back into your notebook. Steve looks at all of the paper scattering your bed, taking the actual application into his hands and studying it intently. “Harvard, huh?” “Before you go making fun of me, it’s my reach school.” “I wasn’t going to make fun of you! With the amount of studying you do, you could get into any school you wanted to,” Steve said. “Was that a compliment, Harrington?” You ask, eyes finally taking in the brown-haired boy at the end of your bed. “Uh, no, why would it be?” He fumbled over his words, shaking his head to the point where you thought it might roll across the floor. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink before he started thumbing through your application again with furrowed brows, occasionally tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment, before quickly sobering up and going back to your essay. There was no denying that there was something between you and Steve. You had been friends since kindergarten, when his family had moved onto your street. You were there for every playground injury, countless fights with his parents, numerous hookups that turned to feelings that turned to nothing but Steve crying on your shoulder, and, of course, Nancy Wheeler. You two knew everything there was to know about each other and yet kept your distance. Accidental flirting caused you both to be a bumbling mess, trying to compile yourselves before awkwardly acknowledging that it happened and going your separate ways. An endless cycle of frustration on your end. And his end? You weren’t sure. You knew you could catch him off guard at any given moment, but, he never gave off any other vibe than being your best friend. You carefully tore the finished essay out of your notebook and placed it next to your recommendation letters. Steve reached for the essay, only to be slapped away. 

“Uh-uh. Too personal,” you said, taking a box of Nerds from the pile of candy at the foot of your bed. Steve feigned hurt. 

“Too personal? This coming from Y/N, AKA, the only person I tell everything to? I’m shocked, I thought we were better than that.”

“You know how I feel about other people reading my work,” you said. You were known to leave the room the second you heard a teacher read an excerpt from your work as an example in class. 

 “I thought I was supposed to proofread your essays before you sealed the envelope,” Steve looked at you with pleading puppy dog eyes. Your heart fluttered again, but you swallowed your pride. 

“You’re here for moral support, dingus,” you rustle his hair with one hand, causing him to frantically put it back together again.

“Just the guy who brings the snacks.”

“Hey, you’re the one who agreed to it,” you pour a handful of Nerds into your mouth, grabbing all of the paper strewn across the bed and putting it into some kind of order. Steve watched as you mouthed the words on paper to yourself. You could feel his eyes on you, and after a while, began to feel your cheeks heat up.

 “Stop reading my lips, Harrington.”

“I wasn’t!” He flopped onto his back, watching the ceiling fan create slow circles around and around. “Have you ever thought about not leaving Hawkins?”

 “I mean, yeah, but I’ve lived here my whole life. Don’t you want to see what else is out there?” Truth be told, you were terrified of leaving Hawkins. Hawkins was your entire life and leaving meant you would have to leave Steve behind too. He was never one for education, promising you that he would take a couple of community college classes to earn his AA just to prove to his parents that he wasn’t a “failure”, but you? You were almost expected to be the one to make it big; get accepted into a school with a full ride and have a successful life after. You weren’t sure if that was the life you truly wanted. Submitting college applications wouldn’t hurt, though, right?

“Hawkins is changing though. More opportunities. Rumor has it, there’s a new mall opening up soon,” Steve elbowed your leg, looking up at you with childlike wonder in his eyes. You shook your head, making pencil marks in places you wanted changes in your application. His face dropped when he realized you weren’t listening to his untold ‘stay in Hawkins and get a job with me' story. “I’m just saying.”

 “Are you staying here tonight?” You ask, changing the subject completely so you could avoid any anxiety over the potential of leaving Steve in Hawkins for four years. “I left an extra pillow and blanket on my chair, just in case.” “I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you mention it...” “You can go to sleep, I’m just perfecting anyway,” you cracked a smile, noticing his droopy brown eyes drifting between your stack of papers and the bedding in the corner of your room. Steve got up, patted you on the head, and made his bed on the floor next to you. “Don’t work too hard, Y/L/N.” “Don’t count on it.”

And I might not be the one for you But you ain’t allowed to have no boo

You awoke that morning to a blaring alarm, papers on your face, and Steve’s leftover blanket and pillow neatly folded on your floor with a note on top.  

“Don’t worry about breakfast. I’ll have it at your locker when you get to school. See you then.” Breakfast was a common occurrence between you and Steve. It was mostly coffee and donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts, but it was breakfast. You threw your hair into a loose ponytail and slipped into a t-shirt dress before grabbing all of your application envelopes, stuffing them into your backpack, and heading out the door. The bike ride to school allowed you to clear your mind of everything that had happened the night before. The college applications were done and soon to be in the hands of every college you had applied to. It was up to them now, and you were at the mercy of the school board. Dustin was adding his bike to the rack as you pulled into the school parking lot. “Y/N! Aren’t you usually, like, 30 minutes early?” “And aren’t you usually riding to school with the party? Where’s everyone else?”    “Already here. I had to finish a project for class this morning,” Dustin said, pulling out a smushed diorama of the solar system from his duffle bag. “Solar system, huh?” You ask, studying the sad structure. “I didn’t have enough glue, okay? Duct tape fixes everything, I’ve heard,” He replies defensively. You raise your arms in response. “You better get to class. Don’t want anyone to think you’ve been stolen away by the demodogs again, now, do we?” You joke. Demodogs were no joke, though. That was the night you actually thought you might die if it weren’t for Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes. “You want me to get to class? Your boyfriend is the one who’s been moping around with a cup of coffee all morning,” and with that, Dustin was running into the middle school as the 5 minute bell rang. You could feel your cheeks heating up and the world closing in around you. ‘Boyfriend’? “You’re such a little shit!” You yell after him. He raises his middle finger to you with his free hand, the mobile of Saturn almost flying off the diorama as he ran. Huffing, you turn to go to the high school when you run into a wall of muscle, drops of hot coffee spilling onto your arm. “Shit! Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Steve was frantically mopping up the coffee droplets from your arm. “It’s not burning, is it?” “Steve, Steve, calm down! It’s okay, I barely felt it,” you say, watching as the boy slowed his movements. He held out the coffee, which you graciously accepted. “I didn’t forget about the donuts; they’re in my locker. I was walking to class and saw you pulling into school so I figured I’d meet you halfway. Was that Du-“ “Yeah, he was just, um, yeah…We should get to class,” you cut him off before anything else could be said about the little curly-headed boy who insisted Steve was your boyfriend. Steve stood frozen for a minute before reluctantly following you into the high school building. You could hear the small squeaks from his Nikes as he hustled to keep pace with you. “You know, Tina is having a kickoff to Spring Break party tonight,” he says once he is side by side with you. “I didn’t know you knew Tina?” “I mean, old friends, I guess? Anyway, since you’re done with your applications, I was thinking maybe you’d want to let loose a bit.” You stop in your tracks, turning to face Steve. “Are you asking me on a date, Harrington?” “No,” he says matter of factly, “I’m asking if you want to go to a party and forget about college acceptances for a night. I’ll pick you up, though!” You don’t know why your stomach drops when he doesn’t hesitate on not calling this a date. The warning bell sounded more like a foghorn as it blared across campus. You shake yourself out of a trance. “Oh, yeah…great. We should get to class.”

I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten it’s crazy I can’t have what I want but neither can you…

Seven dresses, three pairs of pants, four tops, and three jackets are strewn across your bedroom floor. You’re standing, hands on your hips, in a bra and denim mini skirt, surveying the hurricane of clothes in front of you. It was just a stupid party, what did you care? It’s not like you’d ever been to one before, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you felt like you needed to stand out. It was the last time you might be seeing all of these faces in the crowd before going off to college. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was Steve. The bike ride from school today made you sit and think about everything that you and Steve had been through together. It made you finally realize that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him. In your head, it made sense to dress to the nines and go out of your comfort zone for a night. Maybe you wouldn’t be viewed as the stuck up prude that studies in her room every night. You look in your closet for the last time before grabbing a neon pink tank that was a previous reject from your floor and putting it on. The outfit was simple but bolder than your usual wardrobe. A car horn blares outside, and you know it’s Steve waiting for you. In a panic, you pick up a cropped leather jacket from the mess on your floor and rush out the door. It’s not that you were afraid of immodesty. The jacket was more like your protective shield of sorts; the kind of shield that keeps your good girl reputation intact in case the colleges you applied to were watching. It was 1985, anything could happen. Steve was standing outside of his car as you lightly jog up to him. He was wearing his usual uniform of a t-shirt, jacket, and jeans that were a bit tight, but in all the right places. You catch his eyes scanning your body before snapping back up to meet your stare. “Ready?” You ask, stifling a chuckle as you watch him scramble for words. “Uh, yeah…ready.”    The ride to Tina’s was silent at first, save for the music softly playing from the radio. Steve kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. You had your legs crossed, right hand tapping along to the beat of the music on the windowsill. Every once in a while, you would feel Steve’s glance on you, but it would quickly fade once you even slightly turned your head in his direction. The silence was killing you, so you spoke up first. “You know Dustin had a project for school today?” “Oh, yeah? What did he bring? Another species that he “discovered”?” Sarcasm dripped from Steve’s speech. “No,” you laughed. “Poor thing brought a very smushed version of the Solar System. Did he tell you about it?” “I couldn’t help him there,” Steve said. “Science isn’t my thing, you know that.” “Did you not hear me say that it was smushed? You could’ve driven him to school!” “Then I couldn’t have gotten you breakfast!” “I would’ve lived! He’s your responsibility in some way now, right?” You counter.    “You wouldn’t have lived. I know you didn’t sleep last night. It’s a wonder that you’re even awake right now,” Steve responds. “I slept last night!” You said defensively. Truth is, you didn’t fall asleep until at least an hour before you had to get ready, and you definitely heard Steve crawl back out of the window. “Bullshit, Y/N. I could see you working until the last minute. There’s no way you got a decent amount of sleep.” “You saw me working?” You counter again. “Light sleeper,” Steve is on the defense now. You smile and shake your head as he pulls up to Tina’s place. Cars are littered across the lawn. Some partygoers lean up against porch railings, nursing beer bottles and red cups filled with God knows what. You notice Nancy Wheeler with Jonathan Byers, which was bewildering to you since Jonathan was never much of a partier. At least Nancy would be occupied for the night, you thought to yourself, not that Steve would even try anything anyway with the way things ended. Steve opened the door for you, interrupting your thoughts. Tina drunkenly stumbles out onto the lawn dragging several other people with her. They all seemed overly enthusiastic to meet you. Then again, maybe it was just the alcohol. “Harrington! You made it!” “Who’s the girl?” “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” You feel your cheeks start to flush red. “Oh, no, she isn’t…” Steve trails off. “We’re just friends,” you finish his sentence, cheeks going back to their normal shade. It wasn’t a date. Regardless of the comment, Steve’s hand grazes your lower back as he leads you toward the house, making chills ripple down your arms. “Mhmm, we’ll see. Can I get you a drink…ummm…?” Tina struggles to find your name even though you were pretty sure this was the first time you had ever met her. “Y/N,” you respond. “Y/N! Right! Come with me, we’ll get you set up!” Before you know it, Tina is pouring you a plastic cup filled with some kind of sangria. Or maybe a rum and vodka mix? You weren’t sure, but man, was it strong. You watch as a group of boys lead Steve to the beer kegs, trying to egg him on to take back the title of “King” from Billy Hargrove. Steve is vehemently denying wanting to get back on the “King Steve” train, but you watch as two boys lift him up and upside down onto a keg. You catch his glance before he drinks. A wink from him. A smile from you. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you down your drink to rid the feeling. You slide your leather jacket off and place it on the counter, not feeling the need to hide yourself. You’re here to let loose, right?

You ain’t my boyfriend, and I ain’t your girlfriend But you don’t want me to see nobody else And I don’t want you to see nobody

A few hours pass, and you’ve made your way through four (maybe five?) drinks. You’ve learned Tina’s entire life story, met a new group of girls who also applied to Harvard, and made friends with a girl who went to the same elementary school as you. One person you were missing from the night was Steve. You hadn’t seen him since the keg stands, and there were at least three of them. It was like he was a celebrity, the way they were all standing around the kegs chanting his name. It made you laugh, though. If they only knew how much of a complete softie he was instead of this jock facade that he always seemed to put on in social situations. There is a group dancing in the middle of the room. You spy Tina and a mystery boy, Nancy and Jonathan, the girls that you had met earlier, Steve and…you squint your eyes as if it would help you to see across the room. You can’t tell if they’re dancing or kissing due to Steve’s back being turned to you. Your vision is blurry as you stumble across the floor to get a better look. The girl has curly red hair cascading down her back and wearing the tiniest black dress that would make even Tina blush. Steve’s hands are resting on her lower back, her hands tangled in his hair. Your cheeks flush red and full of hurt. Adrenaline began to take over your entire being. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to pull her away and tackle her to the ground or push her away and slap Steve in the face. Your feet are moving you before you’re ready, taking you quickly across the room and through the tight-knit group of teenagers. Arms reach out to separate the girl from Steve. You might have seen him wince a bit from the girl’s hands being yanked out of his hair, but you weren’t concerned about that in the moment. You’re not thinking straight as your hands fly up to Steve’s face, pulling him to yours in a heated kiss. The room feels still, world silent for a moment as the music still blasts loudly from the stereo in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, the taste of alcohol mixing with your cherry lip balm and the stale faint taste of beer on Steve’s breath. There is not an eye in the room that isn’t on you and Steve. After what feels like an eternity, you pull away, wide-eyed and stumbling backward, not able to decipher Steve’s expression. “Y/N…” you hear your name on his breath in the faintest whisper. It all becomes too much. You turn on your heels and sprint towards the bathroom, barely making it as you barrel through the door and collapse on the cold tile floor. The music still blasts loudly through the house, feeling like a hammer and nail pounding against your head. You just want it all to stop. The headache. The vomiting. The music. The girl dancing with Steve. Hell, at this point, you want to forget Steve. Maybe you’d be able to be a functioning human without having to constantly worry about if Steve is with someone. You could just focus on you. Maybe college was the fresh start waiting for you to forget Hawkins. A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. “It’s taken,” you manage to get out before another wave of nausea hits. The door opens suddenly and closes gently. “What part of taken-?” “Hey.” You look up, staring into the eyes of a boy that you had only seen once (ironically, in another awkward situation involving you in a bathroom), but heard thousands of stories of. To be completely honest, you’d thought they made up the story of Steve getting dethroned as “king” because they were tired of him winning keg races. But, real or imaginary, Billy Hargrove was staring at you from the doorway, leather jacket open, exposing his glistening chest. “Billy? How are you-? What are you-?” “Speechless, sweetheart?” “No, I…I just didn’t see you tonight.” Nice recovery, idiot. “I’ve been around. Came a bit late. Figured I’d say hello.” “While I’m puking my guts out? Wow, what a romantic,” you retort sarcastically. He smiles and kneels down next to you. “Figured you’d need some company.” He gently brushes your hair out of your face and down your left shoulder. Electricity runs through your body in a way you’d never felt before. There is a moment between the two of you as Billy leans in closer. “I’m fine,” you say finally. You brush the butterflies in your stomach off as an early hangover and stand up to wash your face. Billy stands up and snakes his hands around your waist as you’re drying your face with a towel. Before you know it, he is spinning you around and pressing you against the sink. He dips his head in the crook of your neck, eliciting a small gasp from you as his lips gently graze along the sweet spot of your neck. You feel Billy smirk against your skin as you tip your head back ever so slightly, his lips continuing to explore your collarbone. You’re here to have fun, right? “Y/N?” A gentle voice is at the door and you know immediately know that it’s Steve. You feel Billy’s grip on your thighs tighten as you jump, reality hitting you square in the face. “Come on, Y/N, open up. It’s me. Look, I just want to talk about...about...you know...” Your head is spinning out of control. If Steve caught you with Billy, that would absolutely be it. The last time you dressed a wound of Steve’s was when he was protecting the kids from Billy. You could still hear Dustin’s panicked, but hushed voice on the phone, telling you to come over, it was really bad. A shudder rings through your body. You didn’t want to think about the wounds that would have to be dressed if Steve walked in on this scene. The doorknob begins to wobble, Steve still gently knocking on the door. Adrenaline surges through you enough to push Billy off of you so you could at least plant your feet on the ground. Billy grins. “If I’m not mistaken, that must be Pretty Boy himself standing on the other side of that door.” It’s almost cinematic as you watch the door swing open revealing a brown-eyed boy with a pout on his lips. He looks up at Billy with disgust, and then to you with hurt. You feel your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. “Well, I was coming to check on Y/N…but I see she’s got all the help she needs,” Steve says. Billy leans up against the doorframe, arms crossed. You wished you could slap that shit-eating grin off his face. You wished his cologne would stop wafting off of your clothes and into the air. You wished, more than anything, that you could stop replaying Steve’s expression in your mind. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy, Pretty Boy. You wanted to talk about something? Now’s your chance.” “Billy,” you manage to choke out. You knew exactly what he was doing and you weren’t prepared to sit back and watch it happen. “Don’t get in the middle of this, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty little face of yours,” Billy smirked, bringing a hand to the corner of your mouth gently, which you promptly swatted away. You wanted to make Steve jealous before, but not this way. Not here. Not with Billy. Part of you began damning yourself for even kissing Steve in the first place. If jealousy wouldn’t have played a part in this, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You try reminding yourself of the redhead. The way she had her fingers twirling Steve’s hair. His smile as she swayed to the rhythm. Steve’s defeated expression in the doorway kept pulling you away. “Don’t talk to her like that,” Steve whispered. “You’re brave for still being around these parts, you know that, Harrington? How about I kick your ass again to remind you why you shouldn’t be here.” Billy’s hands clenched into fists. Steve’s cheeks flushed rage. You just wanted out of this situation. With what little strength you had remaining, your hand met the back of Billy’s head with a loud smack. Billy turned to face you, one of his hands immediately flying up to the pulsing red spot you had left him with. “Just go, Billy.” You say sternly. Billy eyes the both of you, chuckling softly. He turned to disappear back into the party, but not before body checking Steve on his way out. You watch as Steve winces, eyes wandering up to meet yours. Before you can open your mouth, Steve is following suit, disappearing into the wave of teenagers. Tears sting your eyes, begging to be released. You blink them back as you follow Steve’s path. You had to fix this.

I promise the way we fight Make me honestly feel like we just in love … I lose my mind when it comes to you

The cold night air is a pleasant change from the humidity between bodies in Tina’s crowded living room. The breeze wasn’t helping the fact that there were still tears in your eyes, each wind blowing past threatening to release an entire ocean. Your eyes were locked on Steve’s silhouette as he walked towards his car. “Steve!” You’re yelling for him until you’re hoarse. It’s not until you’re directly on his heel that he turns to face you. His eyes are red and you can see where a few tears had cascaded down his face. “Why.” “I should ask you the same question,” you counter. Steve shakes his head, spinning back around to open his car door. You grab his arm. “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N,” he says coldly. “Please.” Steve sighs and closes the car door, leaning against it. A tear escapes his eye. You reach up to wipe it away but he swats your hand away to take care of it himself. “You were in there with him,” his voice cracks. “He-“ “You were in there with him, Y/N! You’re going to try and deny it? What? After you kiss me, making me look like the biggest idiot on the planet for not immediately running after you? And then the moment I do, he’s blocking my way? What the hell?” “Steve it isn’t-“ “What do you mean it isn’t like that? You’re going to kiss me, after everything we’ve been through, and then I walk into that? Is this a game to you? Our whole…everything?” You watch as Steve hesitates in continuing his speech. Tears stream down his face, and your heart shatters in a million pieces. You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. The girl dancing with him seems like a blur in your mind. Just another one of the girls that loved him and left him within the same day. Just another heartbreak you would have to deal with as you stroked his hair late at night and told him that “the one” is out there. Him not knowing that “the one” had been there all along. “Steve…” “All this time, you know? I really thought I had you figured out. One moment, we’re sitting on your bed cracking jokes together, and then the next you’re…I really thought…shit,” he takes a moment to rub his eyes and get his thoughts together. “Look. I made a mistake, okay? That girl…that girl was a distraction. I was trying to get your attention.” “And you got it. What makes you think Billy wasn’t a mistake?” You respond. “Because it’s Billy. I mean, he just looks at girls and gets them to do anything for him. And he’s in there taking care of you? Something I should-“ “You think I wanted him in there, Harrington?” You interrupt. “The last thing I wanted while near death on the floor was fucking Billy Hargrove trying to feel me up. I…I wanted you, Steve. I’ve always wanted you, Steve.” Steve’s eyes light up for the first time that night. He runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick that you had picked up on over the years. Now it’s you who had tears streaming down your face. Steve’s hands move to wipe them away and you let him. His hands linger. They’re soft, save for the rough callouses on his left hand from that one year he tried to pick up guitar. You lean into his hands. It’s the first time you actually felt secure all night. “Can we…start this night over? Forget that any of this happened?” “I would like that,” you nod through tears, smiling. “On one condition.” Steve’s face falls and he takes his hands away from your face, worry in his eyes. You reach for his arms and place them around your waist, taking his face in your hands. “Stop being so goddamn stubborn.” And with that you kiss him gently, Steve returning the kiss before pulling away. “Only if you stop first.” You playfully swat at his chest as he leans in for another kiss, which you happily return. “Let’s get out of here.”

If you were my boyfriend, and you were my girlfriend I prolly wouldn’t see nobody else But I can’t guarantee that by myself

A month passed since you sent in your college applications. A month of agonizingly looking up at your ceiling fan until school started, then coming home and looking longingly out at the mailbox; a cycle you had grown quite accustomed to. Today was no different. As soon as the bell rang, you were darting out of the classroom and sprinting to your locker, fumbling with the lock as if it were the first day of school all over again. “Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Jethro,” Steve sidled up next to you, taking the lock from your hands and opening it for you. You throw your social studies book in the locker, throw your backpack over your shoulder, and grab your psychology book before slamming the door and starting down the hallway. “What if today’s the day?” “You’ve been saying that for a month, Y/N,” Steve is struggling to stay alongside you through the constant wave of students trying to get to the buses. “Okay, but what if?” You grab his hand and drag him down the hallway to the bike rack. The party is also getting out of school and grabbing their bikes, and there you are holding Steve Harrington’s hand. “Gross!” Dustin is the first to speak. “You all are holding hands?” Lucas adds. “When did this happen?” Mike is almost disgusted. “Guys, stop it. I think it’s kind of cute,” Will, always the gentleman, smiles at you, while getting looks from his friends. “Yeah, it’d be cute if it wasn’t Steve!” Dustin replies. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks. “I mean, it’s you.” “Uh-huh, yeah, very original.” “And you’re holding hands.” “Okay? And what if I did this,” Steve leans down and kisses you passionately to a chorus of “ewww” and “gross” and “please stop”. You pull away, grabbing your bike. “Well, boys, it was lovely to chat, but I have to go see if there is an acceptance letter waiting in my mailbox. You kiss Steve again (to the party’s dismay) before pedaling away. “I could just drive you, you know? It’d be quicker!…And you’re gone,” Steve yells after you. Dustin puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. You’ve got us to keep you company.” “Yeah, just in case, you know, she never comes back,” Mike adds. “She just went home, she’s not dead, you idiots,” Steve countered, although he couldn’t help the nagging thought in the back of his mind that you would get accepted to one of your dream schools and leave him in Hawkins. Will noticed Steve’s subtle change in expression. “Steve, are you okay?” “What? Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I need to go make sure Y/N gets home,” he says, digging through his jacket pocket for his car keys. “Are you coming to movie night?” Dustin yelled after him. “I mean, I don’t have a choice, do I?” Steve yells back. “Unless you want Mike and Lucas to get in another fight!” “Hey!” Mike and Lucas both hit Dustin on the side of the head. Steve turns to face the party, still walking back towards the parking lot. “I’ll be there at seven. You dipshits better not kill each other before I get there, got it?” The party nods collectively as Steve turns back around to find his car. Once he drives away, it’s a silent drive to your house. The inside of Steve’s mind was anything but quiet, though, as he still was thinking about what the kids were saying. They were kids, what did they know? But you were super smart. There was no doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t get accepted to Harvard. You did every extracurricular he could think of, plus got straight As, plus tutored him when he was struggling with algebra. Harvard was just too far from Hawkins. Purdue would be better so he could visit you, but he didn’t want to influence your decision in any way. You were sitting in your driveway, rifling through envelopes as he pulled up next to your house. “How’s it going?” You place three creme colored envelopes in front of you as Steve approaches, and stuff the rest of the mail in your backpack. He sits next to you, reading the return addresses. “Purdue, Ohio, and Harvard,” you breathe. “Which one should I open first?” Steve’s jaw clenches as he reads the schools in his mind over and over, mulling over in his mind how far of a drive Ohio was, how close Purdue was in respect to Hawkins, and truly how far Harvard was. Was he just exaggerating? He feels your eyes boring into the side of his head. “Harvard,” he blurts, silently cursing himself for doing so. You tense up. “I was gonna do that one last, you know? Save the best for last?” “Oh, no, it’s okay! It’s totally fine! Um,” he stammers. There’s a silence between the two of you before you begin to laugh at him. “Steve. Whatever happens, I’m not leaving you, okay?” “It’s just that-“ “I know. You are worried that I’m going to move away, find some college guy that is better than you, and fall in love. It’s not gonna happen, Steve. I waited this long for something to happen between us, and I’m not messing it up because of college. Plus, there’s no one out there who is going to make me think that they’re better than the boy who adopted a baby blue tang at the Hawkins Aquarium for my seventh birthday” you assure him. 

Steve smiles at the memory. You wouldn’t shut up about the fact that you could adopt your own fish and visit it every day. Your parents didn’t have enough money at the time to do it for you, and when you came to Steve’s for a playdate after spending the morning at the aquarium, crying and holding onto a ragged blue tang plush, he silently vowed to save all of his allowances to adopt a fish for you. It was quite possibly your fondest childhood memory. “But, long-distance is hard.” “Stevie, we don’t know what any of these say. For all I know, they could all be rejection letters,” you reply. “You know that’s bullshit,” Steve laughs, leaning back on his arms. “Now, are you going to open the letters or let them blow away in the breeze?” You carefully opened the Harvard letter, unfolding the trifold, and reading silently to yourself. Your face fell slightly at the result. An acceptance. You were so prepared for rejection, why weren’t you happy that you got into the most competitive school in the country? Your reach school? But there was the acceptance embossed on nice card stock paper with your name on it and it made you sick. “It’s a no,” you say carefully, not wanting to convey the actual result to your boyfriend. “No it’s not,” Steve said, reaching for the letter. “Let me see.” “No, Steve. It’s a no,” you say, stuffing it back into the envelope and tossing it in your backpack with the rest of the mail. “I should’ve known anyway.” “Hey, come here,” Steve envelopes you in a warm hug, fingers running through your hair. “They don’t deserve you.” You lean into his embrace and before you know it, you’ve both fallen on the driveway, laughing as you went down. Steve kisses your cheek. “I could lay here forever.” “I couldn’t, I’ve still got two letters to open,” you bolt upright. Steve looks at you with pleading eyes. “I’m just joking.” You say, flashing a smile. “Let’s see what the other two say,” Steve lays on his side as you open the letters from Ohio and Purdue. Both acceptances, of course. Getting accepted to Purdue made you feel more at ease. It wasn’t Harvard, but it was home. “I have until the end of the month to make a decision,” you say, reading the last sentence on your Purdue letter. “Well, how many more are you waiting on?” Steve asks. “Four, but I think I’ve made a decision,” you say, smiling. “I’m going to Purdue.” “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Steve quizzes you, but you can tell he’s trying to hide his excitement from your decision. “I mean, it kind of makes me nervous to leave Indiana. I mean, I’m getting out of Hawkins, which is what I wanted, but I’m not far from home. Plus, I’ve got a good reason to stay close,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. He deepens it, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You smile into the kiss but pull away gently. “We should head inside. Kind of weird to be making out on my driveway, don’cha think?” ***************************************************************************************************** You’re snuggled into Steve’s side as Return of the Jedi is nearing its end. The boys are all asleep on Dustin’s floor, El is snuggled into your side asleep, Max next to her. If you had a camera, you would totally set it up to take a picture of the scene around you. In that moment, you truly felt like you were in your element. Movie nights with the party were your favorite, and you loved that you had El and Max to keep you sane while the boys were fighting amongst themselves. It made you that much more excited that you would be close to them so you could watch them grow. However, there was one thing that you felt that you couldn’t let go. You feel Steve’s head droop down onto yours. “Steve,” you whisper. “Hmm?” “You’re falling asleep.” “No I’m not,” he slurs sleepily. “I have to tell you something,” you say. “Hmm?” “I didn’t get rejected from Harvard. They accepted me.” Steve stirs. “I was born at night, but not last night, Y/N. You’re bad at hiding your facial expressions.” You roll your eyes, trying your best to ram into his side without disturbing El and Max. Steve hugs you closer with sleepy eyes. “But I’m glad you’re here.” “Yeah. Me too,” you smile.

You were truly home.