#hes always wearing that ugly as shit green ass sweater

[cowboy-robooty]

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[endlessymphony]

Could I please get a fluffy 👒 with Draco Malfoy? Possibly something sixth year or later?

yeah of course! :)

you melt my heart.

draco malfoy x reader

summary - draco basically hates everyone but you; no plot... just fluff

warnings - some light cussing (as usual)

a/n - ok y’all are really making me like mr malfoy lately

draco malfoy, the platinum blonde hard-ass with what seems to be a heart of stone. well... for everyone but you.

somehow you had weaselled your way into his heart during sixth year- everything you did brought a smile to his face, a faint blush adorning his cheeks whenever you were near, and his once suave way of talking was hindered by nerves. the second someone pointed it out, however, he immediately began chewing them out

the first time you ‘met’- you had run into him after class, staring down at the rubric in your hands for the essay that was due in two weeks time when you bumped shoulders with someone. “shit! i’m so sorry.” you called out in surprise as you looked up to see who it was, almost immediately regretting your whole existence once you recognized him. surprisingly he just shrugged and continued on with his day instead of tearing a hole into you, like he would’ve done to anyone else.

it wasn’t uncommon for his demeanour to instantly change when he saw you, face softening and brows unfurrowing- even if he was pissed off at potter. seeing you made the sun shine a bit brighter, the air sweeter, and his mood improving.

today happened to be on the colder side, the weather being quite on and off lately, so you decided to throw on a sweater after classes. the rain lightly tapped on the window as you began on your potions homework, tapping the end of your quill against your cheek. essays were always hard to start, but you were adamant on getting a better mark then your know-it-all boyfriend, so you knew that you had figure something out eventually.

you decided you needed a break to think about the wording, putting the quill down and leaned back in your chair, stretching slightly before turning back to your paper and sighing. then came a knock at the door, you turned your head and smiled when you recognized the tall figure in your doorway.

“how lovely of you to come see me.” you mused, “i wanted to see if you needed any help with the potions essay.” he replied, a small smirk coming to his lips as he knew exactly what you were doing. procrastinating.

“well, i’m actually all set with that.” you said with false confidence as you looked back at your desk where your essay was, or well, the lack of it. draco shut the door behind him, walking closer to you. “oh yeah? let’s see what you have so far.”

“i don’t need you to cheat off of me, malfoy.”you flipped the parchment over, pretending as if you had something written. “and why would i cheat off of you?” he raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on the back of your chair before noticing the sweater you were wearing.

“is that...” “your sweater?” you cut him off, “yeah, it is. don’t you think it suits me?” you gaze up at him with doe-like eyes, trying to avoid any scolding that may be coming your way. he chuckled slightly, and your stomach felt like it had just dropped. ‘maybe he thinks i look ugly?’ your inner anxious voice took over.

“you look beautiful.” draco answered simply, “the green compliments your skin quite nicely.” you attempted to control the flush that was growing across your face. “...really?” your voice was soft, and you were hesitant.

he brought a hand up to gently cup your cheek, “really.” draco’s signature smirk faded into a sweet smile, something only you saw, and even then it was rare. you melted into his touch, leaning your head into his hand.

“i know you haven’t started on your essay yet.” he said softly, and your eyes snapped open, face heating up even more. “shit.” was all you could muster, and of course it came out mumbled. he pulled his hand away from your face, “why don’t we take a break together, and i can help you with it afterwards, yeah?” draco offered, still smiling as he offered to help you up out of your chair.

you nodded, graciously taking his hand and standing up. “where are we off to?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “nowhere too far.” was the only response you got, as he swung you over his shoulder. you let out a sound of surprise, beginning to giggle.

draco walked a few steps before he dropped you onto your bed, clambering onto it and laying his head on your chest. “well... this was closer than i expected.” you said with a laugh, beginning to run your hand through his hair.

he hummed softly, gently toying with the bottom of your sweater as the both of you began to relax in each other’s embraces. “you make me soft... a huge sap, i swear i’ve never felt like this with anyone but you.” draco said, voice muffled by your shirt. “i’m very aware that you’re the bad boy who hates everyone but me.” you tease, ruffling his hair. he lets out a grumble of protest, but doesn’t do much to stop you. “i’ve known it since the day we met.” going back to twirling the soft strands around your fingers.

“you melt my heart, y/n. i love you.”

“i love you too, draco.”

🏷- @miss-starkov @seekinglumos @wizardwheezes @elevatorsdoor

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[shyficwriter]

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[7spaceace7]

Ego Holiday Headcanons

Haven’t decided if I’ll make more after this, but here’s some festive headcanons for the Septic boys! (tagging as Yuletube for my submission for the past two missed days, hope that’s alright!)

Henrik Von Schneeplestein

-The host of the Septic Ego Holiday Celebration (est. 2017)

-STRESSED

-If he wasn’t stressed enough by being a doctor (and parent lmao), HE IS NOW

-Getting all the egos together for the holidays and making sure they DON’T kill each other?? Someone give this man an award

-Everyone keeping their limbs would be his only Christmas wish

-He does not get said Christmas wish (see: Robbie)

-Switches up his black coffee for coffee with peppermint creamer

-Chase eventually hooks him on peppermint tea instead, he knows the Doc needs sleep

-Can be found humming along to the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy as he cooks holiday dinner

-Definitely has a “kiss the cook” apron

-Chase crossed out the “the” on it with “zhe” in sharpie

-Day 5, Schneep still hasn’t noticed

-Loves it, but still wears his doctor coat on top of it

-Gets very cold easily, so the fire is always burning

-Has a nutcracker collection

-It’s getting out of hand

Chase Brody

-Holidays are,,, hard for him

-Still sends his kids cards and presents, never actually knowing if they get them or not

-They do, I promise

-Wasn’t originally keen on celebrating with everyone, he has a tendency to self-isolate

-But once he gets there, he’s glad he did

-IMMEDIATELY tackled in a hug from Jackie

-”YOU’RE HERE!! Couldn’t start without you, dude!”

-Everyone else smiles and gives the appropriate hug

-(Anti does not, but no eye roll this time at least)

-Absolutely loves warm apple cider and has a good recipe to make his own

-Favorite Christmas movie is Elf, no I do not take criticism

-Has a soft spot for Mickey’s Once Upon A Christmas though because of his kids

-Holiday puns, you CANNOT get this man to shut up with the puns

- “Where’s Anti?” “Up to SNOW good! There’s SNOW way we can REIN him in now!”

-Once it snows, this boy is sledding down every hill in SIGHT

-Teaches Robbie how to catch snowflakes on his tongue

-Marvin makes him a “World’s Best Dad” sweater

-He totally cries and does not take it off the rest of the season

Jackieboy Man

-Christmas is his favorite holiday

-Good luck getting him to sit still around this time

-Has super strength, so he doesn’t quite have the same “don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” factor that everyone else does??

-Nearly giving Henrik a heart attack everytime he moves, but make it Festive™

-”Guys it’s snowing!!” “JACKIE GET ZHE FAHK OFF ZHE RAILING”

-Slides down the stairs anyway

-Marvin made him a whole ass “ugly supersuit” instead of just a sweater

-It is a w f u l, but on purpose

-Ofc Jackie adores the shit out of it

-Loves snowball fights!

-Always gets targeted by Anti tho

-Eventually it turns into a snowball war

-Pulls Chase over to tag team him, then discovers Marvin has an alliance with Anti

-They will be here a while

-Time to break out the reindeer-themed boxers

-They go along perfectly with his red and blue sweater-suit

-Eventually able to settle down when it gets dark out, bonus points if there’s hot chocolate involved (courtesy of JJ)

-Don’t forget the marshmallows

-Wants to help everybody out with their plans, always does his best

-Even if his best includes falling off a roof

Marvin the Magnificent

-Made everyone sweaters, even Anti

-Spent too much time on the design parts to make em perfect, so he had to rush getting them all sewn

-Uses his magic to sew like three at once

-December 1st, 12:00am is when the Christmas music starts

-Mariah Carey impressions that slowly get higher as the month goes on

-Performs a “Let It Go” rendition that could rival Idina’s during christmas karaoke night

-Switches his regular mask for his holiday one with snowflakes instead of card suits on it

-The decorating master, with JJ as his apprentice

-Favorite part is designing for the lights outside

-Learned a spell to make it look like it’s snowing inside

-Forgot to learn the spell to make it stop snowing inside

-Ended up just sticking with those paper snowflakes dangling on the ceiling

-Asks Jackie for help with the lights on the roof, not because he can’t easily do it himself, he just knows that Jackie likes to help and this is the one thing he knows he can’t break

-Did not expect Jackie to break himself by falling off the roof instead

-Ends up finishing the lights with his magic anyway (after he untangles his boyfriend from the lights, that is)

-Can and will destroy Jackie during snowball fights just because he can

Jameson Jackson

-THIS BOY oh this boy

-Brings out the classic holiday music and sets it up on the gramophone

-LOVES making up dances to the music

-May be a classic boy, but his guilty pleasure is Michael Buble

-(Robbie calls him bubbles whenever he comes on)

-Goes ALL OUT with the holiday baking

-Cookies of all kinds, homemade gingerbread for the houses, so many pies, even learns how to bake his own bread

-Everyone agrees that his pumpkin bread is the best

-Anti especially loves the cherry pie for “aesthetic purposes”

-Has a whole “Twas the Night Before Christmas” puppet show routine

-His job is making the decorations while Marvin sets them all up, it’s a great dynamic

-Definitely makes those traditional popcorn garlands for the tree

-for some reason puts an orange in his stocking?? The others are confused, but he’s so excited so they just let him do his thing

-Now everyone has oranges in their stockings

-They still don’t know what it means

Antisepticeye

-Die Hard is a Christmas movie, dammit!

- “Grinch Bitch” is what his sweater from Marvin says

-Secretly likes it, but fuck off

-Wears it to sleep every night in Winter

-You know that thing where cats get under Christmas trees and swat at the ornaments? Yeah that’s him

-Loves the white elephant gift game

-Ends up getting a present and it’s a turtle

-His name is knives

-KING OF SNOWBALL FIGHTS

-Fills his snowballs with fake blood so they explode on people

- (at least we hope its fake)

-If it doesn’t snow enough, he is the bitch who throws water balloons instead

-Henrik still has work leading up to Christmas, so Anti listens to him rant when he gets home

-Christmas patients are fuckin crazy and he loves it

-One time fell asleep and woke up with a red nose and antlers

-Chase was never safe after that

-Kept the antlers though, they jingle

-Saved them all from Chase’s puns that day

- “Where’s Anti?” *distant, staticky jingling* “Ah there he is”

Robbie the Zombie

-LIGHTS...pretty lights…

-He loves the lights, and will try to eat them if you’re not careful

-Says they’re static candy

-Doesn’t get cold because he can’t feel it, so he often wanders around in the snow

-One time he came home without his left foot and Schneep nearly had a heart attack

-Turns out it froze in the snow and snapped off his leg

-The Great Foot Search Party of 2020

-Please don’t forget to bundle this boy up before going out

-Anti has knitted him a hat and scarf for just this reason

-Henrik was the Proudest Dad that day

-Totally gets to put the star on the Christmas tree every year

-Marvin levitates him high enough

-Favorite holiday movie is The Polar Express

-One time JJ came out with his signature hot cocoa during the movie scene and Robbie was THRILLED

-Talking almost knocked him over thrilled

-Tries to sing along to holiday music, the lyrics don’t work out much

-Really good at keeping a beat though

-Marvin made him a sweater with bells on it

-Adores the bells, flaps the too long sleeves to make them jingle

Shawn Flynn

-Likes Christmas, but like lowkey

-He’s a toymaker!!! He makes adorable toys for all the egos as their presents from him!!

-Didn’t really have a family to go back to in his days at Joey Drew Studios, so he was used to spending Christmas alone, usually working

-NOT ANYMORE!

-Now he has Too Much Family (but in the good way)

-Absolutely gets nicknamed Scrooge at first, probably because he really likes A Christmas Carol and he’s a grump

-Often can be found being pulled off to dance by the gramophone with JJ

-He’s got two left feet, but JJ doesn’t really care

-If anyone still believes in Santa, even just a little bit, it’s because of him

-Has a giant red sack that he fills up with toys he’s made and/or the ones no one could sell back at the studios and donates them to orphanages

-Usually sticks to his old timey clothes, but when he does wear modern Christmas attire like the sweaters, he has,,,no idea how to match things

-It’s ‘cause he’s red/green colorblind

-once asked why Marvin had “yellow” hair

-JJ makes sure that his decorations have lots of blues so it’s not so much strain on his eyes

[ironhusband]

Rhodeytony seasons of love master post of headcanons

What I didn’t miss too many days and decided to make up for it this way, not at all!

Rhodey is a rocket scientist and Tony is an engineer so you would expect that if they followed the recipe for fireworks, everything would be A-Okay. But of course, those two genius boys can’t ever let anything be simple. So when they try to make fireworks for Rhdoey’s family fourth of July party, there might have a close call with Tony’s fingers and the grass in Rhodey’s yard is burned to the crisp. Mama Rhodes is Not Happy.

Rhodey doesn’t often get drunk without Tony, but during the era between Ultron and Civil War where Tony is retired, Rhodey is a new Avenger and they miss each other terribly, the team makes Rhodey drink two shots of Nat’s too strong booze, and he maybe leaves him a voicemail before being wrestled into sleep. “Toooooony,” he whines into the phone, “I love you. I love you very very much. Did you know that your friends are the best? Because they are! Sam, you are the best! Tell Tony you are the best. No, but for real though, I miss you. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. You should leave your stupid Malibu house and come live with us. Your friends are the best. And you are the best. It will be so fun. And then I won’t miss you anymore...” The next morning Tony calls him and tells him, “that’s the worst way you could have asked me to move in with you” but by the afternoon boxes start showing up.

Tony is often up by 3 AM so 3 AM voicemails aren’t uncommon, even if Tony hates leaving them (”it’s not 1993 who has an answering machine?”). He especially stays up and leaves voicemails when Rhodey isn’t there to drag him to bed. He’s usually a little bit manic, and just a tad longing at that time. But Tony’s sane enough while leaving them so it’s mostly just ramblings about Rhodey’s suit and its modifications and muses about Tony hijacking a military plane to see him. Rhodey sometimes uses them as a way to relax when he’s away and missing his husband.

None of them knit the ugly sweater. Roberta does. Tony cries when he gets his first ugly sweater from her because he knows more than anyone it’s a right of passage into being a Rhodes, and he finally gets a family. Tony wears the sweaters all the time because it fells like knowing someone cares for him. Rhodey, however, isn’t that touched by the ugly sweaters, and resumes to be seen with them. He doesn’t touch Roberta’s ugly sweaters on any day but the extremely cold or laundry day. That is why Tony is Roberta’s favorite.

Neither of them screams first in the haunted house. Our two prankster boys pull all their resources in Halloween and create a haunted house out of their MIT dorms, making everyone scream. Some of the things they invent for the house shouldn’t even be possible so people scream more than at any haunted house because they are convinced there’s magic involved. It makes Tony and Rhodey fall to the ground laughing.

Rhodey pulls Tony back in for the lazy day. Not only because Tony’s mind is so busy that he gets up way too early because he’s dreamed of an equation, but also because Tony gets up way too early for the time he fell asleep, and Rhodey wants to make sure his boyfriend gets at least some sleep. Besides, Tony needs to learn what a lazy day is and Rhodey wants cuddles when he’s finally home.

Tony is on the fall festival’s planning committee out of spite (one of the students there KICKED HIS CHAIR) and pure mischief and makes sure to ruin it in some way every year, or at least antagonize everyone else. He and Rhodey scheme every year how to torture the planning committee.

Tony wins Rhodey a stuffed platypus at the carnival and Rhodey wins Tony a faulty tape recorder. I have this exact scene in road trip fic.

Tony is the ice skating pro because he was a dancer as a child and part of his training was ice skating, but even he can’t skate without falling on his ass with how tightly Rhodey is holding on to him. Tony never takes Rhodey ice skating again, but him, Natasha, and Jeanette all have fun while ice skating together. Rhodey is upset about not getting ice skating dates with his boyfriend anymore, especially with how tight he gets to hold on to Tony in the ring. But he still likes to watch videos of Tony mastering the skill.

Rhodey makes the best hot cocoa! He learned the secret recipe from Mama Rhodes and will not share it, not even with his husband. Tony always pouts over not getting the recipe (”you’ll butcher it, no way”) but he’s happy to have his husband to make it for him, because it tastes like heaven and he’s the luckiest person on Earth for it. The Avengers also enjoy Rhodey’s hot cocoa in the winter and also try and figure out the recipe. None have succeeded so far. Mama Rhodes is delighted by so many superheroes enjoying her recipe.

Cuddling ensues when they get snowed in. Tony hates the cold and the boredom it all entails so he’ll leech on to Rhodey for warmth and entrainment. Tony sort of gets on Rhodey’s nerves by the end of it, but he finds Tony super cute when he falls asleep on his chest. It ends with Tony making himself so insane he creates robots to shovel all the snow away. It somehow works. 

Tony doesn’t much like the holidays because they bring back too many bad memories but he finds how Rhodey’s excitement adorable. Rhodey’s near childlike joy at getting presents on Christmas morning makes the holidays bearable for Tony. Rhodey insists they create their own traditions (like his parents did) when they get together and rent their own apartment during their MIT days, and so they create a few. During Thanksgiving dinner, they each get to make one dish and they order the rest of dinner to make up for the lacking food (Rhodey only made the turkey Tony only makes the cranberry sauce). Their tree is purely for decoration as they exchange gifts privately with each other, and it’s a rule that they must make all the decor for the tree. As they grow up and get more family members, the thanksgiving tradition is stopped but they leave the Christmas ones and create a few more traditions. For Thanksgiving, their small tradition is getting each other a gift card for a restaurant they recommend, a memory from the old times. They never eat at the table, but instead set up a buffet and allow people to mingle on the couches while they eat the food. Tony does the shopping for Thanksgiving and Rhodey does the cooking, except the cranberry sauce, because it’s easy and Tony can handle it. For Christmas, they have a lazy day in bed instead of wake up to see their presents. The Avengers might leave them presents under the tree but Tony and Rhodey only care about the gifts they give each other. Every new bot gets its own sock stocking and they let the bots decorate their socks. They both leave the suits in a random square in New York with the sign “they want to be dressed for the season!” and watch the different creations of Iron Man and War Machine “snow”men. It happens a few years in a row.

Rhodey hides the mistletoe right above Tony’s workshop door because he knows Tony’s always there and he’s one of the only ones allowed in, so Rhodey’ll get plenty of kisses. Plus, he gets some adorable pictures of Tony kissing his bots.

Tony hides the mistletoe in frequently-used spaces (notable mentions: Fury’s drawer when he leaves his pencils and the hanger on which Clint hangs his arrows) because he’s a little shit, and wants everyone to hate him. “I’m going to make you some of my hot chocolate, Tony,” Rhodey says as he opened the cupboard for the pot. Tony desperately tries to hide his smirk, “okay, hubby.” It takes a few minutes before Rhodey says, “fine, I’ll kiss you, but no hot chocolate for you.”

The season which reminds Tony of Rhodey is spring. Because Rhodey is just as lovely and beautiful as the season is. Spring reminds him of Rhodey’s passion and intelligence, the way everything turns green so quickly reminds him of how quick Rhodey is to develop an idea. It reminds him to pick flowers for his husband and finally being in the season to buy Rhodey’s favorite fruit, strawberries.

The season which reminds Rhodey of Tony is winter. Because Tony hates the winter. He hates Christmas and snow and rain. He hates the cold and the blackouts. So whenever something especially winter happens, like snowmen building or Christmas shopping, Rhodey thinks with a fond smile “oh, Tony would hate this”.

[ateezmakemeweep]

on one condition.

seonghwa x reader; a walk to remember au

word count: 19k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death and terminal illness)

park seonghwa had always been a troubled boy. 

and not in the cheesy, cliche 'bad boy' way, like he's parading around town with a motorcycle and worn leather jacket. 

in the 'he has absolutely no regard for himself or others' type of way. he doesn't care if he hurts himself in an attempt to prove he's the best nor does he care if he hurts anybody with his words or fists.

this all started fairly early in his life, showing questionable behaviors at the ripe age of eleven.

it started with skipping classes, asking to go to the bathroom and then meeting his friend's outside on the field; there had never been a child sent to the principal's office as many times as him that year.

by middle school, it had quickly escalated. 

vandalizing obscene objects and words onto the bathroom stall or spray painting on the back of the school. he was intelligent though, both naturally book and street smart, so he knew to wear black attire and a mask; he was only almost caught once.

his last few years of high school now consist of women and fighting.

because if he wasn't pounding into the newest girl of the week, telling her that that was fun but she knows where the door is, he was smacking some kid's head off the pavement for no other reason than that he could. 

that he had such uncontrollable rage in his body, probably from being stuck with and accustomed to the delinquent ways of his friends, that it was the only thing to make him feel better.

because he couldn't deny it, he didn't like who he was.

you had always been a good girl. 

and quite literally in the cheesy, cliche way: sweaters and a nonexistent dating life and your nose always in a book if you weren't at the church your dad preached at every sunday.

you didn't mind your simple, solitary life. 

you had gotten used to being alone and you didn't ever care when people made fun of you for it. because you liked your sweaters and reading and even spending your days after school tutoring younger kids.

it was a place you went every monday through friday, accustomed to the children and other helpers, mainly teachers, that were in the stuffy school library. 

you were surprised to see none other than park seonghwa walk through the doors one afternoon, looking around at the layout of bookshelves and tables like it's the first time he's ever seeing it.

you tried not to watch him float around the room, a blank expression on his face as he settled for standing in front of the main desk waiting for instruction. he was leaned against the wood with his arms folded and jaw set, a very obvious distaste and annoyance present on the boy.

you continued to work with the younger 7th grader who couldn't quite grasp the concept of solving for x, ignoring the way the head teacher pranced over and spoke hushly to the boy.

"and what exactly are you doing here, mr. park?"

seonghwa felt dread fill him immediately, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the teacher who kicked him out of class everyday back in tenth grade.

"tutoring," is all he says, surprised and ready to punch the older man in the mouth when he lets out a scoff.

because apparently after your third strike for starting a brawl in the cafeteria, the only options were suspension or helping out the very understaffed, depressing after-school programs along with an extra research project.

"how long?" the boy asked the principal who sat across from him, a large man with kind eyes despite the destruction the student in front of him has brought into the school since the day he started.

"the rest of the year, mr. park."

seonghwa's eyebrow raised as he truly considered suspension. 

because at least that would only be two weeks of sleeping in and dicking around, not eight months of excruciating 'volunteer' work with bratty preteens and mundane class work. 

that's why he got up and went towards the doorway, throwing a mock wink at the man.

"i think i'll take the suspension, sir."

but the chipper man laughed like he was told the funniest joke he's ever heard, rising from his throne and walking over to pat seonghwa's shoulder. 

"you'll start on monday in the library."

and now he sees he severely underestimated just how tragic today was gonna be, sitting across from a boy who's just as pissed off as him about being here.

"what do you need help with?" seonghwa finally asks after five minutes of silence, leaning back in his chair as he observes the scrawny boy.  

"i don't know, i don't even need this stupid help," the younger boy snaps, the words already getting under seonghwa's skin. "they forced me to be here."

"well, that makes two of us," he mumbles, his eyes moving to the test paper sticking out of the boy's backpack marker with red x's. "but it seems like you do need help, kid. a 42 is shitty."

your eyes widen hearing those words fall from his mouth, clearing your throat and throwing him a chastising look when he meets your gaze; he only rolls them and moves his stare into the kid's beady, brown eyes.

"now don't waste my time and i won't waste yours. open your book," seonghwa demands, the coldness in his tone visibly throwing off the boy.

you feel your heart grow heavy at the student's dejected, frustrated face, your chest burning with the need to yell at and scold seonghwa.

because that's the last way to approach a child already struggling and getting in trouble by his teachers and parents. 

he needs to be shown the problem in different ways until he finds out which one works for him and that's through someone's patience, kindness and genuine desire to help them - which is exactly what you tell seonghwa when 4:30 rolls around.

"thanks for the advice, y/n, but i think i'll be getting this shit over with my own way," he says, glaring at you before he attempts to leave.

you're quick to squeak out "wait," walking around until you're standing in front of him.

"look, i know you probably don't wanna be here," you tell him softly, gently, like the way you talk to kids who also don't wanna be doing work they don't understand. "but you can't take it out on them. you need to at least be nice and try to help him not only pass but also understand it. that's the whole-"

"I could give a shit if the kid passes or not," he snaps at you, pinched glare roaming over your face. "we're all not perfect little angels like you, y/n."

he's known you since elementary school, has watched you parade around with ugly sweaters and books and entertain the kids people avoid because they either spit on you when they talk or go on for hours about nonsense.

some people might find that commendable, that you give everyone a chance and seem to be completely pure and good, but he finds it incredibly irritating - he always had, watching you grow up through the years and feeling some sense of pity for you. 

because no one could genuinely be that kind and unbothered by the fact that they have no friends. that they smile in the faces of their bullies and give even the weirdest of kids the time of day.

"that's not why i'm saying it, seonghwa," you tell him softly. "i just want you to take this seriously. these kids need help."

"they need help when you're the one tutoring kids for fun," seonghwa scoffs, feeling himself grow more agitated and bitter as he talks down to you. "i don't know if you realize how sad that is."

but then in a strange twist of fate, it feels like you're the one talking down to him. because you can only find it in you to shake your head at him and meet his tense gaze.

"more sad than you needing to be forced to help anyone but yourself?"

whether he wants to admit it or not, your comment rings in his head for the rest of the day. he knows he's selfish and a bit of a dick but hearing it put so bluntly to his face causes his chest to churn uncomfortably.

"what does that bitch know anyway?" hongjoong coughs out after passing him a joint. "she's been a tight ass since birth."

"and it's only gotten worse with age," san says before he lets out a thoughtful hum. "but you know... she'd probably be hot if she wasn't such a prude."

the two boys in front throw him a disgusted look, seonghwa blowing smoke directly in the boy's face. 

"you're that desperate for a fuck, huh?"

san swats at the smoke around his face, rolling his eyes at his friends glassy, red eyes. 

"no! i'm just saying."

seonghwa can only picture you in his mind, sporting your ugly green sweater and worn sneakers, bare face looking at him with wide, innocent eyes and softly spoken words.

"don't see it," the boy grumbles out, hongjoong snorting next to him as he reaches out to grab the joint back.

"you know he could be on to something though," the driver says, placing the paper between his lips. "it's always the quiet ones who are freaks."

"ha, like you'd know pussy boy," san says, earning a loud smack on his mouth. 

seonghwa can only smirk at his two friends, knowing damn well you're the type of girl who's probably gonna die a virgin.

"so what do you know about acute triangles?" seonghwa asks the boy, clenching his fists under the table because how fucking hard is it to remember this?

he'd been working with him for almost two weeks now and he's been slowly making progress. 

some would say that the improvement in itself was a good sign but seonghwa was convinced if the boy had someone more cut out for this, he would've learned it by now.

he wouldn't be staring down at the blank paper with a questioning gaze on his face or religiously spend the first thirty minutes in a tense silence.

"there are....three angles," the boy says, uncertainty laced in his tone; seonghwa can only nod his head because wow, yeah, good job.

"okay. and what about them?"

the boy swallows nervously, eyes boring in to his like he's gonna help him out - he only stares back blankly, raising his eyebrow challengingly. 

and once the student sees that, remembers seonghwa's harshly spoken words reminding him to pay attention in class so they can both stop this bullshit, he blurts out "i don't know!"

seonghwa lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. the boy lets out a loud, frustrated groan, throwing his pencil across the room and springing up from his chair.

"fuck this! this is so stupid!"

you watch as seonghwa just stares at the boy with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest and you just know he's trying not to roll his eyes or scream back. 

before the man can say anything 'comforting' back, the younger student stomps off and rips open the library door.

several other kids softly murmur to each other before they get back to work, your eyes moving to seonghwa who hasn't uncrossed his arms. you quietly tell the student you're working with to try the next problem by themselves, walking over to seonghwa and taking the previously occupied seat.

"he's just frustrated," you tell him softly, hoping to ease the obvious tension on seonghwa's face and body. 

you had trouble when you first started too, remember feeling dejected and upset that the kids would get mad, and thinking that you couldn't help them.

his eyes flicker to meet yours but he's quick to look away, seeing the soft compassion and care in them; it always makes him uncomfortable when someone doesn't look at him in disgust or annoyance.

"what do you want from me?"

he misses your face fall ever so slightly, a quiet sigh leaving your mouth as you shrug your shoulders. 

"i just wanna help you, seonghwa," you tell him softly, knowing it's important for both of them to get something out of this. "it might help teaching him in a different way. maybe something he can relate to more."

"and how do you recommend i do that, princess?" he snarls at you, shoving his seat back and stomping towards the exit. 

you notice the head teacher's about to say something when you catch his gaze and shake your head slowly; to your surprise, he lets the boy go with a simple roll of his eyes.

you continue working with your student until 4:30 rolls around, your eyes occasionally moving to the empty table and library door. neither seonghwa nor his student ever came back and it causes a sinking feeling in your stomach.

you wait around for five extra minutes, cleaning the tables and putting your books away before figuring both of the unmotivated boys just ditched. as you're walking out the door to your car, you hear the familiar sound of a basketball bouncing off the gym floor.

so, albeit nosily, you peek your head in and feel your lips quirk up when you see seonghwa's tall frame next to the boy. the two of them are standing a few feet away from the hoop, a rare hint of a smile on the man's face as the both of them move around the floor.

"so this would be a....?" you hear seonghwa ask, the boy immediately responding with "acute angle! and it's less than 90 degrees," who then proceeds to take the ball from him and shoot; in a tragic turn of events, he misses.

seonghwa lets out a playful scoff as he catches the ball with ease.

"used all your brain power for that you can't even get it in, huh?" he teases, throwing the ball with one hand and watching with a cocky smirk as it shoots through.

"you're a showoff," the boy mumbles and you bite your lip so you don't let out a giggle, watching as seonghwa dribbles the ball away from the boy who chases after him. 

you leave the gym as chuckles ring through the air, feeling your heart tug at the fact in all the years you've known seonghwa, you think that’s the first time you've heard him laugh.

you're surprised to see his good mood carries over into the next day. 

sure, he's not being overly happy or nice but he's genuinely helping the student with his work, a focused expression and strong voice as he explains the problems slowly. 

you try to contain your smile, thinking maybe your hope in him isn't misplaced until you decide to tell him he's doing a good job.

"what?"

"you're working well with him," you say softly, turning to wave at the boy when you hear him say goodbye to you both. "he really seems to be getting better."

"yeah," is all he says, tone clipped and short. 

you look over to see his jaw is tight, body defensive and on alert so it's probably in your best interest to not mention you seeing them in the gym yesterday.

"it's hard at first for everyone,” you continue encouragingly. “but then i think once you break that barrier, it's gonna get-"

"why are you talking to me, y/n?"

his short, harsh tone causes your face to fall and for a split second, he feels bad. 

he knows you're just doing what you always do, showing people unwavering decency and kindness, but those are things he, both, can't relate to and finds makes him uncomfortable. 

he doesn’t want you to think just because he helped one kid out that means he's a reformed pupil.

"i just wanted to-"

"well don't," he says, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "it's bad enough i have to do this. i don't need you talking down to me also."

"i'm not talking down to you/ it's called encouragement, seonghwa."

"then don't encourage me. just ignore me the way i intend to ignore you." 

you're left alone in the library watching the door slam behind him.

and true to his word, he doesn't look your way or entertain conversation with you for the rest of the week. anytime your eyes meet, he'd quickly advert them and makes sure to be out the door the second the clock strikes 4:30.

and today, as you rush to your car in the pouring rain, you mull over in your head what you could have possibly done to the boy to make him so wary of you. 

time and time again, you've just tried to help him. give him advice and make the whole process easier for him but he just lashes out.

then again, you haven't done anything to the general population at school and they still make fun of you. and it's for the stupidest of things: your 'grandma sweaters' apparently the bane of their existence or the fact that you're studious and care about your schoolwork.

you don't allow their words to get to you, though, because you were taught to always be kind and respect others. that if people are mean to you, it's because they're unhappy about something within themselves.

even so, a part of you has always been intrigued by park seonghwa, whether it be because of his obvious good looks or some feeling deep within you that knows he's not as bad as he portrays himself to be. 

through the rain as you think, you see the drenched boy, hood up and head down, as he walks on the sidewalk.

you don’t even think twice about pulling up next to him, roll down your window and ignore the way he side-eyes you.

"do you want a ride?" you ask him quietly, surprised he's even heard you over the roar of the rain; but he's quick to shake his head silently and continue on his way. 

you let out a sigh before following behind him, asking him one more time because he really is drenched and it's starting to get dark and cold.

"you're gonna get sick," you say to him, causing the boy to stop in his tracks and stare you down.

"and what does that matter to you?"

you only raise your eyebrow at him, reaching over to open the door and smiling softly as an invitation. he rolls his eyes as he huffs, looking down at his drenched sneakers and feeling it seep into his socks.

some part deep within him feels ashamed to accept your kindness after the way he's treated you but he gets in and slams the door anyway. a real stand up guy he is.

"happy?" he grumbles. 

you only smirk as you hum softly, eyes peering down to the seatbelt buckle before going back to the road. you feel his gaze on you as you drive, a loud huff leaving him after you stop at the third stop sign.

"what?" you ask, looking both ways before taking your foot off the break.

"how the hell do you get anywhere," he grunts out in annoyance, feeling around in his pocket for a cigarette and agitated when he finds he doesn't have a pack on him.

"it appears i drive like a grandmother, too," you mumble, a snort leaving his nose as he shakes his head.

a few moments of silence pass before you stop at a red light. 

"i don't get you," he suddenly says, causing you to look over at him.

"what do you mean?"

"you really just... don't care about what other people think of you?"

you can't help but smile at the puzzled expression on his face, shrugging your shoulders as you look at him. 

"no."

his eyebrow raises, something about your soft, small smile causing him to squirm in his seat. 

"why not?"

"because why do they matter?" you ask quietly. "while i can, i'm gonna live the way i want."

a quiet hum leaves the boy's mouth, at the time not realizing how strange that sentence was coming from a teenage girl.

he just couldn't understand how a young person would want to live such a sad, quiet life between the covers of books and walls of church. how someone could go on smiling and being happy when they had no friends to make memories with.

"seems like a sad way to live," is all he finds himself saying, a smirk playing at your lips as your brain quips back with a sassy comment - but because you're you, your mouth doesn't open to respond. 

you simply shrug your shoulders again, looking back at the light just as it turns green.

the rest of the ride is silent as you make your way to seonghwa's, asking him a few times for directions until your car is sitting in front of his house.

"thanks, y/n."

"you're welcome, seonghwa."

he turns to you to see your gaze already on him, his eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. you send him a small, innocent, almost unsure smile and he feels himself grow less guarded.

"i'll see you monday?" you ask, slightly uncomfortable by the silence as you two just look at each other with uncertainty. 

the boy next to you shakes himself out of his daze, stuttering out "y-yeah.”

he slams your door shut, not hearing your car pull away until he opens the door to his house.

after your tutoring session, you stayed behind at 4:30 to make a study guide for your student and expected to be the only one there - which is why you were surprised to hear footsteps coming your way and even more surprised when you met the familiar dark eyes of-

"seonghwa," you say as you put your pen down on the table. "what're you still doing here?"

"i could ask you the same thing," he says, peeking at the paper before taking the seat across from you.

that's when you knew he was about to ask for something, like a pardon from this 'stupid volunteer work' (as if you have the authority to do that) or to cover for him one day this week so he can go do whatever normal destruction he does on the weekdays.

because in all the years you've known park seonghwa, he has never initiated a conversation with you.

"i'm making a study guide for my student," you tell him. "she's still having a bit of trouble so i'm hoping this will help her."

he nods his head at you, resting his elbows on the table as he watches you write with concentration for a few silent minutes. 

"but i know you don't care about that," you say to him quietly before meeting his intense gaze. "so why are you here?"

he lets out a sigh, running his hand through his hair that seems to be out of nervousness - but in what kind of sick, confused world is a man like him nervous to talk to a girl like you?

"i need your help with something."

your eyebrow raises as you look at him, dropping your pen on the table and the noise echoes through the quiet, empty library.

"is... park seonghwa asking for my help?"

he rolls his eyes before blankly staring at you, the dead look in his eye causing you to giggle softly. 

"what do you need help with?"

your giggle and soft tone relax him ever so slightly, popping his neck to the side and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics. 

"i'm- uh, i'm supposed to write a play for my class."

"okay..." you say as you nod your head. "and you need help...writing it? editing it? coming up with ideas?"

his mind starts to swarm with slight panic and uncertainty, completely out of his element and comfort zone. he doesn't know the first thing about writing fucking plays, you couldn't pay him enough money to even sit through one.

"uh...all of it," he says with a wince. "but i know you're like... a theater geek."

you can't help the snort that leaves you, shaking your head as you look at the boy in front of you. 

"a theater geek?"

"not like that," he says, tone desperate and unsure and you can hear how uncomfortable he is asking for help. "i just mean like you're probably...good at that stuff."

"ahh, because i'm a big fat nerd, right?"

his eyes close at the horrific turn this has taken; he can't even ask you for help without insulting you. 

"i didn't mean it like that, y/n."

you watch him for a few moments, hands in his hair as his leg starts to bounce and you decide to finally put him out of his misery. 

“i'm just kidding. i'll help you."

his head snaps up immediately, face once ridden by anxiety and panic full of surprise and relief. "really?!"

"really," you say with a smile. "but i'm only gonna assist you. you have to do most of it, okay?"

"yeah, right, of course," he grunts out, already bored and over this conversation.

"and you have to take it seriously. on the days we do it, you're gonna have to be focused, seonghwa."

"i wouldn't have put myself through this and asked you if i wasn't gonna take it seriously," he grumbles, watching you furrow your eyebrows at him and quickly realizing he's falling into his dick-ish ways before mumbling out an apology. 

"i mean, of course, yeah."

"thank yo-," he says before you cut him off.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly.  he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart; but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

everything in him stills as he looks at you, trying to figure out if you're joking with him until he sees how seriously you're looking at him. he almost feels bad at the blatant laugh that bubbles out of him, his hand coming up to (fakely) wipe his mouth.

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem," he says, humor and amusement heavy in his tone. it doesn't make you feel bad because you just nod your head and shrug your shoulders.

"okay!"

"okay," he says a few seconds later, a small grateful smile on his face. "thank you, y/n."

"you're welcome."

you can't help but smile back because it really seems as if he's trying to better himself now. 

apply himself more and show people that he's more than just some 'cool' guy who gets in trouble. he asked for help and that's the first step in anything required to get better and grow as person.

but sometimes people will ask for help, receive help, and it still won't be enough. 

because just the next day, you see him in the cafeteria with his group of friends. and perhaps it was ballsy of you in the first place to see him and hold his eye contact and greet him with a smile that only led him to divert his gaze.

that should've made it obvious that going over to him was not gonna be a good idea.

but you thought you were seeing a change in him, you were so excited to see him work with the students and take an initiative to do his project, so you walk over and say hi to him.

"hi, seonghwa," you say sweetly, waving at his friends who just look at you with a bewildered expression. "do you wanna start working on your play after tutoring today?"

the second him and his friends let out sarcastic laughs, you know he's about to disappoint you.

"i think you're lost, princess," he says, tone full of venom and spite. "we'd never do anything together."

"unless, of course, you're willing to show him what's under that sweater," his friend next to him says, his eyes roaming over your body and making you back up uncomfortably.

"hongjoong," the tallest one says warningly, like he's probably the only good one within this group.

"oh fuck off yunho, she needs a little fun."

your eyes never leave seonghwa's, the tight, hard look melting slightly since his bickering friends are now distracted. the change in them doesn't make you feel any better, instead nodding your head at him and quietly saying "okay, never mind then. sorry."

the fact that you apologize makes him feel like a piece of shit for the rest of the day, even caused him to lash out at hongjoong for saying that pervy comment to you and then get kicked out of his last class.

which is how he catches you right before tutoring starts at 3:15, grabbing you by the elbow and ushering you into the tiny computer lab against your softly-spoken protests. 

he closes the door behind him and turns to see you staring at him blankly.

"just hear me out, y/n."

"i don't think there's anything to hear out," you tell him softly. "you made it obvious you don't need my help anymore."

you're about to go around him when he grabs your arm again, your body stiffening immediately causing him to let go. 

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have done that."

it's like the fact that he knows it was wrong is making it worse. he knew it would hurt you and make him look bad but he did it anyway to prove a point to his friends.

"but you did," you say quietly. "and i know you don't care, seonghwa, but i really thought you were trying to be better."

he lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance; he really knows how to fuck things up.

"i was. i am. that's why i need your help. please y/n."

a group of kids come barreling through, the girl you're working with catching your eye as she takes a seat at the normal table. you meet seonghwa's gaze that's staring down at you, eyes regretful and tense.

you know it's only because now he's not getting something out of you, not because he genuinely cares about you being upset and disappointed.

"the drama teacher is really nice," you tell him softly, sending him a small smile as you tighten your bag around your shoulder. "you could probably sit in with her and get some pointers."

"but i wanted you to-"

he can't even finish his sentence when you move passed him and out the door, his body whirling around to see you wave at the curious younger girl. 

he watches you meet his gaze once more before they flicker back down to the table, your heart sinking every so slightly because you were stupid to think he was capable of changing.

seonghwa was shocked by how much it annoyed him that you were ignoring him. 

that anytime he tried to get your attention, you would just smile dismissively and busy yourself. that you no longer lingered at the end of the day or gave him words of praise and encouragement that used to piss him off so badly.

it, oddly enough, made the next few weeks drag on even longer, his afternoons now an even more dull and dreary experience.

that's why on friday, purely out of selfishness, he ended his session with the boy five minutes early and waited outside the library like some sort of creep; if this was the only way to talk to you, it appeared he was gonna do it.

you open the door to leave, fishing through your backpack for the keys buried at the bottom, and look up just in time so you don't smack right into seonghwa's large frame.

"hi."

you narrow your eyes at him, his body and face lacking its usual confidence and smugness.

"hi."

the two of you just look at one another, your eyes confused and awaiting while his hold a twinge of insecurity and nervousness.

you had been making it a point to steer clear of him these past weeks, dodging him in the hallways and cafeteria when you noticed him and completely avoiding his presence during tutoring.

"are you gonna make me beg?"

your eyebrows shoot up at his lowly spoken words, head turning to the side in confusion. 

"what?"

"i miss your stupid encouragement, okay," he blurts out suddenly. "and i miss talking to you. i want...i want you to help me with my play."

you let out a shaky exhale, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to gauge his mood. he could just be saying all of this to get what he wants and make his life easier.

"what's wrong with the drama teacher?" you ask him. "she's nice. i'll even ask her if you can-”

"she's not you."

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, panicking slightly at how your heart and stomach just reacted; you should not be so effected by him after the way he's treated you.

"that's kind of the point," you tell him, voice strong despite the way you're shaking inside. "it seems as if that's what you wanted the other week."

he lets out an annoyed huff, taking a few steps closer to you and looking straight at you. 

"that was wrong and i'm sorry, y/n, i am," he says to you, watching your gaze soften as he all but begs you. "but i'm trying here. and i need your help."

you truly take the time to assess him, look him up and down to gauge if he really is trying -  you suppose you won't really be able to tell until you start working with him though. 

and you can't ignore the fact that, no matter how he's treated you or anyone else, he's here and genuine and asking for help again.

a sigh leaves your mouth as you shake your head at him, cursing the fact that's he's not only handsome but persuasive (or at least sly enough to pick the right victims that can't say no to helping people).

the silence that stretches between you two makes him ready to jump out of his skin, not knowing at all what to make of your flickering eyes and blank expression.

he nearly topples over when you mutter out “fine. but all the same conditions still apply, seonghwa. even if you're...embarrassed to be seen with me, we still have to do the work and-"

"i'm not embarrassed," he's quick to clarify, your eyebrow shooting up at his blatant lie. "i'm not," he repeats.

you shake your head at him before taking out your car keys and swirling them around your finger. 

"well, whatever, it doesn't even matter," you tell him quietly. "just get ready to start working next week, okay?"

the boy nods, thanking you one more time and feeling a twinge in his chest when you smile back and send him a little wave. 

he didn't expect to feel so much lighter after the conversation, no longer having a pit in his stomach or hearing that small voice in the back of his head scream at him.

but because he's not completely reformed, he distracts himself with one of the many girls interested in him or with his friends as they smoke and drive around their boring little town.

the boring little town that has an eerie little cemetery just a few blocks from his house.

most days when he walks home, he goes the opposite way because there's something very unsettling to him about death and dying and mourning. he hadn't dealt with any loss in his life properly, going off the rails when his dad left and then again with alcohol and drugs when his grandpa died.

he was actually buried right in that cemetery and for whatever reason that sunday night, something was telling him to pass by and visit.

he turns the corner and catches the sight of your hair, stopping in his tracks to watch as you open the old, iron gate and walk right in the dark cemetery alone.

"what are you doing," he mumbles curiously to himself, his interest fully peaked as he speeds up his footsteps to follow after you.

he watches you weave in and out of the headstones, backpack in one hand and blanket in the other as you stand in front of a tombstone and bow your head to pray.

if anything makes him more uncomfortable than death, it's religion. 

maybe because he's not sure himself what or who he believes in, fascinated by people who can fully put all of their faith in something that has no proof. 

regardless, he waits until you raise your head and lay out your blanket, placing a few books down next to you as you sit criss-cross style in front of the tombstone.

"so this is how you live on the edge huh? sneaking around a cemetery at night."

you jump at the teasing, deep voice, snapping your head to the side and smiling slightly at the sight of seonghwa. 

he's dressed in his usual all black, a sliver chain hanging from his neck and a beanie over his dark hair - devastatingly handsome, per usual.

"no sneaking," you tell him. "but that's you, apparently. i didn't even hear you come in."

he shrugs his shoulders as he sticks his hands in his pockets, eyes curiously taking in his surroundings. you watch him look around the cemetery with slight discomfort, his eyes focused on the back corner where a large oak tree stands.

"so were you actually following me?" you ask him, causing him to rip his gaze and look down at you. "or are you here to see someone?"

a few beats of silence pass before he answers.

"would it be weird to admit i followed you?"

a smile covers your face, teeth in your bottom lip as you try to contain a laugh. 

"not much weirder than me spending my sunday night in a cemetery, i suppose."

a short, deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rocks on his feet, looking down at his boots so you don't see his own smile forming. 

"guess that's true,” he mutters lowly but you’re able to somehow catch it. he looks up when he hears your hand tapping on the blanket-covered ground. 

"you can sit, if you want."

for whatever reason, he accepts the invitation immediately. he keeps a good distance between the both of you, his butt just hanging off the edge as he can't help but stare at the headstone in front of him.

he wouldn't dare ask about it because how can he just so casually ask which dead relative of yours you're sitting in front of?

"my mom," you say quietly, because it's hard not to know what he's thinking. "she died giving birth to me."

his eyes widen at your confession, a low curse leaving his mouth. 

"shit."

you nod your head, placing your chin on your hand as you look at the death date. 

"yeah. it's always a little weird to see my birthday as the day she died."

seonghwa watches your face as you look at the tombstone, surprised not to see sadness or sorrow but the same look of compassion and pureness that always seems to be on your face. 

and now with the glow of the moon on you, he's realizing that you are kind of pretty. in a unique, natural way but pretty nonetheless.

if he thought he was surprised to be thinking these thoughts at a moment like this, he's even more surprised when he finds himself asking, "why do you come here then?"

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, it’s also something that some get uncomfortable with or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. you don’t want him to misconstrue your gaze on him so you quickly look back at the grave as you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll just read."

he nods his head again, looking over at the grave and wondering how much this piece of stone has heard about your life.

do you tell it how people treat you at school? how much you volunteer your time to help others and make them better? maybe even how you've been trying to help him but might see him as a lost cause.

he hears the sound of a paper rustling and turns his head to see you, pen in hand, scribbling down something on your book; even though it's nosy and intrusive, he peaks over out of curiosity.

"bucket list?" he asks aloud. 

a smirk pulls at your lips as you nod your head silently, scribbling down a #4 on the page.  "do you have one?" you ask him quietly, meeting his eyes that are boring into the side of your face.

"can't say i do," he hum, "although i definitely have a lot of stuff i wanna do."

"like what?" you ask, trying not to show just how interested you are in finally getting to know something about this elusive boy. it falls flat when you see him lower his head and shrug his shoulders, immediately closing himself back up.

"i don't know," he mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed and on the spot.

you let out a small giggle, turning the page and ripping out a piece of paper before handing it to him. he looks down in surprise before taking it from your hands, your fingertips brushing and he can't help but notice how cold your skin is.

"writing it down might help."

you place the pen in between you both, letting the book lie on your lap as you lean back on your hands; his eyes can't help but fall down to peak at the page.

"fall in love, get married, see the ocean," you hear his deep voice read before he sees ".....get a tattoo?!" he asks, voice raising slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"is that so hard to believe?" you ask, a mock expression of hurt on your face. he chuckles trying to picture you with a sleeve of tattoos, your pastel pink sweater rolled up your arms and showcasing an array of colors.

"kind of, yeah," he laughs out, smiling when your own giggles rings through the cold night air.

"why do you even have one though?" he asks a few moments later, trying to distract himself from the way your giggle just made his heart swell. 

"don't only people who are like..." he cringes as he remembers you are both sitting surrounding by corpses. "don't you only make these when you're gonna die? get news that you have like a year left to live or something?"

and just like in the car that day, he doesn't think about how sadly cryptic your answer is. how odd the dreary words sound coming from the mouth of a high school girl whose only cares should be about prom or college acceptance letters.

"i could only have a year left to live," you tell him softly. "i could even only have a month left. you never really know, do you?"

he can only nod his head, furrowing his eyebrows because while your words ring true. 

"that's pretty fucking morbid, y/n."

a small chuckle leaves your mouth at his profanity, shrugging your shoulders as you turn around to look at him. 

"i guess but it's true though," you say, moving your hands side to side like you're showcasing a house and not a cemetery full of rotting bodies. "after all, look around."

a loud, surprised laugh leaves seonghwa's mouth as he looks at you, shaking his head half in amusement and half in astonishment - he’s never met anyone like you in his life.

"good point," he says, biting down on his lips desperate to quirk up into a large grin.

it's an odd place and time to spend the rest of the night sharing shy smiles and glances but it happens nonetheless.

by the end of the night, you're both convinced of something: you only further confirming your suspicions that this boy is so much more than the person he portrays himself to be and seonghwa thinking that maybe grandma sweaters and bucket lists aren't that bad after all.

the more you talked and spent time with seonghwa, the more you saw how great he was. 

you figured that night at the cemetery was a fluke, that if you ever dared mentioning it or tried to make it happen again he’d laugh in your face or feign confusion. 

so the surprise that ran through you when, at lunch, he plopped down in the seat across from you was truly overwhelming. you had looked side to side in confusion, thinking that maybe his friends all went out or that your budding friendship was all one big practical joke.

but his friends looked just as confused, eyebrows pinched together as they whispered and hit one another.

“your friend’s look confused,” you say quietly. “you should probably go back.” 

but without missing a beat, he just shrugs and takes out a tattered black notebook.

“fuck them.”

your eyes widen at his vulgarity, watching him with a curious, slightly cautious gaze before it softens as he meets your eyes. he holds out his book for you, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“i...wrote some of the beginning last night. do you wanna read it?”

the smile that lights up your face has that familiar twinge in his heart appearing, excitedly nodding as your fingertips brush when you take it. 

“the prologue,” you correct him gently as you read his opening lines. 

“the what?” he asks. 

a little giggle leaves your mouth as you continue to read, missing the way his eyes soften as he looks at you with admiration - but his friends don’t miss it. 

don’t miss the way he chooses to sit with you everyday for the next few weeks, the way your hands brush as you make edits on your paper and the way his eyes never leave you as you read over his corrections. 

“i’m gonna ask you straight up,” mingi asks when he’s over seonghwa’s one night. “what’s going on with you and church girl?”

the boy can only look up from his notebook, shaking out his aching hand as he raises his eyebrow at the boy. 

“what?” 

the taller boy can only roll his eyes, going over to the open window as he lights a cigarette. 

“you like her.”

“mingi...” seonghwa says warningly, not wanting to get into this right now; they’d been giving him shit every chance they got, poking fun at his newfound desire to succeed in school.

“i’m not giving you shit, i just wanna know,” the boy says, “because it seems pretty obvious.”

seonghwa rests his feet on his desk as he looks over at the boy, letting out a sigh when he sees how genuine and indifferent he looks. 

“i might,” he says because it’s a fact he’s been mulling over since that night at the cemetery. 

ever since then, he’s been overwhelmingly eager to see you and please you. 

he keeps wanting to show you time and time again that he’s capable of doing this work and tutoring the kids. keeps wanting to see that happy smile that lights up your face or your soft voice squealing about how good his play is coming along.

“you might,” mingi laughs out, blowing smoke out the window as he shakes his head. “you absolutely do.” 

“i’m gonna push you out that fucking window,” seonghwa grunts, a smirk crossing the boy’s face as he shakes his head.

“that’s not very holy of you,” his friend says, sarcasm and teasing in his tone. “what ever would y/n say if she found out you-” 

mingi’s words are quickly cut off by high-pitched yells as he watches a cup of pencils and pens go hurling towards him. 

and whether it be a twist of fate or just pleasant circumstances, tutoring sessions on one friday afternoon are cancelled for construction in the library. 

the both of you look at one another and somehow know it’s mutually decided that you’re gonna work elsewhere, even though it’s friday and there’s a party going on at his friend san’s house.

“we only have to work for an hour,” you tell him as you guys step outside the school. “i know there’s a party tonight.”

“do you wanna come with me?” he blurts out before he can even stop himself, shocking the both of you. 

the boy would laugh at the terrified, wide-eyed expression on your face if he wasn’t so thrown off by how quickly and impulsively he asked that. 

“i...uh...don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say quietly, eyes trained on the floor shyly. you nearly fall right down when you feel his hand on your jaw, lifting your face so your glossy, nervous eyes meet his.

“nobody would mess with you if i was there,” he says lowly, the protective, confident words causing you to swallow nervously. you only shake your head slightly, the feeling of his hand on your face so foreign and bare-minimum but sending your heart into overdrive. 

“it’s not that, i’m just... i wouldn’t do well there.”

i wouldn’t be allowed.

his eyes search yours for any hint of a lie, that maybe you actually wanna go but fear that stupid girls or guys would make fun of you for whatever idiotic reason they can think of tonight. 

your small smile assures him even further.

“i probably wouldn’t do well there tonight, either then,” he says, your eyebrows furrowing as you look at his eyes shining with certainty. you’re about to ask him to clarify when he removes his hold on your face, taking your smaller hand in his cautiously.

“what are you-”

“you drive here today?” he asks and you can only find it in you to shake your head. 

“we’ll walk to my house then?” 

you stare blankly at him before looking down at your intertwined hands, feeling a blush creep on your face as you’re successfully rendered speechless. 

you hadn’t really know what to expect or feel holding someone’s hand but it definitely wasn’t this feeling of closeness and warmth and excitement. 

when you look up and he sees the pinkness on your cheeks, he can’t help but smile. 

seonghwa looks down at you questioningly, raising his eyebrow and looking at you until you stutter out “ye-yeah that’s..good.” he intertwines your fingers and pulls you along the sidewalk, holding your hand and occasionally looking down at you the entire way to his house. 

he ends up missing the party that night in exchange for writing, editing and playfully rehearsing his lines with you. his chuckle fills the room when you dramatically read his lines, giggles leaving your mouth when he cringes at the fact he wrote some of this dialogue. 

he drove you home after the sun had set, your hands intertwined as they rest on the console. shy gazes and quiet giggles fill the car, your softly spoken “goodnight seonghwa,” ringing through his head for the rest of the night. 

and then much to his dismay, after three months of preparation and work with you, his play was due. 

you had worked together in the library one last time, your encouragement and assurance that he would absolutely get an a filling the boy with an unfamiliar feeling of pride and excitement. 

he had worked hard, you both had worked hard, and he’d never been so excited to hand in an assignment in his life; it all had paid off because he was able to showcase a big, 100% to you in red ink.

“seonghwa!” you squeal, clapping your hands in the empty library and throwing your arms around him without a second thought. “i told you you were gonna do amazing!”

he can’t even think about your words with your arms around him, the feeling of your body against him the final confirmation for him that he 100% absolutely likes you (as mingi so juvenilely put).

you feel his body stiffen and realize what you’ve done, quickly drawing your arms back and flushing as you quietly apologize. 

but just as the words leave, his arms are around you and your head rests on his chest. once you’ve recovered from the shock, you allow your own arms to slowly go back around him, the two of standing in the empty library wrapped in each other’s arms. 

it’s a strangely intimate hug for just a good grade on a paper, your arms tight and hearts pounding as you feeling a buzzing in the air changing everything you’ve worked to build over these past months. 

“do one more thing for me, y/n?” you hear him lowly ask in your ear. 

you meet his gaze nervously, biting your lip as you stare at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “what?” you squeak, your voice barely coming out. 

“let me take you on a date.”

convincing your father to allow you on a date was one thing but convincing your father to allow you on a date with park seonghwa was damn near impossible. 

“dad,” you whine for the twentieth time that day.

“y/n, i’m telling you, i’m not comfortable with this.”

“you’re not even giving him a chance, dad,” you tell him softly at the table, your eyes trained on the clock that reads 6:50. “he’s gonna be here in ten minutes.”

whether your dad approved or not, you were going on this date. 

you had gone your whole life without dating or boys or even having a crush and now you were overwhelming ready to try it out. despite your nervousness and despite the fact you have absolutely no experience, you’re excited.

seonghwa has brought out something in you that was suppressed for so long, that you only read about in books or watched in other couples - now with your shy smiles and intertwined hands under the table at lunch, you’re convinced that he’s your first love. 

“y/n, i’m uncomfortable with this for more than one reason,” he says, sadness and apprehension in his tone; it makes your heart sink a little bit. 

why does he have to bring this up now? why can’t he just let you have one night to be a normal teenager?

“why, dad?” you ask, voice far too even and calm even though you already know where this is headed. he can tell too, because he grabs your hand from across the table and squeezes it apologetically. 

“i’m not trying to upset you,” he says, “i just don’t know if you should start something when...”

“i’m fine though. i feel fine.” 

his face turns into one of shock and confusion, not once hearing you snap at him; that’s when he notices that you look...different. 

a short-sleeved dress over your figure with a hint of blush and mascara on your face. your eyes flickering to the clock and door before back to him and he feels his heart pull in his chest. 

“i know you do,” he says, pulling his hand back and running it through his thinning hair. “you didn’t tell him, did you?”

“of course not,” you quickly get out. “there’s no need to tell him.”

“no need to-” the words die in his throat so he doesn’t start a fight or upset you just minutes before your first date. 

he knows that if you actually accepted to go out with a boy, you have to like him and there has to be some sort of...connection between the two of you. 

“what if this gets more serious?”

a knock at the door causes you both to jump, your neck snapping over to see seonghwa’s handsome face through the window. 

“then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” you tell him, voice serious and hushed. “just... please be nice, okay? he’s important.”

and with that, your dad watches you open the door and greet seonghwa with a smile, ushering him in as you giggle when he says something lowly. you drag him over by the hand, seonghwa and your dad standing only a few inches away from one another a sight you’d truly thought you’d never see.

“hi sir,” seonghwa says, his voice deep but friendly as he outreaches his had. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m-”

“park seonghwa,” the older man finishes, taking the boy’s hand roughly and shaking it before dropping his hold. “i see your mother church every sunday but i can’t say the same for you.”

“dad,” you whisper, face flushing in embarrassment. 

“it’s okay, y/n,” seonghwa says quietly before he looks your dad in the face. “i...probably should go more but-”

“no need to explain yourself to me, i was just saying,” he tells him, watching the way seonghwa’s face falls slightly and you narrow your eyes at him. “where are you guys going tonight?”

“just dinner, like i told you,” you say, voice tight and arm grazing seonghwa in an attempt to bring him comfort; even if he doesn’t need comfort, you need his skin on yours to ground you. 

your dad meets his gaze, causing seonghwa to quickly confirm the plans.

“yeah, just dinner,” he says, comforted by your arm touching his. “i borrowed my mom’s car.”

a quiet hum leaves your dad’s mouth and seonghwa feels the nervous pit in his stomach growing, like he’s judging him for being a possible satanist who still borrows his mommy’s car.  

even if he was thinking that, he smiles warmly at the both of you before reminding him to have you home by ten. 

“will do, sir,” he says, already telling himself to have you home by 9:55 so if anything, he’s at least punctual. you all but drag seonghwa out of the house, waving to your dad and thanking the boy quietly when he opens the car door for you. 

he starts the car and there’s a few moments of silence before he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“he hates me.”

you let out a soft giggle as you shake your head, tapping his arm playfully. 

“he doesn’t, he’s just...protective.” 

seonghwa only looks at you, completely unconvinced if the blank stare he’s giving you is any indication. 

“okay, maybe a little,” you agree softly, the boy rolling his eyes away from you despite the smile on his face. 

you watch him drive and admire his sharp features, wondering how and why on earth this boy asked you on a date in the first place. he turns to look at you when the light turns red, his eyebrow quirked up when he sees you’re staring at him. 

“what?”

“nothing,” you say, shaking your head before you shyly say. “i just can’t believe you asked me on a date.”

he bites his lip to hide his smile, taking his hand off the wheel and taking your hand in his. 

“you look pretty,” he says suddenly, causing you to sharply inhale and nearly choke on air. 

you never imagined someone other than a family member or elderly woman at church calling you pretty, completely thrown off and unsure how to respond. the pinkness creeping up on your cheeks is a dead give away that it’s effecting you, his eyes roaming over your face as his smile finally breaks through.

“really pretty.”

and so you don’t completely go mute and dumb, you tease “it’s just because i’m not in a grandma sweater.” 

he only rolls his eyes and taps you on the nose. “i’ve come to really like those grandma sweaters.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth and he can only smirk as he looks back at the road. 

the light turns green and your heart flutters ever so slightly when instead of disconnecting your hands, he brings it to his lips to press a soft, sweet kiss.

your hands don’t disconnect when he pulls up to the restaurant nor when you walk in and wait to be seated. 

you look around at the other couples in the area and that’s when it hits you that you’re one of them. that right now, you’re on your first date and have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. 

“what’re you looking at?” he quietly hums in your ear, watching you look around at the other young couples embraced in a handhold or back hug. 

“nothing,” you say quietly before looking up at him. “i just... i’ve never been on a date before.”

his lips press against your head and you hear him laugh against it, your eyebrows furrowing as you smack his stomach lightly. 

“stop laughing,” you whine.

“but you’re cute,” he hums lowly. 

he hears you let out a sigh and disconnects his lips from your head, taking your cheeks in his hands and ignoring the way your eyes widen at the contact.

“just take a breath for me, okay?” he says lowly, staring down at your wide-eyed gaze and feeling such an overwhelming desire to kiss you. “it’ll be fine. there’s nothing to worry about.”

“but i don’t kn-”

“seonghwa, table for two,” a female voice interrupts. his eyes widen teasingly as a quiet gasp leaves his mouth. “let’s go, baby.”

and, of course, he was right. 

it was fine. 

the second you sat down and looked over the menus, you fell into a natural and teasing conversation that carried on for the rest of the date. everything was always light-hearted and fun, never delving into serious topics or issues. 

he paid the bill after eyeing you the second you pulled out your wallet, a blush crossing your face as you quietly mumble out your gratitude. he took your hand in his, you shyly looking down and watching your fingers intertwine as he leads you through the parking lot.

“where are we going now?” 

you look up at him and see him watching you with a small smirk, probably from the permanent blush on your face, and relishing in the fact that he’s the one that put it there. 

"you’ll see.”

the two of you walk hand-in-hand across the street, tiny squeals leaving your mouth as seonghwa abandons the crosswalk signs and runs straight across. low chuckles leave his mouth as he tightens his hold on your hand, dragging you in front of him and shaking his head.

“you think i’m gonna let you get hit by a car?”

“i just don’t know why you couldn’t wait,” you say, amusement in your voice. “do you have to always prove you’re just such cool rule-breaker?” 

his eyes widen at your uncharacteristic snark, a smirk playing at his lips that only makes your small, smug smile grow wider. 

“rule-breaker, huh?” he hums. “is that what you really think of me? i got a 100 on my play, you know.”

a laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you roll your eyes playfully, your heart soaring because you just know how proud he actually is of that. something about it is so cute, that he now knows he’s capable of succeeding and doing well.

“oh right, i’m sorry,” you tease, looking up at him to admire his smiling face in the setting sun. you don’t know if it’s just because you hadn’t known him well or only saw him in bad situations but you never noticed just how sweet his smile is. 

you see the exact moment something in his eyes change, your gaze following his before you let out at tiny gasp.

to all the places this boy could’ve taken you, like some sort of underground ring or a crazy house party, you’re both standing in front of-

“a playground?” you squeal, trying to contain the childlike excitement building in you. 

“yeah, is that stupid?” he asks, an unsure smile on his face as he looks down to gauge your reaction. he watches your eyes traveling from the swings and slides, feet wiggling beneath you and feels his heart soften even more. 

your neck then snaps up to look at him, a shy smile on your face as you quickly shake your head. 

“not at all,” you say, tightening your hold on his hand. “i just wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“and why’s that?” he asks, dipping his head ever so slightly as his words fan over your ear. “it’s against the rules to go into a playground at sunset.”

your eyes widen when you look up at, a tiny scoff leaving your mouth. but before you can get the words out to chastise him, he pulls you towards the fence that is short and easy enough for you both to climb over.

“are you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa asks, bent down with his hands on your knees, watching you breathe heavily as you sit on the swing.

the two of you had run around the playground like children, racing down the slide and then chasing after each other when one of you lost. 

you squealed as he caught you around the waist, his hands digging into your hips and nearly making your heart explode. he was always quick to loosen his hold and take his hands off of you afterward, demanding a rematch as you watch him run up the steps. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, leaning your head against the cold chain and flooding with relief. “just out of shape.”

a scoff leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he watches you carefully; you don’t look out of shape. 

“i’m fine, seonghwa,” you whine, feeling his gaze still on you. he only narrows his eyes, rubbing your exposed skin before standing up and plopping down on the swing next to you. 

the two of you swing in a comfortable silence for a few moments, admiring the dark sky and singing cicadas. head still on the chain, you turn yourself to look over at him and he must feel your gaze because he does the same, eyes roaming over you because he doesn’t like how lethargic you’ve become.

“thank you for asking me on this date,” your soft voice says suddenly. “i...i had a lot of fun.” 

he watches your cheeks warm with a smile, holding his hand out for you to grab again. 

you take it immediately, his eyebrows furrowing at how small and bony it feels in your hand - have you always been this small?

he pushes down the thoughts because he doesn’t wanna ruin this moment, be distracted from the soft smile on your lips and the pink on your cheeks.

“yeah?” he hums. “i felt some pressure, being that it was your first and all.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth as you shake your head. 

“well it was perfect so good job,” you say, “another 100.”

he snorts at your nerdy comment, turning his face away to hide his smile and look at the rest of the playground. 

he hadn’t come to this playground in years, remembering it so vividly from his childhood. how it seemed so big and scary, like some sort of deathtrap that he could only handle because he had someone next to him.

“i used to come here a lot, you know.”

“oh yeah?” you ask, voice happy and light as you picture a young, exuberant seonghwa. 

“mhm,” he hums, a lump suddenly in his throat as if it’s begging him not to say his next few words. some part of him wants to tell you, break down some unfamiliar, vulnerable side of him in an effort to show he really is trying for you. 

and what better way to do that than woefully spilling about his absent father? 

but then when he finally says, “i used to come here with my dad,” he wishes he hadn’t. it’s embarrassing and kind of humiliating to talk about these types of things with a person you’re starting to-

“that’s sweet,” you tell him softly, smiling over at him warmly. “he sounds like a good dad.”

“he left us a few years after.”

your body stills and veins run cold when those words leave his mouth, your heart tugging in your chest at the sad, short way he says it. 

“oh.”

an awkward chuckle leaves his mouth as your surprised response, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously in fear that he just ruined the vibe between you both. before he can try to backtrack, however the hell one could backtrack something like that, he feels your hand squeeze his. 

“i’m sorry.”

he looks over at your soft, sympathetic gaze and smiles sadly, feeling the overwhelmingly need to cup your cheek and brush over your soft skin.

“not your fault,” he says. 

you move further into his touch, swallowing at the way his eyes roam over your face.

“well, it’s not yours either,” you squeak out, unsure of what exactly to say to comfort him but wanting to so bad. 

because sometime within these months, you’ve discovered what a kind, sensitive person he actually is. how all of his troublesome behaviors and bullshit was just covering up for the fact he was sad and frustrated and maybe a little lonely.

he lets out a scoff, that overwhelming urge to kiss you coming back with a vengeance.

“where were you years ago,” he laughs out, thinking back to his middle school self creeping through the schoolyard and etching his rage onto the brick of the school. 

because for some reason, the boy had convinced himself it was all his fault.

that his dad had gotten tired of his bad grades and snarky backtalk and the fact that he never listened to him. it took him up until a few years ago, when the sadness turned to anger, that he knew his dad left purely due to the fact that he was just an asshole.

you smile sadly watching him stare blankly, knowing his mind is probably going to all sorts of sad places. to a time in his life where he blamed himself and didn't know how to properly cope. 

if you had known, you would've done what you did now. offer him your support and friendship and let him know someone will be there for him.

"i'm here now though," you remind him quietly, moving the swing back and forth, in sync with the way your thumb starts gently brushing over his hand. 

it's like he needed that touch to bring him back to reality, his blank eyes turning to look at you and wonder if you're even real.

the way he's looking at you causes you to nervously fidget, the intense softness of his gaze making your stomach and heart go into frenzy. so much so that you shyly look away, focusing on the way your hand always looks so small in his.

you feel him bring his swing closer to yours, holding himself right beside you and lifting your chin gently. his gaze immediately falls to your lips and you let out a shaky, nervous exhale, your eyes darting across his face because you've definitely read about this before.

the buzzing energy before a kiss, the way someone's eyes lower and tongues dart out to lick at their lips.

"i wanna kiss you," you hear him mumble, his eyes moving to yours and his heart dropping when he sees your wide-eyed gaze. he also sees a hint of curiosity though, a hint of the same desire and need in yours.

you swallow again, your own eyes falling to his lips before back up to him. 

"i... might be bad at it,” you whisper, voice caught in your throat.

if your statement didn't make his heart hurt in the best way possible, your eyes proved to be the bigger weakness. proved to make a smile spread across his face, a short chuckle leaving his mouth as he shakes his head at you.

"that's not possible," he hums, his gaze boring right into you, like he's waiting for any sort of permission. 

after you let out another shaky exhale and close your eyes, you feel his lips press lightly against yours.

and while it's a careful, slow kiss, it doesn't take away from the fact that it's perfect. 

that it makes your insides warm and flutter and brings an immediate blush to your face. that after a few moments, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and makes you feel like that was the nicest thing to ever happen to you.

you take a few calming breaths before opening your eyes, dropping them shyly when you see him looking right at you.

"see," he mumbles, placing a kiss on your cheek, and then the other, before a finishing one on the tip of your nose. "not possible."

a flustered, girlish giggle leaves your mouth that he can't help but also laugh at, rising from his spot on the swing before standing in front of you with his hand outreached.

"what?"

his lips turned into a frown before he kneels down in front of you again, placing his hands on your bony knees. 

"as much as i don't wanna leave you right now, i gotta get you home."

true to his word, he gets you home five minutes before ten, silently hoping your dad notices and logs in it the back of his mind where his lack of church attendance is also stored.

because even though he sleeps in on sundays and kissed his daughter two more times, he's really hoping he'll be okay when he comes to pick you for date number two next week.

date number two turned into date number six and then over the next few months, you both had started to lose count.

if you weren't together at your house, doing homework and midterm projects in the living room, you were at the cemetery or playground. 

leaned back against his chest on a blanket, his arms wrapped around your waist as he hums quietly against your head. his hands grazing the small of your back as he pushes you on the swing and watches you tip your head back in the air.

tonight's date, however, was a surprise. 

he had told you on monday to clear your schedule for saturday, silencing you with a peck of the lips any time you pressed him further. your constant questioning served to be of no use because even in the car on your way to the surprise, he wouldn't budge.

if anything, he made it worse by then whipping out a blindfold and securing it around your face at a red light.

"do you trust me?" he had asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you only let out a sigh, lips turning into a pout because "of course i do." 

that right there sealed your fate for being completely blind for the next twenty minutes.

you feel the the car suddenly stop, the scent of salt hitting your nose through the open window and making your eyebrows furrow together; you had never smelt anything like this before.

"i'm gonna get out and open your door, okay?" he tells you, the sound of his door shutting quickly followed by yours opening. 

you reach out your hand for him to grab, a foreign softness under your sneakers when you step out. he guides you for a few minutes with your blindfold still on, letting out huffs and grumbles every now and then that were silenced by his laughter.

and then when you hear what sounds like crashing water and the loud chirp of a seagulls, you hear his voice from behind you tell you take it off. 

a gasp leaves your mouth that lights up his entire face.

"number three, see the-"

"ocean!" you squeal, turning around to throw your arms around him gratefully. his laugh is muffled against your head, lips pressing a kiss on top on your hair.

"thank you, seonghwa," you say, tightening your arms around him as you press your chin into chest, looking up at him with a bright, excited smile. he can only find it in himself to smile back, take your face in his hands and place another full kiss on your lips.

luckily, your kissing has gotten a lot better with practice. 

pressing up on the tips of your toes to deepen it, your mouths gliding and parting as a breeze from the ocean hits both of you. when you pull apart, his eyebrow raises mischievously, both at your new found boldness and the prospect of exploring the ocean, so he takes your hand in his.

"you're welcome, baby. now let's go."

he pulls you toward the water as your giggles ring through the salty air, squealing when you feel the freezing water on your bare feet and jumping in seonghwa's arms when a big wave splashes up and hits your leg.

he completely uses that to his advantage, tightening his hold on you and running further out into the ocean. he doesn't care that his pants get soaked and his feet go numb, because your loud laugh and squeals of his name have come to be his favorite sound.

you eventually jump down and deal with the consequences that are freezing bones and a wet dress, running away and splashing through the ocean before he catches you by the waist and twirls you around.

but then he notices that concerning, lethargic wave hit you when you grab onto his arm, something he’s been noticing more and more of these past few weeks together. 

he quickly ushers you out of the ocean, guiding you onto the towel that he laid out as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"what happened?" he asked, voice full of concern. "are you okay?"

you insist the you're fine. that the waves of the ocean were rough and that you're not used to it. 

you push him down when he asks again if you're okay, allowing your head to rest on his chest and watching the waves crash onto the shore as the sun sets below the horizon.

"i can't believe you took me to the see the ocean," you mumble against his chest, still in disbelief that this is the same seonghwa you've known your whole life. 

the same seonghwa who constantly wore a pissed off expression, punched anyone who looked at him funny and yelled at you during tutoring.

"i like to see you happy," he says, his words genuine, without a single hesitation which makes you burrow your head and smile into his wet shirt. "which is why i have another plan for us."

you perk up at this words, lifting your body and sitting cross-legged beside him. "another surprise?" you squeak excitedly, reminding him of a child on christmas day.

"yup, another surprise for my girl," he says teasingly, sitting up to peck your cheek. "and if you say yes, you'll be my tattooed girl."

he has to keep his poker face on but it proves to be a challenge with the way your face drops, eyes wide and skin paling as you stare at him blankly. "wh-what?"

"yeah, i figured we'd just cover number four too," he says sweetly, faking it just a little bit to sell his point. "so i looked up tattoo shops around here and-"

"what?!" you squeal out again, feeling panic start to creep in your veins. "seonghwa! i-i can't actually-"

"but why not, baby?" he asks, the smirk tugging at his lips uncontrollable. "it's on the bucket list."

"okay, yeah, but you don't have to do everything on it."

his eyes narrow at you, tapping you on the nose that you naturally scrunch. 

"i think you do when there's only four things on it." 

your eyes remain wide and panic-stricken, staring at him mouth agape like he's grown five heads.

"seonghwa," you manage to get out, "you have to be- you're joking, right? you have to be joking. i can't go home to my dad with a freakin'-"

your words halt when you watch him throw his head back in laughter, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into him. 

"of course i'm joking, baby. do you really think i'd bring you home with a freakin' tattoo?"

heat rushes to your cheeks as you push him over, slapping his chest playfully and yelling at him for being so mean and scaring you. he's quick to push you onto your back, holding himself above you and peppering kisses over your face and cheeks as an apology.

"that's why i got these," he says after he pulls back, fishing in the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out five white cards. your eyebrows pull together in confusion, lifting yourself up and gasping when you see an array of temporary tattoos.

"these are perfect!" you squeal, taking them in your hand and examining each of them as if they're not gonna fall off by the time you get home; after careful consideration, you pick out a purple butterfly.

"i want this one. you pick now," you tell him with a smile, laughing when he goes with the identical butterfly in pink. the both of you run to the ocean, securing your tattoos in matching spots with cold salt water.

"this is so nice, imagine i really got one," you say, twisting your wrist as you hold your arm out in front of you. you look over to see him watching you softly, feeling a blush creep up on your face.

"what?" you say, shy embarrassment suddenly in your tone.

"nothing," he says causing you to shrug and look back at your tattoo.

his brain screams at him that he has to tell you, that this night can't end without him telling you and that it’s most definitely not nothing.

ten minutes later, with your head resting against his chest watching the steady ocean waves gain, he quietly says your name. 

you hum questioningly against his chest, feeling your eyes grow heavy at the tranquility of... everything. of his presence and the ocean and the way your life just seems so-

"i love you."

and just like that, all the tranquility is gone.

you rip your head away from his chest, eyes darting to his to see such raw vulnerability and love shining in his eyes. you can't control the way your own widen, the way your heart and stomach twist and turn into knots and make you feel even more nauseous than usual.

because he can't love you. he can't. 

something could happen at anytime and take you away from him and then what's gonna happen? you can't be responsible for hurting him and making him feel sad, even if you're-

"now would be a good time to say something," he says lowly, feeling his heart sink at the evident panic on your face.

but then he starts to panic when he sees your eyes fill with tears, backing away from him slightly as you shake your head at him.

“y/n?” he asks, holding his hands out as he walks closer to you, proving he’s not a threat to you.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly. because he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart. but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem."

"i.. i told you not to fall in love with me."

his heart sinks at the flashback, watching tears stream down your face and not being able to help the way he reaches out and takes you in his arms. he thinks you're probably just scared and vulnerable, not used to the feeling of loving someone and giving another person your entire self.

but neither is he.

and that's why, with his lips against your head, he tells you not to be scared.

 that he'll wait until you're ready to say it back and that you'll learn to do this together. 

he thinks it must calm you down a little because your arms wrap around his waist and you burrow your face in his damp shirt, muffling your cries and sobs against his shirt.

but your cries and sobs only continue later the night, putting on a strong front for the car ride home. 

seonghwa kept his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and occasionally bringing them up to his mouth to kiss; every time he did it, you looked over and smiled at him and tried to show through your eyes how much you loved him back.

but then the second you got home and your dad saw your face, he knew.

"did he tell you?" he asked gently, his heart breaking at the sight of your red cheeks and teary eyes. 

he watched park seonghwa fall in love with his daughter before his very eyes, the more evident it came the more awful he felt in his gut about it.

you can't even talk without sounding broken so you only nod your head, nearly collapsing onto the couch and hiding your face in your hands.

"you knew this was gonna happen," your dad says, not wanting to say i told you so but knowing from the start how reckless and tragic this was gonna be. "you have to tell him. be fair to him, y/n."

but nothing's fair. 

nothing about any of this is fair and you should've known life was getting too good. that you should've been expecting what tragic events were about to come.

“let’s take our bets now,” san says from his table at lunch. “is he gonna sit with her today?”

“when was the last time he sat with us?” yeosang grumbles, looking around the boy’s faces that hold a mix of anger and hurt. “he’s definitely not.”

they hadn’t seen much of seonghwa at all, really. 

missing him by the time they all gathered in front of the school after the final bell or going to his house on the weekends just for his mom to inform them he’s already out. 

and while most of them didn’t care, the older boy with hard eyes and a ticking jaw has been taking the ‘betrayal’ the worst.

“who knew he’d become such a little bitch,” hongjoong snarls. “and for her, nonetheless.”

mingi and yunho share a look, the two of them kind of caught in the middle; they’re best friends with hongjoong, have been by his side since elementary school and don’t intend on breaking that alliance. 

but they’re also close with seonghwa and see how different he is now. 

how much happier he seems because you’re in his life. they had even met you briefly after school and while you were a bit shy, there was something genuine and warm about your smile that they instantly liked. 

“she’s good for him, i think,” yunho dares to say, hongjoong’s narrowed eyes snapping to him. 

“how could she be?” the boy snarls, embarrassed that anyone he associated with could be connected to the snobby, holier than tho type like you. “i bet she doesn’t even put out.”

“i bet it’s not about that,” mingi says quietly, stiffening ever so slightly when he notices both of you come through the door. 

and like seonghwa always does, he sends them a nod of his head before sitting down across from you. your bumping arms and loving smiles make it obvious to everyone what’s going on between you two. 

hongjoong can only watch for so long seonghwa be a ‘lovesick bitch’ towards you. rolling his eyes when he watches him fawn over you, getting your food and drinks and not allowing you to lift a finger. 

(he doesn’t know it’s because seonghwa’s getting more and more concerned about how fatigued you’re growing throughout the day, something in his gut telling him it’s way more than you forgetting to drink water or not getting enough sleep as your excuses say). 

when he watches his friend tuck your hand behind your ear lovingly, a move they both would’ve laughed at before seonghwa lost his balls, he decides it’s time to get his friend back.

“what’re you doing?” he hears his friends ask from behind him but he only waves them off, stomping towards the table and rolling his eyes when you meet his gaze first. 

“seonghwa,” hongjoong says, annoyance already in his tone. the boy looks up and he stiffens, immediately recognizing the look in his friend’s eye.

“hey,” he says, voice tight and cautious. 

do not fuck with her.

“are you done with this shit or what?” 

the anger bite in the boy’s words has your head dropping immediately, eyes focusing on your lap as you try to properly prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

that’s exactly what happens the second seonghwa asks “what are you talking about?” because it’s like hongjoong goes off the rail, scoffing as he looks at his friend. 

“you’re kidding, right? you haven’t sat with us in months. we haven’t even hung out.”

“i’ve been busy...” seonghwa says but it sounds more like a question, completely thrown off by his friends odd behavior - what is even getting so mad about?

“with what? your girlfriend?” the last word twinged with disgust.

seonghwa’s eyes travel to you and the second he sees how uncomfortable you are, he stands up and towers over hongjoong.

“we can talk about this later.”

“no, i think we should talk about it now,” hongjoong says condescendingly, everything about his tone and stance making seonghwa’s fists clench. because he can tell it’s making you more and more uneasy. 

“what the fuck is your problem?” seonghwa asks lowly, pushing his friend back. 

“my fucking problem is you dropped all of us the second this bitch came along.”

the first time you brokenly get out “stop,” is when seonghwa’s immediate reaction is to grab hongjoong by the collar of his shirt, the low mumble of student’s voices when they see the first inkling of a fight. 

“don’t call her that.”

a sadistic smirk crosses hongjoong’s face as he stares into seonghwa’s dark, blazing eyes, seeing just how quickly he’s about to lose his control. the boy’s eyes then flicker to you, looking at them fearfully.

“let me tell you, y/n. your pussy must be something, i-”

seonghwa lands a punch on the boy’s face before hongjoong’s back is slammed against the wall, a hand around his throat as his eyes blaze down at him. 

"you better shut the fuck up.”

“why?” hongjoong laughs out despite the crushing weight on his windpipe. “you mean we’re not gonna share? i think we’re all very curi-

you hear yourself begging seonghwa to stop when he drops hongjoong to the ground, giving him a few forceful kicks in the stomach before the rest of the boys jump up. 

they grab the back of seonghwa’s shirt as you join them, trying to block out the way hongjoong and him are screaming and cursing back and forth despite the pounding in your head.

whether it be from the chaos of fighting or you’re already weakened, fatigued state, your vision blurs and your brain feels foggy before you whisper out seonghwa’s name. 

you feel an unfamiliar pair of strong arms around you before passing out and your world turns black. 

yunho carries you out to his car, mingi attempting to calm down seonghwa who hasn’t stopped calling your name frantically, cursing hongjoong and saying how this is all his fault. 

the two boys are quick to ground him, tell him that that’s not what’s important right now and instead deciding where to bring you. 

seonghwa rakes his fingers through your hair, your head lolled in his lap and he feels sick looking at how pale and sunken your face looks. 

“baby, what happened to you,” he mumbles out, his long finger coming out to trail over your cheek.

the second yunho pulls up to your house, seonghwa picks you up bridal style and rushes to your front door. your dad catches the sight through the window and nearly collapses in fear. 

“what the hell happened?” the older man asks frantically, terrified and haunted by how you look lifeless in the boy’s arms. 

“she passed out at school,” seonghwa grunts out, mingi and yunho awkwardly standing in the doorway watching him barrel through your house and rest you on the couch. 

he kneels down and runs his fingers through your hair again, the lump in his throat making it nearly impossible to speak. 

“i-i don’t know happened. she said she was feeling tired but-”

“you have to go.”

his head snaps up at your dad’s words, the man watching him with hard eyes and a pale face. seonghwa can only squint his eyes at him, shaking his head as you takes your hand in his.

“with all due respect, sir, there’s no way i’m-”

“you are,” he says, his voice hard and firm and such a contrast to the peaceful way he speaks in church. “you shouldn’t even be with her.”

the statement takes seonghwa back, his eyebrow raising as he squeezes your hand before standing up. 

“what?” the boy asks, making his way over to your dad. “why?”

“seonghwa, maybe we should just-”

“no,” seonghwa growls, his head snapping to the doorway before back at the older man. “why shouldn’t i be with her?”

the pain and worry in seonghwa’s eyes is overwhelmingly obvious, the love and care he has for you completely genuine and real, but right now that’s not your dad’s concern. 

if you were a normal, healthy teenager, he knows the boy in front of him would be perfect. 

but you’re not normal or heathy and adding another person into this mix of hurt and worry and pain is something he just can’t do, even with the fact in mind that you love him and he loves you. 

he knows it’s not his call to make and he’s being incredibly selfish but he does what he thinks is best at the time.

“because she’s too good for you. she deserves more and it’s selfish of you to think otherwise.”

the room, the house, the entire world seems dead silent after those words leave his mouth, seonghwa not only taken back and pained by the fact he said it but because it rings slightly true. 

he’s known since this started that you were too good for him and he didn’t deserve you. he’s been trying to prove himself worthy by treating you well, listening to all your dad’s rules and just being patient and loving you.

“i...even though that’s true-” seonghwa begins to say but the older man takes a step closer to him, his face full of anger and frustration as he tells him once more to leave. 

that’s when mingi comes in and grabs seonghwa by the arm, the boy fighting against his friend’s hold as his eyes move back to your unconscious body.

“mingi, fucking stop,” he screams, fighting against his friend’s hold and feeling himself grow more and more anxious the further he gets from your house. 

the hold on him doesn’t loosen until he’s put into the car, the two boys jumping in front and turning to see him bouncing his knee nervously. 

“how am i not supposed to be there,” seonghwa says as he looks at your house. “she’s gonna wake up and i’m not gonna be-”

“she’ll be fine,” yunho says gently, mingi nodding in agreement before adding on that your dad is there and everything will be fine. that you just need to rest and that you can talk tomorrow.

when seonghwa visits your house, both, saturday and sunday morning, your dad turns him away. 

tells him you’re too sick and can’t be around people right now. even when he pleas for just five minutes, just to talk to you and see with his own eyes that you’re okay, he still says no. 

it’s not until the man slams the door in seonghwa’s face that he lets his hard exterior down, his body deflating and eyes stinging because he hates that he has to do this. hates watching you sit on the couch not meeting his gaze.

“y/n, i’m doing this for-”

“don’t say it,” you snap. “i’m going to school tomorrow and i’m telling him.”

your dad lets out a sigh, sitting down next to you on the couch and running his hands over his face. “the doctor said...”

“one day isn’t gonna kill me,” you say, “i’m already dying.” 

your dad’s face falld before he quietly mumbles out his approval and goes into the kitchen, both of you crying separately, pretending like the both of you aren’t doing so, and wondering why this had to happen.

the tears just follow into monday, holding them back all day when seonghwa catches you before first period and takes you in his arms. 

“you scared me so much,” he mumbled against your head, his tight hold on you nearly crushing you but you don’t care; you both need this and you’ll only need it more later. 

later being when the library cleared out after tutoring. 

seonghwa noticed you purposely lingering by wiping down the tables and slowly putting your things away. he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to lean against the wall and admire you moving slowly around the room.

the room where you guys got to know each other. 

where you went from strangers to friends and watched each other grow. 

where he remembers being so defensive and wary of you because he couldn’t believe someone like you actually existed. 

you feel his eyes on you and smile at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“what?” 

but he only shakes his head, holding his arms out in front of him and causing you to roll your eyes; who would’ve guessed that the man with every full intention of ignoring you would grow to be the clingiest boyfriend known to man?

not that you’re complaining. 

you’re quick to make your way over and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his chest and his hold on you tight and warm.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, not being able to shake the feeling that something’s wrong with you. 

your stomach plummets when you realize the conversation is about to happen, that nothing is stopping it and now you’re here finally about to tell him.

“i’m okay,” you say, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. his smile quickly falls, however, when you add on. “but there is something i need to tell you.”

his eyebrows furrow at the seriousness in your tone, taking one look in your already glossy eyes and seeing something is seriously wrong. as nervousness floods through him, he takes you by the hand and leads you over so you both can sit down.

“what?” 

his panic starts to increase more and more as the silence between you stretches, your tongue licking at your dry, chapped lips and your pale skin nearly translucent. 

every time you try to get the words out, he sees you close your mouth and eyes well with tears.

“you’re freaking me out, baby,” he says, squeezing your hand before taking the other. “please, just tell me.”

“i’m...i’m sick,” you eventually get out, swallowing the lump in your throat because you know that’s not good enough. you know that when his eyes narrow and he says he knows, that your dad told him yesterday, you just have to say it.

your first set of tears and sobs finally come, your face falling into your hands as you shake your head over and over. he thinks that scares him more than anything, watching how fast you break down and sob out apologies, barely able to acknowledge his arms around you.

“y/n, what? what is happening? please tell me.” 

you pull back and wipe the wetness off your face, lip trembling and voice shaky when you’re finally able to gather the strength. 

“i have leukemia.”

the words don’t sink in at first, his heart reacting but brain convincing him that, no, that’s not what you could’ve said. there’s no way you could have cancer. 

“no,” he says, shaking his head as a humorless laugh leaves his mouth. “you’re- you’re perfect, you can’t-”

“i was diagnosed two years and i’ve stopped responding to treatments.”

you watch through tears and a breaking heart as his head falls into his hands now, breathing in and out like he’s trying to prevent himself from having a complete panic attack. 

there’s no way you could have cancer. there’s no way you could have cancer and be dying when you’re a perfect high school student. there’s no way you would’ve kept something like this from him.

“and you... you’re just deciding to tell me this?” he asks, his head snapping up so you can finally see the tears in his eyes. “why the fu...why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“i didn’t want you to feel weird or be different around me,” you whisper out quietly, “i was just gonna try to go on with my life and be normal and then just... die quietly or-”

he shoots up from his seat, the clattering of the chair falling back causing you to jump. you watch him pace around the room like he’s unhinged, his hands pulling at his hair as he shakes his head.

“die quietly,” he snarls out, his jaw ticking and tight and he wants so badly to punch something. “die quietly. what the fuck does that even mean?” 

you can only cry quietly watching him pace and digest the news, your head hanging low as the salty tears seep onto your lips. he’s walks over to you and kneels down, his hands on your knees as he looks up at you with teary eyes. 

“please tell me this a joke,” he says, his voice wavering and wet and broken. “please tell me you’re not...”

you can’t tell him that, so you don’t say a word. 

and it’s like that’s all the confirmation he needs to know his girlfriend, the first person he’s learned to love and the first person to ever see something in him, is dying.

he completely falls apart in your lap after that, cries wracking his body as your hands run through his hair. it’s the first time in two years you’ve ever felt scared to die. 

your condition worsens over the next few days, landing you in the hospital and seonghwa in a depression. he doesn’t leave his couch or eat for three days, his mom softly cooing and begging to tell her what happened. 

but it’s like he’s lifeless, his eyes void of anything but sadness, and it’s a sight that his mom can’t stand to look at any longer. 

she had noticed the change in her son immediately, used to his usual teen angst but quickly realizing this was so much more than that. 

she called out of work and sat down next to him, not saying a word but just stroking his hair the way she did when he was a child. 

she didn’t press him about anything, didn’t ask if something had happened with the lovely girl he had brought home weeks ago or if he wanted to talk about anything.

after an hour of just sitting with him in silence, he finally had the strength to say it aloud.

“my girlfriend... she has leukemia and she’s dying, mom,” he said, so straight-forward and matter of facty, like he’s not able to grasp that he’s talking about you. 

the woman feels her heart break for a moment, her eyes swarming with tears as she wraps him in a hug. 

“i don’t know what i’m gonna do,” he says once he’s able to speak again. “i... what am i gonna do without her? i love her.”

“i know you do,” she says gently, her heart truly aching for the both of you right now. “but she’s still here, seonghwa.”

the boy can only look at his mom watching him with her soft gaze, knowing his own face is a red, tear-stained mess. 

“what?” is all he manages to cough out.

“you should be with her right now, while you still can,” she says, not wanting to upset her son further but knowing he needs to hear this. “enjoy the time you have and make what she has left worth it. you both need that, don’t you?”

that was just the kick he needed to get off his couch and charge over to the hospital. barreling into your room and feeling tears come to his eyes again at the sight of you in a hospital bed. 

“seonghwa,” you weakly say, your lips quirking up when you see the boy standing in the doorway. your heart lifts when he smiles back at you, cautiously making his way over to you and whispering out an apology. 

“it’s okay,” you mumble out, leaning into his touch when he places his hand on your cheek.

“it’s not baby. i was an asshole.”

the last thing he expects to hear you do is giggle, sunken eyes shining as you look at his confused expression. 

“what could you possible be laughing about right now?”

“just that it takes me dying for you to admit that you’re an asshole.” 

and perhaps it’s too soon for you to be making jokes like that because his face falls as he backs away from you.

“that was a joke,” you say quietly, pouting in hopes that it’ll get him to lighten up. his lips only form into a thin line, teary gaze shooting around the bare hospital room before back at you.

“it’s not funny.”

you hold your arms out to him, uttering a tiny “come here.” he falls into them immediately, his head burying in your neck and you feel tiny, tears hit your skin ever so often.

“i’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling your own sorrow hit you. 

you’re not only sorry for your comment but sorry that you waited so long to tell him. sorry that you’re now putting him through this and that he’s gonna have to watch you grow weaker and weaker.

“please don’t,” he mumbles against your head. “you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

he knows by the look you give him that you think it’s a complete and utter lie but you really don’t have anything to be sorry for. he understands why you didn’t tell him and why you wanted to remain going on like a normal person.

because if you did tell him, he would’ve never dragged you all around the state on date nights and weekend getaways. he would’ve been far too concerned and nervous, fawning over you and choosing instead to do the same old thing you always did.

so you guys just agree to disagree, his lips crashing down on yours and you smiling against them before a very flustered nurse comes in and apologies for interrupting. 

given how much seonghwa never leaves your side, how from the second he gets out of school until he leaves (at his bribed time of 11:00 pm), you end up apologizing to every member of the staff. 

on the days you have the energy, you’ll walk hand-in-hand through the garden and slow dance with the elderly couple you’ve met; you guys had seen them dancing and they noticed your looks, smiling softly before all but forcing you to join them.

on the days that you have more often than not, when you feel tired and drained, he sits at your bedside or even crawls in next to you. 

your dad had walked in one night to see you both asleep on the tiny bed, seonghwa’s arms around you protectively with your head on his chest, and forgets that he never properly apologized to the boy.

“this is why i did it,” the man says to him the next day. 

they had left to get you soup you’d been craving, pushing seonghwa by his back and sending him a thumbs up despite the terrified expression on his face. 

“what?” 

the man looks at seonghwa as his eyes gloss over. 

“i didn’t wanna involve someone else in this heartbreak. i was... i was trying to spare you.” 

and while the boy can empathize with his reasoning, even feels slightly grateful for it, he finds himself shaking his head. 

“i love her.”

“i know,” the man says, putting his arm around seonghwa’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. how could he not when he sees the way you both look at each other? “she loves you too.”

“i know,” seonghwa says, smiling happily before taking a deep breath. “and that’s why i wanted to ask you something.”

and so it was a random wednesday night, summer break now in session and successfully keeping seonghwa at the hospital all day and night, when you completed your bucket list. 

when you whined at him to kiss you and his eyes lit up, like he was waiting for you to say something of the sort. 

“on one condition,” he says teasingly, his eyebrows shooting up playfully as your lips are just a few inches apart, so close to giving you what you so desperately want. 

“what?” you whine, your lips turning into a pout.

“marry me.”

the wedding was held at the church your dad preached out, a small group of your friends and family gathered for the celebration. it had been the happiest day of your lives, not a hint of a sadness or heartbreak despite the circumstances.

you ate and danced and sang like you were any other young bride, dragging seonghwa out on the dance floor who’s hold on you never loosened. 

he stepped on your feet and you got the cake in his nose but it didn’t even matter. you were able to get married and fall in love with park seonghwa and he was responsible for some of the best days of your life. 

seven months later, seonghwa finds himself walking through that same cemetery he (admittedly) followed you into. 

it was the place where he first realized there was something about you he was gonna fall in love with. where he saw just how much you were gonna effect and change his life. 

he had not only finally learned how to love but how to grieve. 

learned that he didn’t have to be destructive or hide behind his fake persona. that he had people in his life who cared about him and would be there to listen to him.

it’s how he’s coping day by day, knowing that the pain in his heart will never go away but that he’ll learn to live with it. that memories and reminders aren’t supposed to make you sad but serve as a way to carry on someone’s life.

with the blanket he has under his arm, he lays it out and places it in front of the grave. he drops down the flowers he’s brought every month since that devastating day and just begins to talk. 

“why do you come here then?” 

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. because while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, its also something that some get uncomfortable by or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. but before he can misconstrue your gaze on him, you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll read."

he talks about his upcoming semester of school and how excited he is about it.

“i wish you’d be able to see me,” he says quietly, the lump forming in his throat making it difficult to breathe. 

he stands up to run his hand along the cold stone, his long fingers trailing over it before he moves back and looks over the engraving; a few moments later, he feels arms around his waist and smiles softly at the feeling. 

“you okay?” the soft voice asks him quietly. 

“yeah,” he says lowly, feeling the presence behind him move. “just telling her about school.” 

a quiet, soft hum rings through the air. 

“she’d be proud of you, you know.”

his eyes look over the grave once more before turning around, his eyes and smile softening. “i know.” he stands there silently, looking down at the headstone before picking up his blankets and saying his final goodbyes.

“see you soon, mom.” 

he turns around and meets your teary gaze, taking you in his arms and placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“no crying, pretty girl.”

the doctors had called your remission nothing short of a miracle, transporting you to a different hospital where new treatments were being held. 

you all had been convinced that it was gonna be a waste, almost denying the treatment all together and letting the spot go to someone who’s family hadn’t come to terms with their loved ones death.

but then seonghwa’s mom came in and softly encouraged you to take it, her hand holding tightly onto yours like she knew you guys were gonna need each other come the time.

“you say that every time,” you sniffle, pouting as he wipes at the tears on your face. 

“because you cry every time.”

your soft giggle rings through the cemetery, your hands intertwined as you walk out of the squeaky gate that always reminds you of the night you shared your bucket list. 

(the bucket list that now has way more than four things on it). 

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[tittty-bitty]

Nemuri struts from store to store like an empress gracing her presence on her citizens. Really it was businesses being graced with one of her clients limitless creditcards and her impulse shopping. Who ever invented financial domination was a mastermind.

“Come along darling! Just a few more shops then we can be done!”

“You know Miss Midnight, when you said you needed help with extra curriculars, I didnt think it would make me a pack mule for your personal spending habits.”

“Your still a pillar of peace! It’s just now you have a metal hook for me to hang my shopping bags on.”

She looked over her shoulder to see Yagi struggling with the shopping bags. Yagi isn’t weak by any means, even with out his quirk. She’s seen him spar with Shota plenty of times. Which is totally just two coworkers sparring for exercise Shota claimed, with no sexual tension at all thank you very much. But any one would struggle with that many bags, especially a man with only one lung.

They manage to make it into Gucci with out any lungs popping. Yagi sprawls on one of the ottomans with a poof and start to rub his wrists. She starts to look at the purses and leather belts. Not even glancing at the price tag before adding them to her haul. When she goes back to the waiting section she glances at Yagi. Who is scrolling away on his smartphone. Despite losing over 200 pounds of muscle, he was still an attractive man. Sharp cheek bones, piercing eyes, and such a sweet smile. His handsome features multipled when he gained more confidence in this form. Everyone could see after the truth was out about Allmight that he wasn’t comfortable in his true form. Scared to talk to other adults, skiddish and horrifically terrified of making mistakes. Not including how he obviously avoided reflections and wore only baggy outfits. But a year after his retirement and him making friendships with his colleges at UA, he finally started accepting himself and it’s amazing on the amount of progress he’s had. She’s so proud of her coworkers, especially her boys to make Allmight’s retirement less lonely. Even if one is especially passionate with the task but wants to be an edgy teenager about it.

Despite the progress the man made, he still didn’t know how to dress himself for shit. He may of got himself a few outfits that arnt 5X but he still loves to drown in his clothing. If she has to be assaulted with that damn yellow suit one more year she’s going to ask young Todoroki to set it on fire for extra credit.

If only he would wear clothes that actually fit him. Show off his long neck, his collar bones, long legs narrow waist, she could go on and on about why Yagi needs a new wardrobe. She needed to show the world how Yagi is still a fine ass man. She has checked him out countless times to be confident with that claim. There was one day where he had to actually put on pants that fit him way too well after a coffee spill and had to borrow some pants from mic. She doesn’t understand how a man so skinny could still have an ass. Nothing to go over the moon about but it was so cute, so perky for a man his age. It almost distracted her from the front, his buldge which is probably the one thing that stayed the same from his Allmight form. It was extremely hard to maintain eye contact with him that day. Not that she was complaining about the eye candy, the yellow sleeping bag that pretended to sleep on the floor didn’t seem to mind either.

While thinking about the potential of jokes about Yagi’s pillar of peace to bring up in front of Shota later, Nemuri comes across a sweater. The sweater was a high quality wool, cream colored with some green trim on the collar that goes down to a v. It would be perfect for his form, a little snug but still covered everything to start him off slow. The arms a little long for the average person but perfect for his long arms. The bottom might come up a little short though. Showing off his midriff when he reached up. Potentially showing a nice v of his hips, maybe even a nice little trail of blond that dips into his pants. Oh the thought of sweet little Yagi in a crop top is intoxicating. But baby steps. She needed him to trust her with fashion first before she tries anything to scandalous.

He was still reading on his phone when Nemuri grabs the tall man by the wrist and yanks him out of his seat. With a cute little yelp he is brought up to his feet and shoved into a changing room with the sweater being thrown at him.

“Your not coming out till you put this on.” Nemuri says as she chucks over some black jeans to go with it.

After watching awkward arms reach above the door and listening to the general struggle of a man menuvering in a changing room that doesn’t accommodate him, he steps out. His black blue eyes shine in contrast with the creme color of the sweater. Giving off a sweet older man who waters flowers in the community garden than his usual look of a man who got lost in a deflated blimp.

“Oh my god honey you look so sweet.”

He checks himself in a mirror and twists to see the back. She could see his ribs poking through the fabric wile it rides up his toned stomach not as much as she hoped unfortunately. But the fitting pants made up for it. Although they don’t show off his front for the sake of the students and people who actually want to get work done in the teachers lounge, it still shows off that cute little ass of his, and that’s all she can ask for.

Yagi actually holds his attention to his reflection of the mirror. Giving the look an actual chance. From the relaxed look in his eyes, he might actually like it.

“I never thought I would wear a wool sweater like this again. I forgot how warm and comforting they are.”

Nemuri comes up in front of him and adjusts the collar for him, opening it up a bit so his collar bones peek out a little. “I can’t imagine the amount of sheep needed to make a sweater for Allmight.”

He chuckles at the comment and how her nails tickle his chest, now used to her touchy nature. “It was in high school. My mentor forced them on me when she found out that my foster home didn’t try too hard to find winter clothes that fit me.”

He rubs the end of the sleeve to feel the texture, smiling slightly, reminiscing the memories he had with her when wearing the sweaters. It was always interesting to hear about his life when he was young. He was usually guarded when it came to anything about himself before his hero days, so to hear any little tidbit about him was to be met with a neutral yet encouraging reaction.

“Well I’ll be sure to make her proud by making sure that your fabric needs are taken care of.” Nemuri says while coming around behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, admiring his smile in the mirror. “And I can make sure she rests peacefully by getting rid of that ugly yellow suit.”

He looks up from his sleeve. “Hey! I love that yellow suit!”

“You look like the noodle balloons that are outside of a car dealership. Im no longer letting my dear friend to walk around looking like a mustard bottle.”

Yagi takes the light roast with little grace with a small groan. He looks down at his wrist to look at the tag. He reads it with a puzzled look.

“I think we need to call an associate. I think they’re missing a decimal on the price-“

“Alright! Time to head out! I’ll meet you outside the store!” She shoves the bags in his hands, rip the tags off his wrist and waist and hurries to the counter.

“Ah. I can pay for my own clothes-“

“Nope! This is my treat! You can pay me back by meeting me at the car!”

Yagi looks at the minimum of 20 bags in his hands and accepts his fate. Trudging his way back to the car with the mini fortune in toll.

———

“Alright come on this is our last shop.”

“Ya no. I think I’ll wait in the car.”

“Dont worry, this place is very professional and no one will mention you being here. They are very strict about privacy. Also it will stop random men from asking me out.”

Yagi goes over the definition of professional in his head as he walks into a sex shop named “The Bimbo’s Boneyard”. It was suprisingly sleek inside despite the name. Defiantly one of the more higher end sex stores he’s been to. It was similar to a tech store with all the LED lights and plexiglass display boxes. It would be less weird if some of them didn’t have sex dolls that were determined to stare him down.

He decided to walk away from the display, trying to find something to look at with out actually looking at anything. His eyes catch a box with a cute little cat on it. He smirks a little. It reminds him of the stray cat that lives in the brush that’s on the way to campus from the dorms. He would give it pets every morning and eventually leave cans of food every morning. One morning he found a hunched black blob taking a nap on the grass. He was about to ask the obvious homeless man if he wanted his bento when he realized it was his coworker Aizawa. Sleeping on the cold ground at 5:30 in the morning with a cat that, while a sweet heart, was probably ridden with fleas.

“Excuse me sir, the food bank is on the other side of town.”

“I know but they were offering a cash prize for who ever found the dementia patient that ran away from his nursing home. Looks like I just found him.”

He chuckled at the memory. When their odd friendship really started to bloom. Not only with Aizawa, who while he was probably the closest too, took the longest compared to his other coworkers. He loved talking to Mic about classic American rock and fighting with him on how Nikki is so much better than Cardi. He loved trading tea with Thirteen as they go on about a new show Yagi has no clue what their talking about, but loves the passion. And Nemuri, who took pity on him the first day and decided to spoil him with attention and gifts that mostly ranged from sugar free candys and cute pens. It makes him feel like a toddler more than anything, but he thinks it’s sweet. He just never expected to have so many friends after Allmight was gone. He half thought if Nighteyes prediction didn’t kill him, then his loneliness will.

“My my my, I must say I’m surprised.”

Toshinori shook out of his self reflection and looked at his friend.

“I had my theories but I must say I never expected pet play from you. To think I thought you were just a vanilla cradle robber.”

He flushed with shock in confusion. Only to find that the box with the cat he was staring at for the past 2 minutes was for a bundle for a cat headband, a leash, mouth gag, and plug tail.

Absolutely horrified Yagi stammers to regain his reputation of role model rather than creepy old man. “Shit! No! No! I was just looking at the cute cat!”

“There’s no need to be ashamed, I am a professional after all. If you ever want to talk about that kind of stuff with me, I’m always open for questions.” She assured him calmly. “I’m gonna go to the check out if you want to look at the other options. I will say that you would look a lot better with the black ears.” She struts off with a few leather tools and some weird egg looking balls.

“There’s nothing for me to fucking look at because I’m not interested in that! Wait.. WHAT DO YOU MEAN CRADLE ROBBER?” He stomps off to catch up with her.

————

The staff Christmas party is filled with decorations, overworked teachers and spiked eggnog. Coworkers chatting and playing games as the snow falls outside. Yagi is chatting with Aizawa about how much Nezu is going to lose in poker after he demands people play with him. He takes a sip of his sugar free hot cocoa, very glad that his friends get a well deserved break.

“Merry Christmas Yagi!” Thirteen shouted as they shove a fancy bag in his face.

“Oh thank you Thirteen! I hope you didn’t spend too much on me.

“Oh no it wasn’t me!” Thirteen corrected. “Midnight was your secret Santa. She said she’s a little too tipsy to walk in her heels right now and asked me to give it to you.”

He looks past the smaller teacher and sees Nemuri in a tight red dress and tall stilettos. Giving him a wink when she notices him receiving her present.

He smiles and waves back at her. He pulls out the first item from the bag. An expensive looking cologne. He brings it up to his nose and gets notes of Cuban cigars and vannila. He sees a little tag attached to the bottle. With lovely cursive script it read “Garenteed to even get the angriest cats purr~”

He reads the tag as he hands the cologne to Aizawa. Shota sniffs the bottle and his eyes roll back a little bit. Obviously enjoying the scent.

“Wow she picked out something that matches your pretentious persona.”

“Maybe you can ask her to pick out some bar soap that you desperately need.” Yagi rebuttles without even looking up. Still trying to figure out what the tag ment.

“Is there something else in there? If not that’s a heavy bottle.” Thirteen comments before being passed the cologne to take a sniff.

Oh ya, maybe look at the rest of the gift before over analyzing the card. He opens the bag wider and is smacked in the face with realization on what the message ment. His blush going to his ears as he looked at the “Kinky Kat Play” bundle that he repressed from his memory. He looks up at Nemuri with shock as he finds her staring at him. Raising her glass with a smirk as she turns back to her pile of chips and angry, losing boss.

He shuts the bag quickly before Thirteen and Aizawa gets a chance to peek. “Ahhh ah. It’s a very personal gift that I don’t want everyone to know about.”

“Alright I understand.” Shota replies. He turns to Thirteen. “Thirteen get your hand vacuum ready.” The nosy prick demands as he lunges for the bag. Thank god for these stupidly long arms as he gets the bag out of Shota’s reach.

“It’s none of your fucking buisness you asshole!” Yagi cries as he goes on his toes as Shota climes him like a tree. Thirteen is giggling at their weird friendship while not helping anyone. Yagi would rather die than have the present be shown to his coworkers and worst of all Shota, who would NEVER let this go.

While he hates to do it, he’s desperate, and it has to be done.

The sickly man expands his diaphragm in such a way where when he coughs, he gets enough blood out of his mouth to put on a show. He makes a display of coughing and catching his breath. Blood covering his hand and dripping out of his mouth. He goes a little too far by making his hand shake but he needed extra sympathy points.

It seems to do the job as Thirteen rushes to his side to support him. “Shota you know you can’t be to rough with him.”

Aizawa stares at both of them in disbelief, then back at Yagi. “You are not seriously trying to play the sick old man card right now.”

Thirteen loops Yagi’s arm around their shoulders.“Shota you were to rough on him. The man has no stomach and only one lung. You should know better as a professional.”

“A professional knows when someone is faking when said person has no problem taking and dealing punches while sparring, but suddenly can’t handle a few grabs.” He cannot believe Yagi is trying to make an escape route by making Aizawa look like the asshole that beats up sick old men.

“You don’t need to defend me Thirteen.” Yagi says, adding a little tremble to his voice. “He just can’t handle losing to an old man. Could we go to the office? My nebulizer is in there.” The asshole making sure to add some pity coughs at the end.

“Of course Yagi.”

Shota stares openly in shock on what happening in front of him. Not only at Yagi’s pathetic stunt over something stupid, but Thirteens naiveté.

“A nebulizer treats asthma! Not bleeding lung asshole!” Shota shouts like an absolute child.

As he watches the duo walk, no sorry, LIMP to the office, he sees Yagi readjust his arm. To give an undeniable middle finger to Shota behind Thirteens head. The shameless bastard smiling back at him.

[juiceboxesheadcanons]

I finally figured out how to send asks on mobile :D Got any headcanons for how Illumi, Hisoka, (plus gon and Killua if it's not too much trouble) would decorate for Christmas? I just think that would be kinda poggers UwU

YESSSS I DO ACTUALLY! CANT WAIT TILL CHRISTMAS GUYS! I decided to just pin this post until the end of December so if anybody else wants any Christmas headcanons I’ll just add it here and I did put extra characters/headcanons because of that reason and if you want me to add anybody else just send in a request about it! (also dont mind the random juiceboxes I just left them out bc I don’t feel like adding new ones when adding random hc’s.) THANKS SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING! I’ll finish illumi and hisoka later but my food just arrived so I’m gonna go start on that first :)

Hunter x Hunter Christmas Event! This Event Includes The Main 4, The Adult Trio, The Phantom Troupe, The Zoldyck Family, The Freecss Family, And The Minor Characters!

Illumi

🧃 rich kid is gonna be the one with either nothing but a tree or literally is gonna go to the point of fake snow on the stair rails

🧃 it’s either nerf or nothing for this man. either go all out or don’t go at all mf

🧃 he likes Christmas except the fact it’s cold, girlie isn’t a fan of cold weather

🧃 he’ll probably do the jazz with the gingerbread cookies tho :’)

🧃 but yeah his tree’s gonna look like the ones in the movies with like all the height and the little balls with the perfect star on top bc babie is perfect so his tree should be too ✨

🧃 he says he doesn’t want anything but if you actually get him something he’ll be so touched-

🧃 he maybe will take a day off of fuck knows what to spend Christmas with anybody- 

🧃 okay we all know he’s spending Christmas with hisoka and we can’t change that 

🧃 poor baby he just wants to be held and feel the feeling of warmth again so he is a fan of hot chocolate

🧃 will not go out in the snow but he will go with you or anybody that wants to go outside and play

🧃 he isn’t a fan of dressing up but he’ll take his s/o out on a Christmas date (I will do a mini scenario/hc’s for this if you guys want.)

Hisoka

🧃 I feel if he wasn’t a pedophile or mass murderer they would hire him to work as a mall Santa Claus.

🧃 he’d probably do a color coded thing and the whole house would be that color

🧃 this mf would buy a gift for himself-

🧃 he wouldn’t do anything to his room and the biggest ick about him I have is that he has nothing in his room but a bed, dresser, desk, lamp, and nightstand like only the necessities so he wouldn’t do that much.

🧃 if he had a kid he’d 100% to elf on the shelf until they were like 16 years old and even use his nen ability to secretly make them move so the kid would believe in the magic for a while

🧃 he’s forcing illumi to come over cause he doesn’t want the little shit to be alone and sad on Christmas.

🧃 he got illumi a present

🧃 not a fan of those childish Christmas films but he’s pretty fond of the romance ones tbh

🧃 he literally never ends up under the mistletoe because everybody’s avoiding it so they won’t have to kiss the scary guy-

🧃 he can COOK asf so he’ll def make a feast for him and his s/o or just friends :)

Killua

🧃 he’s gonna be the most fun with all this, he want everything either blue, purple, or white. Literally he hates doing shit and not perfecting it (nikki minaj??)

🧃 he’d be the one to act like a mom saying “stupid I’m not buying that it’s too expensive!” and then you wake up with it under the tree- “you thought you weren’t getting it didn’t you?” I stg he is literally EVERY SINGLE MOTHER ON EARTH and it’s not even funny.

🧃 he wants to go play in the snow and make snow angels but he won’t say anything until you say something

🧃 hc that his ears and nose turn kinda red when it’s cold

🧃 he’s literally cooking a red velvet cake and there is no point in stopping him

🧃 he probably isn’t a morning christmas guy, he’s all for around 11-12 gifts so then you guys can bake cookies and play in the snow a ton because you got some energy stored up

🧃 this mf wants chocolate robots for Christmas and probably at one point in his life asked Santa for a new family but he didn’t deliver ig. (Illumi probably wrote him a fake Santa note saying that his family was better than everybody else’s.) 

🧃 his parents forced him to go sing those fucking Christmas songs when they know damn well those kids sound ratchet.

🧃 he ALWAYS ends up under the mistletoe with somebody. Even if it’s unintentional it always happens. 

🧃 a giant fan of wreaths for some reason? He puts one on every door.

Gon

🧃 his favorite holiday is Christmas so ohhh boy this is gonna be magical-

🧃 red green and white colors. you cannot change his mind literally that is what colors are in his head as soon as he hears the word Christmas.

🧃 the tree’s gonna be HUGE and he’s gonna want to decorate every room in the house. The bathroom, your room, his room, and yes he is that one neighbor with the fucking big ass lights outside-

🧃 he is a firm Santa believer he doesn’t take criticism. 

🧃 literally is going to wake everybody up at 6 fucking am to open gifts and everybody is gonna do it because can we really resist his pouty face? no. 

🧃 the joy on his face opening any gifts make it a fucking can of baked beans makes it all worth losing about 3-4 hours of sleep :,)

🧃 he probably wants toys for Christmas, I get he’s 14 but hxh doesn’t exactly have too much social media so he wouldn’t be trying to grow up too fast

🧃 he would get matching sleepwear for everybody except for some fucking reason it actually will look cute and he won’t just settle for a ugly ass tight suffocating elf sweater.

🧃 he believes Christmas is about spending time with your family and probably donated his old toys to a center so kids who didn’t have toys got some :)

🧃 he’s gonna make sure everybody has a good time, like every single person. it’s a  main protagonist thing I guess but I mean I applaud him for it.

🧃 doesn’t quite ever end up under the mistletoe with anybody but if he happened to he’d giggle and kiss their cheek in a friendly way.

Leorio

🧃 he’s gonna reuse the same fucking plastic wrinkled tree he’s been using for 12 years because the tree prices are “insane” even on sale.

🧃 he would be the one a Walmart ringing the little bell and forcing kurapika to sing with him because he needs the money.

🧃 his house is the one with rainbow colored little balls and it’s so ghetto but at the same time adorable

🧃 he is literally that one neighbor who gets the most snow and it’s the snow that’s basically ice and will take around 6 good days to shovel up.

🧃 maybe wont shovel out the snow too early because he wants killua and gon to have fun. 

🧃 he wants money for Christmas and nothing more, but kurapika tells him money isn’t a real gift and to ask for something else

🧃 even not being a morning person, he LIVES for morning Christmas.

🧃 probably eats snow.

🧃 he would try to cook and it might work actually

🧃 miss girl is plopped right down right next to gon watching elf on the shelf movies

🧃 he wears the Santa hat and is lowkey twinning with kurapika-

Kurapika

🧃 this bitch is gonna make you wait all fucking day to open gifts 😀

🧃 he thinks afternoon/nigh Christmas is the best. On Christmas eve he would literally sit down and watch movies with killua and gon for exactly 2 hours while leorio waits outside because kurapika wants him to sound like there’s somebody on the roof and kurapika can put the two children to bed and get a break for the rest of the night to finish gift wrapping and food making

🧃 hella good at wrapping gifts- commercial wrapping mf.

🧃 he thinks a white color coded Christmas looks best 

🧃 he’d give killua and gon like 150$ to buy Christmas stuff for their rooms and that’s lowkey just him trying his best he doesn’t know what the fuck else to do he isn’t a mom-

🧃 he might teach the other 3 traditional kurta songs his clan and him sung on Christmas.

🧃 he’s twinning with leorio cause he got the reindeer ears I mean get it ig- 

🧃 leorio is BEGGING kurapika to let him get a couple of drinks and kurapika’s like “YOURE GONNA STAY SOBER AND YOURE GONNA LIKE IT BITCH.”

🧃 he may or may not boys whatever they asked for and accidently on purpose use leorio’s credit card-

🧃 he just wants everybody to be happy, but can we blame him? it’s Christmas why wouldn’t he?

🧃 okay all wholesomeness aside he’s making leorio shovel the driveway.

Chrollo

🧃 he thinks this is like a romance thing

🧃 he’ll probably steal a gift or 2 for you ya know

🧃 I feel he’s the mf to have a black Christmas tree or a white one theres no in between

🧃 cookies are a yes

🧃 just go watch a classic romance movie one with him, it’ll give ya clear skin ma

🧃 he won’t decorate outside but inside will look magical asf

🧃 I think personally he’d wear a santa hat

🧃 probably would make a big phat juicy meal just for the two of you and he’d get gifts for the troupe if they cared about celebration

🧃 I feel the troupe isn’t big on that holiday stuff but if you felt like celebrating with him he’d be over the moon

🧃 he got that big tree though for no reason, he also takes the tree down the day after Christmas

🧃 Probably would give you a gift everyday leading up to christmas

Feitan

🧃 He probably was forced to sing carols and ring the bell on christmas as a kid-

🧃 he doesn’t really care much and won’t care to decorate but may or may not get you gifts

🧃 if you get him something he’ll have a small smile behind his mask 

🧃 he doesn’t wanna be in the cold just make some hot chocolate and watch a movie with him jeez

🧃 probably will wear reindeer horns if you insist

🧃 his favorite holiday is halloween but christmas is nice I guess

🧃 he probably would spend his entire day if he didn’t have a s/o with shalnark seeing who could figure out the christmas word find fastest

🧃 he’s gonna just see if theres anything he could steal for anybody

🧃 doesn’t bother with snow at all if there is snow he just doesn’t care to go outside when we got a perfectly nice house

🧃 firm believer in christmas isn’t about family it’s about gifts

🧃 he’s gonna get you something expensive though

Alluka

🧃 alluka the sweet princess is literally the neighbor that has the biggest brightest lights

🧃 she probably had her big brother killua come help her

🧃 her christmas tree is pink and white, and she decorated every square foot of her house

🧃 Christmas is her favorite holiday :)

🧃 she get’s everybody gifts and for christmas she wants some toys maybe to go shopping or something

🧃 snow angels are a must 100%

🧃 firm santa believer doesn’t take criticism.

🧃 she’s gonna be so happy just to spend time with people honestly even if nanika comes out she’s just gonna be happy

🧃 her gingerbread houses look absolutely amazing like please become a house builder sis-

🧃 she’s wearing matching sleepwear with killua and gon, probably doing a elf santa and reindeer theme which is adorable

🧃 this is the best day of her life and I’m living for it.

machi

🧃 This bitch is not a fan of anything

🧃 she want’s to paint those little christmas ball things and yeah

🧃 probably says she doesn’t want anything but some jewels or bracelets would be nice 

🧃 also isn’t a fan of snow but her house doesn’t get much to be honest

🧃 for the troupe she gives them like some bakery idem she made because why not that’s her family after all

🧃 probably wears fluffy socks on christmas and they’re like really adorable she just doesn’t realize it

🧃 she probably got something extra for shizuku idk I head canon them to be friends :)

🧃 she wont steal anything probably will buy or make it

🧃 omg machi stitching little christmas sweaters and socks omg that’s the highlight of my mother fucking day

🧃 her house if she decorates, is red and white.

Pakunoda

🧃 omg this beautiful woman I love so much

🧃 her house is white and blue and it’s all pretty

🧃 she has lights and stuff but doesn’t like overdo it or anything because she isn’t that jolly but might decorate a tree or two

🧃 she donates to animal shelters on christmas and literally it’s so cute

🧃 will probably get the troupe something specific that fits them or that they like because she isn’t trying to get somebody useless shit

🧃 for her s/o she’ll go out in the snow with them if they’d want

🧃 she buys the best gifts like that one aunt you don’t wanna give kisses but they always come through except we do wanna kiss her asf

🧃 she’ll wear machis socks that machi made her :,)

🧃 probably is the best person to have on christmas because just look at her

🧃 cuddles are everything just let’s just hug her while she watching a movie yes

Shalnark

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Phinks

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Uvo

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Shizuku

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Mito

🧃 yes

🧃 she thinks christmas is all about family

🧃 def an adult who says that they don’t want anything

🧃 she loves gons little handmade gifts or cards though

🧃 she decorates the house whatever way gon would want to cause you know he’s the only kid in the house

🧃 so basically her family has like a huge feast and everything and the food slaps

🧃 she makes gon wear this adorable sleepwear thing cause she thinks its cute

🧃 won’t let gon near any gifts before christmas

🧃 she’ll bundle gon up like a burrito if he wants to play in the snow which is adorable

🧃 she’s the mom like “you thought you wasn’t gonna get that huh? oh you welcome baby.”

Kalluto

🧃 this small little boy omg

🧃 he loves christmas but nobody really pays attention to him so he’s a little sad

🧃 with the troupe if they get him something he’ll be so excited but you won’t be able to tell :(

🧃 he’ll give people stuff because to him this is probably the most spirt he gets

🧃 he might just go sit out in the snow to enjoy the scenery 

🧃 he enjoys christmas eve most because of the vibes

🧃 doesn’t believe in santa but you know he’ll let alluka believe in it

🧃 probably a bit hurt killua wants to celebrate with alluka but not him tho

🧃 will ask killua if he wants anything def

🧃 might get illumi and milluki something if they let him

Milluki

🧃 he is always cooped up in the zoldyck house so they probably don’t decorate or celebrate but he still enjoys it

🧃 if illumi or something gets him a new game he’ll pretend he doesn’t care but he’ll appreciate it :)

🧃 he loves snow like yes

🧃 he might ask his siblings for something because his bitch ass parents wont buy him anything

🧃 yeah he doesn’t rlly give af but like yes

🧃 he probably just wants a new game or figure 

🧃 he might go online and talk to his online friends to see what they got and watch hauls on yt

🧃 probably the mf to want something that arrives in like july like damn pick something else

🧃 wont get anybody else anything sadly

🧃 we stan milluki here

THATS IT FOR NOW!! IM PLANNING ON ADDING SHALNARK, PHINKS, UVO, SHIZUKU SO IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER CHARACTERS YOU WANT JUST SEND IN REQUESTS! 😁🧃 this event does not include nsfw.

[dodgefred]

some of the abh kids’ fashion senses in modern day no i do not take constructive criticism

alice: either all thrifted, bought from small businesses, or handmade. anti-fast fashion. vintage-inspired silhouettes but not exactly. graphic t-shirts or big sweaters tucked into maxi-skirts. dresses from that one etsy shop inspired by little women. occasionally wears pants but not usually. lots of lace and florals and light colors. favorite color is blue. any kind of blue. always wears a locket with pictures of her and alfred as children inside. either hand-embroidered white converse or some kind of mary-janes or flats

alfred: ugly. he comes from a rich family so he has all this designer shit he got as gifts that he still hasn’t gotten rid of and he doesn’t know how to style them. but he doesn’t even like the designer shit anyway, he prefers graphic t-shirts with cute characters like garfield or scooby doo or rabbits on them. he thinks just because something is the same color it’ll automatically look good together so he’ll pair together two wildly different shades of green and think he’s a genius. he likes big clothes because they hide the areas he’s insecure about, and he thinks the boxy look is very masculine and he likes that. this accidentally turned into a character analysis. also he exclusively wears chunky ass dad sneakers that look like they were plucked straight from ur uncle’s yard sale but he actually spent a lot of money on them. always wears a watch. also his socks never fucking match

tabatha: not afraid to show anything off. shirts with deep v-necks, half unbuttoned button-downs, bras under blazers, whatever. alternatively, very into turtlenecks. also those corset-style tops i don’t know what they’re called??? pants are always high-waisted. dark colors or neutrals. lots of dark winelike purples. faux-sophisticated and posh. HOWEVER, she also wears doc martens with EVERYTHING. it doesn’t matter if it matches or not, she spent a lot of money on those boots and she loves them a lot!!! minimal jewelry if anything. belts! belts are great! lots of her clothes were either thrifted, gifted, or are knock-offs of a more expensive brand and she lowkey prides herself in that. big academia + lesbian energy tbh

dodgy: art hoe vibes. yellow, funky patterned high-waisted pants, checkered vans, the whole shabang. he’s very in-touch with himself and not afraid to be a little bit feminine so he wears skirts and dresses often. though his favorite type of look is funky patterned button-downs either tucked into his pants and half unbuttoned or tied in a bow at the bottom. a mix of handmade and thrifted and also designer stuff. also lives on depop. the colors and patterns he wears are definitely all over the place but he’s good at piecing them together in different and unique outfits. truly a colorblock king. really into overalls, bucket hats, and crop tops too. not all together, though. loves to layer- like, on a 2010 disney channel level. but he actually knows how to make it go together. big belief in fashion as an art form and it shows. big converse stan. always cuffs his jeans

mamie: “basic” fashion. cardigans, bralettes, turtlenecks, jeans, teddybear jackets. it’s all like gentrified designer fashion though like it’s deliberately designed to look like it’s been thrifted even though it wasn’t. she would never wear used clothes. disgusting. biker shorts and big sweatshirts are a vibe, and so are those little pastel cardigan crop top things, and also shirts with a lettuce hem. also not afraid of solid color fashion. she makes it work. she pretty much follows the trends though and doesn’t usually stray out of them. anti-plaid bc it reminds her of catholic school. brandy melville stannie

clarissa: short skirts, spaghetti-straps, crop tops. big fan of denim skirts. wears heels with a casual outfit. preferred color is a pale yellow even though yellow is so hard to find cute clothes in. favorite pattern is gingham or florals. off the shoulder tops are cool. her whole vibe is vvvvv summery which is kind of awkward considering she lives in rainy ass england. oh well she deals with it. had a vsco girl phase but likes to ignore that fact after it became a meme. she’s still a scrunchie addict though

[incorrect-spiderson]

Prompt 6 and 31 with Peter and Harley being brothers and dork 💜 and I wanted to know for how you have been writing? 💕

My boysssss!!! Anyways I have been writing for about 5 years?? It’s always been a passion of mine and I’m just now getting pretty good at it! So yeah!

Also, I wanted to explain a nickname that Harley uses for Peter! He calls him Peanut Butter because of his initials! P. B. P. I just thought it would be cute. Aaanyways enjoy!

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

If it was up to Pepper, they would be having date night on Christmas Eve. Just her and Tony, doing adult things. Though, she can’t ignore her momma bear instincts. She doesn’t want the kids alone on Christmas. Or ever, for that matter.

“HARLEY DID YOU PUT HAIR DYE IN MY SHAMPOO!”

That was her cue.

Pepper sets down her wine glass and starts towards the stairs. She drops the blanket off of her shoulders and goes after her boys. With each step she can more clearly hear their fighting.

“Pink looks good on you Peanut Butter.”

“Harley you absolute ass!”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“You’re the reason Santa even has a naughty list!”

“Really is that the best-”

As soon as Pepper opens the door, both boys freeze. Harley smirks triumphantly, leaning against the boys’ shared bunk bed. His ugly sweater reads “Santa’s favorite Ho”. Pepper turns to Peter and bites her lip. Her eyes widen and she tries (and fails) to hold back a chuckle. Peter is only wearing Morgan’s bright yellow banana towel. His pink curls clings to his face as he scowls at Harley.

Peter perks up a little bit and points to Harley. “Mom he dyed my hair pink! He is so, so lucky I’m going to pride in a few weeks otherwise I totally would have-”

Harley scoffs and pushes off of the bed. “Petey-Pie you wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly. Also, last week you filled my pillow with whipped cream.”

“The fly didn’t dye my hair pink! And the week before that you-”

Pepper holds up her hand and raises an eyebrow. The boys continue to go back and forth. Every few seconds, Pepper drops a finger. Peter catches on first and instantly stops.

“What? You ready to finally admit defeat PB?”

Peter slaps Harley’s arm and points to Pepper. Harley moves to hit him back but freezes. Once Harley realizes she’s on her last finger, he instead drops his hand and sighs. “Sorry Mom.”

Pepper smirks. “Okay, now that that’s settled, Harley go and check on dinner for me. Maybe start making the gravy. Peter go and help your dad set up the Christmas tree. He’s too short to get the star on the top without a ladder and you can walk on walls.”

Both boys sigh but mumble out agreements. Before Pepper leaves she peaks back through the door. “Oh and Petey... put on some clothes. It’s cold outside.”

Peter’s face instantly turns red as he sputters. Harley sprints out of the room in a fit of giggles, narrowly avoiding the pillow thrown at his head.

Pepper chuckles and shuts the door. Her boys truly are... something.

When May had passed away, they took Peter instantly. She can clearly remember the night when Peter showed up on their doorstep. It was storming outside, rain had been pounding against the window so hard she almost missed the knock at the door. Tony had been upstairs with Morgan, so she naturally answered it. What she hadn’t been expecting was the red, tear stained, soaking wet face of Peter Parker. Who had been clutching a familiar green sweater and a pair of circular glasses like his life depended on it.

To say the least, it had been a very, very long night.

Harley’s situation hadn’t been much better. Her and Tony had been watching Deadpool late at night when he got the call. Pepper couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but she could tell by the worry creases forming on Tony’s face that something was wrong. Suddenly, Tony had shoved the phone towards her while he pinched his nose to fight back tears. When she answered, to say she was surprised would be an understatement.

Harley had been in hysterics. She could barely tell what he was saying over his sobs. Until suddenly, his words had become crystal clear.

The Keeners were dead. Harley had been out with friends while his parents and little sister were grabbing ice cream. His family never made it home. In the same night Tony had gotten on a jet, flown to Tennessee at breakneck speeds, and only two hours after the call Harley was in her arms crying his heart out.

They’d both been through so damn much. Through things that teenage boys should never have to go through. Horrible, terrible things that people only hear about on the news and then never think of again. Every day she marvels at how much strength they both have.

“HARLEY KEENER I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST STEAL MY COOKIE! GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-”

Pepper smiles. She couldn’t be happier that they’re here. The tragedies were awful and she wishes every day that they would have never happened. But now, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She loves her two boys with her entire being.

Pepper starts down the stairs, lazily sighing at the thought of getting back into her book and taking a sip of wine. She’s about half way down the stairs before she freezes.

Two boys.

Two of three kids.

Shit... where’s Morgan?

Pepper jogs back up the stairs and opens the door to her daughter’s room. She scans it quickly and then frantically moves on. She searches every room upstairs twice. Pepper gets ready to call for Tony when it hits her.

Literally.

“Ow! Shit..”

Pepper rubs her head where the Ironman action figure hit her. She gives a pained smile down to her little girl and shakes her head. “Sweetheart, if you throw things, please make sure they’re soft? Okay?”

Morgan’s face screws up in confusion. “But Momma, Ironman was wearing a tutu! Tutu’s are soft!”

Pepper glances down at the toy and realizes. Yes. Ironman is wearing a tutu. A bright pink tutu with little yellow and red sequins on it. Pepper picks up the toy and hands it back to Morgan. The little girl takes the toy and then wraps her arms around her mother’s neck.

Pepper sighs and lifts her daughter into her arms. “You’re lucky that you, little gremlin, happen to be acting more mature than your brothers right now.”

Morgan giggles and taps the action figure on Pepper’s shoulder. “Momma I always act more mature-er than them. They’re teenagers.”

Pepper laughs and starts down the stairs. “You aren’t wrong, gremlin. I think-”

“Oh god.. OH GOD! MOM HELP!”

Suddenly, everything else falls away. Pepper’s instincts take over and she’s racing down the stairs. She grips Morgan a little tighter and as soon as she hits the bottom of the stairs she sprints towards the living room. She’s .2 seconds away from calling her suit, then she pauses.

She had been expecting a lot of things. Burglars, Aliens, Ultron reincarnated. Hell, evil snowmen wouldn’t have been too surprising.

What she wasn’t expecting was her husband to be tangled up in tinsel while her son (who is stuck to the ceiling) is keeping the tree from falling on top of her tinsel-ified husband. Peter looks up (or is it down?) from his perch and sheepishly smiles.

“So uh... we had a slight problem.”

Pepper let’s out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She puts Morgan on the ground and moves towards her husband. Tony smiles up at her mischievously.

“Hey hot stuff. All I need is a bow and-”

“Shush and let me get you out of there.”

After a few minutes of light bickering and un-tinseling, Tony is free. She helps put the tree back in place and turns back to Morgan.

“Sweetheart, it seems like you’re also more mature-er than daddy too.”

Tony’s face morphs into fake disgust. “Are you feeding our daughter lies? Pepper Potts-Stark, I thought you were better than that.”

Pepper just waves him off and starts towards the kitchen. “Whatever honey! Just try not to...”

Once again, Pepper freezes.

Harley is standing over the gravy. With green food dye. He spins to face her and his eyes widen. He glances back and forth from her to green gravy.

Once again, Pepper takes a deep breath. “Harley... Keener. Please. Please tell me you did not dye the gravy green.”

Harley purses his lips. “Well, I was raised not to lie-”

“BULLCRAP”, Peter chirps from the living room.

“- but yes. The gravy is now green.”

Pepper blinks. It’s just one thing after another with her family. “Okay, well... everyone come eat. Food is ready.”

Within two minutes the entire family is seated at the table with their plates piled high with food. Pepper sets the gravy on the table with a sigh.

Peter snickers. “Harley I knew you liked Green Eggs and Ham but this is a bit overboard.”

Harley rolls his eyes. “Coming from Pinkie Pie-”

“Harley I swear-”

Pepper sighs. “Boys. Do I have to start counting?”

Both freeze. They look at each other and then at the ground. “No mom.”

The table falls silent as everyone digs in. The peace doesn’t last long though. Does it ever?

“Oh.. oh god. Bleh! That’s nasty.. Pep what did you put in this?”

Pepper holds up her hands in surrender. “I went by the recipe. Harley on the other hand...”

Harley gasps in feign innocence. “Mom! How dare you accuse me of-”

Pepper raises an eyebrow. Harley pauses for a moment, then sighs. “Okay fine I may or may not have accidentally dropped the cinnamon and it may or may not have gotten on the food.”

Peter tips back his chair and groans. “Harley are you trying to kill me?”

“Not yet.”

“Well don’t feel bad,” Tony sighs, “you didn’t completely ruin Christmas dinner. There’s still this... jello stuff.”

“Yeah!” Morgan squeals. “It’s got marshmallows and fruit and everything in it!”

Pepper takes in the laughing faces of each family member and smiles. Their family is far from perfect. Very, very far.

But, even though they might be the strangest family on the planet, she wouldn’t change a single thing.

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

Bonus:

🎶 “DECK THE HALLS WITH WEBS FROM SPIDEY”

“Peter, I beg you, stop. You’re hurting my poor Tennessee ears.”

🎶”THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP, TWIP TWIP, THWIP THWIP”

“Mom make it stoooop.”

“Harley he’s expressing himself”

“I don’t think expressing yourself through torture is a good thing”

🎶 “DON WE NOW OUR BI APPAREL”

“I give up. Morgan, wake me up when I leave hell.”

“Okay.... What’s hell?”

🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌

AHHHH THIS WAS SO FUN!!

I would love and appreciate some feedback from y’all! Hope you love this!!

[balvinia]

Across The Other - Chapter One

Being a stay at home mom and wife doesn't make for much adventure. But Chloe has a secret life across the Other, where magic and gods, including a certain Trickster, twist everything upside down.

Chloe stared at the clothes in front of her. There was an ugly pink sundress and a black sweater dress that she had pulled out. Where the sundress came from, she had no clue. The shade reminded her of vomit, like when her four year old had drank strawberry milk while suffering a fever. What had her husband been thinking? In any case, she was definitely putting that in a give-away box. On the other hand, the sweater dress looked cozy and warm. It probably wouldn't be the best idea to wear during the summer. She really didn't feel like going, anyway. Maybe she could say that she had no clothes to wear. It wouldn't be entirely untrue- her pants were all in need of a wash, which was why she was considering the dresses to begin with. Of course, she had already promised her daughter that they'd go to the party and you do not ever break a promise to a child if you can help it. Chloe should have known better than to even mention it to begin with, why had she said that they'll go?

"April, honey, do you want to play with paints this afternoon?" Maybe the child had already forgotten about the party, she thought.

The little girl burst through the door in a matter of seconds. Well, maybe more like a whole minute. It seemed instantaneous, at least. "After the party?"

Chloe sighed. "No, never mind sweetie. Is that what you're wearing?" She had just noticed that the girl had on snow boots, jeans, and a long sleeve shirt. "It's too hot for that."

"Yes!" The girl turned tail and ran through the apartment.

"Change your clothes or you're definitely not going, young lady!" the woman yelled before turning back to the dresses. "Fuck it, I'm wearing dirty jeans," she muttered.

It took another half hour before they got out the door and strapped into the car. Another ten minutes, and they were at the park. She got out of the car, then let the child run toward the group of kids. Chloe joined the parents. "Sorry we're late, April tried to come dressed for a snowstorm."

One of the other moms laughed as she responded, "I just love when they do that."

Everyone went through the party routine, ending with the kids back out on the playground. Chloe was bored by that point. Actually, she had been bored but she was more than ready to leave. She was pretty sure that one of the other moms had pointed out the chocolate stain on her pants to somebody and it was starting to get late, anyway. It would take an hour or so to get April to wind down enough for bed and it was already close to seven that evening. She thanked the parents of the birthday kid for inviting her daughter, then spent what felt like forever trying to get her kid to the car. Choe was glad to leave the party. She never did feel like she fit in with the other parents. It always made her uncomfortable to be around them.

That night found Chloe sprawled out on her bed with an oversized tee on in lieu of a nightie. She had just gotten off the phone with her husband. They had recently gone out of town to help his parents with some remodeling around their house, but things were taking longer than expected and he hadn't returned with her and April. She sighed.

"John still not back?" The male voice startled Chloe as she reached for her glass of wine. It fell to the ground and she shot a glare at the man standing in her doorway.

"No, he's not... And could you give a woman a bit of a warning next time?"

He gave a lopsided grin. "That takes out the fun. Also, you've got what I hope is cake frosting in your hair."

She groaned as she checked the ends of her auburn hair. "Yes, that's what it is. You want something to drink? I think I've got some of that cinnamon whiskey in the cabinet..."

"Sure thing."

The two made their way to the kitchen where Chloe poured a glass for her guest. "Sorry I haven't kept in touch lately," she said, "things have been hectic. I just got home this morning."

"That's alright," he said while studying her face.

She looked back at him from across the table, unsure as to what to say. It never seemed to get easier being around him. She wanted to take in the sight of him for the moment. His long, dark coppery brown hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Last time he'd visited, his hair had been cropped shorter and reminded her of flames. He hadn't left in the best of moods then. His green eyes still held that spark that only he seemed to have. That seemed to be one of the few things that remained so constant about his appearance.

When Chloe realized that she had been staring, she averted her gaze down to the table. "I was actually hoping to talk to you soon," she stated quietly.

“That’s why I’m here,” he said before taking a drink. “To talk.”

She stared at him again for a moment. “Did you have anything specific in mind or should I just start blabbering at you now?”

He chuckled. “Blabber on.”

Chloe wasn’t actually sure what to say or where to start. ‘I’ve missed you and trying to talk to you when you’re off to gods-know-where is a pain in the ass. Can’t you just get a cell phone or something?’ didn’t seem like the best way to start off. She took a breath to clear her mind. “Why did you decide to show up while John was out of town, anyway?”

“I wanted to give you a chance to talk without worrying about him.”

She sighed. “You make things more complicated than they should be, you know.”

Before she could say anything else, he had his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “That’s what I’m good for,” he grinned as he stepped back.

The woman shook her head in dismay. She had what felt like everything in the world on her mind at that moment. Chloe had been considering some things that her husband probably wouldn’t like very much. Before April had been born, she had done more than stay home and clean a child’s face. She quit her day job so that she could focus her time and energy on being a mom. She quit her evening adventures because John was afraid something might follow her home one day. To be fair, the worry had crossed her mind a few times, but she was pretty good about being careful. Those days had been when she’d first met the man currently standing in the room with her.

* * * * * * * * *

Five years ago, Chloe had found herself wandering an unfamiliar town. It was around dusk, one of the times of day that the veil between worlds was easier to cross. She’d taken to astral travel as a means of escape when she was in her teens. By this time, it had become more purposeful. The training she had underwent for several years, mostly apprenticing under more experienced spirit workers, gave her the necessary skills to assist others in multiple ways. That day, however, her trip that day in the Other was supposed to be just on the side of exploration. The young woman was taking in her surroundings. A light fog hung over the stone streets, lights from shop and restaurant windows illuminated it, giving it an eerie appearance. There were a few people walking about in the part of town she was in. She made sure to keep her distance. A sound down a nearby alley caught her attention. Her hand instinctively reached for the knife clipped to her belt. It didn’t look like much, but she knew she could always rely on it if something went wrong. Chloe wasn’t on a mission. Nobody had contacted her for help with anything and she hadn’t been out looking for trouble. Anybody would have known that alleys after dark usually mean trouble. Still, curiosity always got the better of her and so she edged closer to the source of the sound.

When she peeked her head around the corner, she could see the silhouette of a couple of people in a struggle. She paused, waiting to further assess the situation. There was a muffled sound like somebody trying to speak with their mouth covered, then a sharp sound of pain. One of the silhouettes backed up quickly. Chloe heard a harsh string of words in a language she didn’t recognize, but she could guess there were some profanities among those words. It didn’t take more than a few more moments to realize that the two were probably just drunks. She sighed and stepped back, turning around directly into somebody. With a gasp, Chloe stepped back with an immediate apology.

The man looking down at her had an unpleasant grin on his face. She straightened her back and turned slightly, hand reaching toward her knife once again. It was gone. The man held it up mockingly as he stepped toward her. Chloe realized that he must have snuck it when she bumped into him. An irritated “fuck” escaped her lips as she backed away. It was okay, she’d thought. She didn’t need her knife. It just made things a bit easier. Magic was always an option. She made her hands into fists and felt the air around her bubble. She released a ball of energy at him that was supposed to explode on contact. It dissipated when it hit the man. Chloe’s eyes grew wide as she realized just how much shit she’d stepped in. Wrong time and place indeed. The man was a lot larger than she was and she didn’t like the idea of hand-to-hand combat. Her flight response kicked in. As she twisted her body to turn around, she felt his large hands take hold of her shoulders and shove her around the corner into a wall. It felt like all of the air in her body left her. She kicked out at his knees and heard a crack upon impact. The man wavered long enough for her to duck under his arms and start running. Unfortunately, he must have been more pissed off than he was in pain because she heard his footsteps behind her. She only slightly registered that the drunks from the alley seemed to have both gone. They probably wouldn’t have been any help anyway.

Chloe released another ball of energy toward the man, this time aiming slightly to his right. It hit a cluster of garbage cans that went flying directly into his path. He fell over them. She smiled in relief. It may have been a bad situation, but maybe she’d have a better chance of getting away from the freak. She made a turn that led to the backside of a building and her hopes fell again.

As she tried to come up with a new plan, Chloe heard a door open. Light spilled out of the building as someone else stepped out. This one was tall, but had a thin build. The light made his short hair look like it was on fire. She looked in the direction of her attacker who had stopped just in the shadows. He must have wanted to be sure they were still going to be alone. Keeping her eyes on him and hoping that she wasn’t making another mistake, she moved closer to the door. The smell of alcohol and smoke wafted from that direction. It must have been a bar. “Hey, umm… Mister?” Chloe kept her voice low as she tried to get the new stranger’s attention. “Anyway can I get inside there?” It was surely safer than being stuck between a wall and the big guy.

The flame-haired man looked at her with a shrug. He stumbled as he tried to pull the door back open. “M’nope,” he said. “S’locked.”

Chloe groaned. “Great, thanks anyway…” It probably wasn’t his fault. She thought that she saw him staring in the direction of the shadows and glanced back in that direction.

He spoke again, this time sounding sober. “That guy causing you problems?”

She looked in surprise at him. “Uh… yeah.”

The flame-haired man nodded and walked away from the door. “Hey, you!” His face lit up in a playful grin. “You like scaring pretty young maidens?” He paused to give her a wink and continued walking toward the other man.

The big guy stepped out. He obviously knew that he’d been caught, but his posture revealed that he didn’t think it was such a big deal. “Maybe I do. What’s a twig like you going to do about it?”

The man from the bar had his hands around the other man’s throat in an instant. Chloe took the chance and ran back the way she’d come. She spotted her knife still lying on the ground where the big guy must have dropped it. She picked it up and groaned as she realized that she should probably check on her perceived savior. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to somebody who was trying to help her. And, if it turned out that he wasn’t really such a great guy after all, she at least had her weapon that time.

By the time she’d returned, the big guy was tied to a pole and the other one was lighting up a cigarette. Chloe raised a brow and cautiously stepped toward them. “Looks like you had it all under control… I appreciate that.” She glared at her previous attacker for a long moment.

“Yup. Why’d you come back?” The flame-haired man looked curiously at her.

She shrugged. “I just thought… Well, I was afraid as big as he is and as skinny as you are.” The woman shook her head. “No offense… You did seem drunk at first and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course I’m okay!” He strolled over toward her before she could process him moving. “You really shouldn’t have come back. This is a dangerous part of town.” His voice had turned hard.

Startled, Chloe jumped back and flicked her knife in the air beside her. It’s form shifted into a sword and she pointed it at him. He held his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just saying… You really shouldn’t be here.”

She let out a breath, still holding the sword in front of herself. “Okay. I’ll leave.”

“I can walk you to a safer place if you’d like.” Chloe could have sworn that he had a look of concern on his face. She relaxed.

“What do I call you?” she asked softly. It wasn’t always considered polite to ask what somebody’s name was. Giving your name could be thought of as a way of giving somebody power over you. Despite that, she wanted to have something to call him by if she was going to accept his offer.

His voice had lit up in a grin again. “I’m Loki.”

[javocjovian]

Miracle on Lebanon Street -Sabriel Secret Santa

Happy Secret Santa @scrollingkingfisher​!!! I hope you like it :D

Title: Miracle on Lebanon Street Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865906 Ships: Sabriel, Destiel Rating: G Christmas Tropes: Ugly Christmas Sweaters, White Christmas, Gift Giving, Christmas Feast (it's pie), Mistletoe Summary: The bunker gets an unexpected visitor on Christmas morning, and it's not Santa! Words: 2702

Written for the @sabrielevents​ Secret Santa!

Miracle on Lebanon Street

Sam awoke on the morning of December 25th to find his room freezing cold. Still half asleep, it didn't occur to him how unusual it was for it to be so cold in Kansas, even in the winter; all he cared about was getting warm. He got up and found an old sweater he didn’t remember buying and some warm socks that used to belong to Dean. He got dressed and headed for the kitchen, eager to wrap his hands around a hot mug of coffee. As he walked down the hall, he was surprised to find lights on in the library.

Sam turned the corner expecting to see Dean, groggy and irritated by the drop in temperature which persisted throughout the bunker, but Dean wasn't there. Sam saw the source of the lights and stopped dead in his tracks.

Sometime during the night, The Men of Letters’ library had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. Everything was aglow with red and green lights, there was a roaring fire in the fireplace, festive wreaths adorned the balcony, and a fully decorated pine tree sat merrily in the corner, complete with an angel figurine on top that Sam noticed wore a tiny trenchcoat.

Once the shock of the scene wore off, reason began to kick in. Sam reckoned that Castiel must have done this. He probably came in during the night, Santa style, and decorated the bunker. Sam smiled in disbelief. This was a gift for Dean.

Dean liked to pretend that he didn’t care about Christmas, but Sam knew better. Dean had always wanted a Christmas like this: full of lights and festive ornaments and family. Sam had to give Castiel credit; it was really sweet.

Despite all the Christmas cheer, Sam still needed coffee, so he resumed his path to the kitchen and began making a pot. 

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps mirror his route and stop in front of the library. Dean appeared in the doorway, a look of sleepy confusion on his face.

“Morning,” Sam smiled.

He gestured to the library. “Did you…?"

“Nope. Why don’t you go ask Castiel?” 

Dean watched Sam pour his coffee, realization slowly waking his features. He suddenly looked up. “It’s Christmas. Cas…!”

Sam scoffed. “You’re just now realizing?”

Dean’s wide-eyed panic clearly meant ‘yes’. Without even taking a coffee he turned tail and hurried out of the room. “Oh shit!”

Sam laughed to himself. He sipped his coffee as Dean ran back and forth pulling on jeans and looking for his keys. “Need anything from the store?” He shouted.

“More coffee.” Sam grinned. "You don't have to wrap it."

Dean gave him the thumbs up, threw a coat on, and headed to the garage. 

Sam shook his head in amazement. He hoped Castiel asked Santa for nude mags and liquor. Although something told him that Castiel already had everything he wanted. 

 Sam finished his first mug and was about to pour a second, but he was suddenly distracted by an odd rustling noise from the library.

"Dean?" He called out. Had Dean forgotten his wallet? 

Sam stepped out of the kitchen to look at the tree. Something was moving at the top of it. 

It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. He thought it was an ornament at first, but it was  moving  . It wasn’t an ornament at all. There was an actual, living bird  in  the tree.

Sam stared in shock at the small animal. Did Castiel really put live birds in the tree? Just like that, Sam's fondness for Dean and Castiel's budding relationship was gone and he was back to thinking that it was going to get him and everybody else killed.

Before Sam could decide what to do about a bird trapped in the bunker, it took flight, fluttering frantically. A short string of lights was stuck to it and it flew awkwardly around the high ceiling.

Sam put his coffee down. If he could grab the lights he could catch it and.... 

His train of thought was interrupted by the realization that the bird wasn't just fluttering about, it was flying  at  him like a tiny, feathered, Christmas missile.

“Shit—!”

Sam threw his arms up and ducked, but it was too late. The lights caught around his shoulders, wrapping Sam up like a Christmas tree. Then, to Sam’s bewilderment, the bird fell right into his hands.

He froze, staring in surprise at the little creature who, once it had caught its breath, nestled comfortably in Sam's large hands. Sam rose a brow. It wasn’t just a bird, he realized, it was a partridge.

Castiel had found a partridge? In Kansas? That was a little beyond Castiel’s grasp of human culture, Sam thought. Castiel didn’t even know all the words to ‘Happy Birthday’. Skepticism building, Sam looked around expecting to see Dean laughing at him and Castiel looking resigned, but there was no one else in the library. It was just Sam and the partridge that was now pecking curiously at Sam's thumb and ruffling its feathers.

Suddenly, a wild thought occurred to him. He looked back at the bird. “Gab…?”

As if he had spoken the magic words, the partridge vanished in a sudden poof of grey feathers. It was a Christmas miracle that Sam didn’t fall on his ass as Gabriel the Archangel materialized exactly where the bird had been: in Sam's arms. Sam nearly lost his balance as he found himself holding Gabriel up.

“Tada!" Gabriel beamed. "Merry Christmas, Sam!"

Red faced and shocked, Sam hoisted him up with great effort. “Gabriel!”

Gabriel gave him a sly smile. “Miss me?”

Sam's eyebrows contracted. He stood up straight and stared at Gabriel, who looked like he was in a hammock on the beach. 

"You...you did this? The tree and… everything?"

"Yup."

"You turned into a bird?"

"Yup!"

“And flew at me!”

“Oh yeah.”

Sam looked at the Christmas lights wrapped around his shoulders, casting them both into a Christmassy glow. 

"Why?"

Gabriel gave Sam a sarcastic look, then plucked a candy cane from his shirt pocket. "Come on, you're supposed to be the smart one. It's Christmas!" Gabriel unwrapped the candy cane and sucked it with relish. "You boys deserve a Merry Christmas for once."

Sam readjusted his hold on Gabriel. "Well, next time, maybe give me a little warning?"

Gabriel scoffed, looking surprisingly birdlike. "Where's the fun in that?"

Sam stared at him incredulously, but he couldn't help but smile at the look of roguish delight on Gabriel's face.

"There we go," Gabriel grinned. He popped the candy cane out of his mouth, leaned forward, and kissed Sam sweetly. 

Sam's smile melted away as he kissed him back, momentarily forgetting how heavy an archangel was. Gabriel pulled away and, before Sam could speak, put the candy cane in Sam's mouth. Sam gave Gabriel a look.

“Ishere mistletoe aboff us?” Sam mumbled around the candy cane.

Gabriel paused, then snapped his fingers. “There is now.”

Sam chuckled, then leaned back in and kissed Gabriel, sharing the slowly melting candy cane between them.

 A noise from the hallway interrupted them, and Sam lowered Gabriel onto his feet at last. Gabriel picked up Sam's coffee while Sam began trying to extricate himself from the Christmas lights.

"Hey little bro," Gabriel greeted a tousle-haired Castiel.

Castiel blinked at them both. He appeared in the library wearing one of Dean's old band shirts and a pair of striped pajama pants. Sam was used to the sight by now, but Gabriel looked him up and down in merry surprise.

"Oh-ho, someone had a Merry Christmas already." Gabriel beamed, stirring the coffee with the candy cane before taking a sip.

Sam elbowed him, but he needn't have bothered. Castiel didn't understand.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?" Castiel asked tiredly. 

Gabriel rose a brow. Sam had managed to arrange the lights like a scarf before he gave up. He had a feeling that the lights wouldn't come off no matter what he did. 

“Oh I just decided to fly in and wish you all a Merry Christmas.”

Castiel looked between them, then up at the mistletoe, and sighed. Sam cheeks went red.

Gabriel chuckled and grabbed a large red stocking from under the tree. "Here, I got you something."

Castiel's attention fell on the stocking. He looked at it ominously.

"Oh, come on." Gabriel jostled it at him. "It won't bite."

Castiel gave him an exasperated look, and Sam knew exactly why. That stocking probably  could bite. Still, Castiel reached into the bag.

The stocking was deeper than seemed possible. Sam watched interestedly as Castiel pulled out what looked like a colorful mound of wool.

"Put it on." Gabriel beamed.

Castiel eyed the sweater. He sighed and pulled it on over his head, making his hair even messier. The sweater was charmingly ugly and decorated with little baubles and tiny Christmas trees. Across the chest it said 'Tree Topper'. 

"Thank you Gabriel," Castiel mumbled.

Sam exhaled in relief. For Gabriel, that was a really nice gift.

"No Cas, thank you," Gabriel winked. "Now, where's the third musketeer? Sam already got his present so…"

"What was my present?" Sam asked.

"Me!"

Sam gave him a look.

"Just kidding, you're already wearing your gift."

Sam looked down at his sweater in realization. On reinspection, the old sweater he'd hastily grabbed from his closest was in fact a Christmas sweater. It was red and green and decorated with not reindeer but tiny frolicking moose. Sam closed his eyes and smiled.

"We didn't get you anything," Castiel frowned.

Gabriel waved his hand airily. "Your presence is my presents."

Castiel had to think about that for a moment.

"Although I wouldn't say no to crashing here for a few days," Gabriel added, "to keep up the festive cheer and whatnot."

Sam smiled knowingly. "You can stay, Gabriel."

"Great!" Gabriel slipped his arm around Sam.

 Above them, Dean returned from the store. The front door slammed and they could hear disgruntled footsteps. Dean's face appeared on the balcony and he froze.

"Morning sunshine!" Gabriel beamed.

Dean scowled. He stormed down the stairs and Sam instinctively turned to shelter Gabriel. Sam knew that scowl too well.

"Dean…" Sam began.

"You!" Dean shouted. "You did this?"

Gabriel winked at him from behind Sam’s arm.

Dean was beyond words, so he grabbed the remote from the table and turned on the TV they'd placed in the library to keep up with the news.

"-the weather phenomenon taking everyone by storm this Christmas morning-" A newscaster was talking and giving the audience a curious look. 

Sam, Castiel, and Gabriel’s attention turned to the screen.

"It seems somebody in the Midwest wished for a white Christmas this year. States as far South as Kansas were hit by a freak snowstorm early this morning. Many of these areas have no contingency plans for icy roads, so if you have travel plans today, you'd better cancel them. What do you think of this weather, Tom?"

The newscaster seemed pleasant enough about the snow, but the weatherman, Tom, was speechless with confusion.

"...people keep saying, 'snowstorm,' but there was no storm cell… Radar maps are clear. The snow just… it just  appeared ."

Tom began rambling incoherently and the news feed had to be quickly shifted back to the newscaster. 

Gabriel threw his head back in laughter.

Castiel sighed.

Dean turned to Sam. "You and your boyfriend are scraping the ice off of Baby."

Sam bit back a grin and nodded somberly.

Dean gave Gabriel another stern look, but Dean's demeanor softened when he saw Castiel. He walked over to him, hiding a plastic grocery bag behind his back. "Morning, Cas," he cleared his throat. Castiel smiled at him.

“Oh, you're not getting out of your gift that easily," Gabriel said, still laughing over the befuddled weatherman.

Dean eyed him.

"I got you a sweater, too. Merry Christmas."

Dean stared at him. He'd been ignoring the fact that everyone was wearing Christmas sweaters, silently hoping this moment wouldn’t come, but it had, and Gabriel was now eyeing him roguishly and holding a Santa sack like a lure.

Dean sighed and walked over to him. He understood that Gabriel had decorated the bunker and created the snow, and he wasn't entirely ungrateful, so he played along and reached into the sack. When nothing bit him, he felt around and pulled out a wool sweater similar to Castiel's. It also had little Christmas trees, plus snowflakes and tiny impalas. Like Sam’s moose, they could have passed for reindeer.

Gabriel beamed at him. "Well? Try it on!"

Dean glared at him, then at Sam, but he put the sweater on all the same. Only when it was straightened out could Sam see what was written on it.

'Tree'

Dean read it upside in confusion, until he saw Castiel's sweater. Castiel didn't get it, and was innocently tasting a candy cane, but Dean's expression was hardening.

"So! Dean, did you get more coffee?" Sam said loudly, holding back a laugh.

Gabriel winked at Sam.

"Oh, yeah," Dean set the bag down. "And uh…" Dean looked around. It seemed like as good a time as any. He pulled out a few things from the bag.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.” Dean said awkwardly, offering Cas a few DVDs.

Castiel tilted his head and took them curiously.

"It's what I always watched around Christmas time as a kid. I thought you might like them, too." Dean said gruffly, although his eyes were more gentle than usual.

"Die. Hard?" Castiel read. "This is a Christmas movie?"

"Yes," Dean said firmly. "And there's ‘A Christmas Story’…"

“I remember that one!” Sam smiled. "Dad loved it."

"Yeah, he did," Dean chuckled. "And, uh, this one's about a reindeer who saves Christmas," he said very seriously.

Castiel looked at him skeptically, as if about to ask how a reindeer made out of clay could save a pseudo-Christian holiday.

"I didn't get a chance to wrap them or anything…" Dean added awkwardly.

Castiel's question faded and he smiled warmly. "Thank you, Dean." Castiel put an arm around him and kissed his cheek. 

Dean's ears went red, but he smiled.

"Let's watch Die Hard,” Castiel said.

Dean grinned.

Gabriel didn't comment on this exchange, much to Sam's relief. Just like Sam, Gabriel seemed to enjoy seeing his brother so happy.

Gabriel gave Sam a rare, genuine smile, then said, "Well, why don't we make some hot cocoa and watch a movie?"

"Coffee," Dean corrected him. "Let's make some coffee and watch a movie."

Gabriel chuckled as Dean went into the kitchen with the rest of the shopping and began brewing another pot.

 Castiel opened the DVD and Sam helped him put it in the player. Gabriel kicked back on a love seat and waited for Sam to join him, watching in amusement as Sam tried to instruct Castiel on using the DVD player.

"Sam, did you buy pie?" Dean hollered from the kitchen.

Sam looked up in confusion.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," Castiel said, his eyes twinkling.

Dean stuck his head around the corner. "God I love you.”

Castiel smiled, looking very pleased with himself.

 Overcome with Christmas spirit, Dean decided to share and returned with a tray of coffee and pie for everyone. Sam settled onto the couch with Gabriel, and Dean sat with Castiel. Sam couldn't remember ever being so at peace with the world. For the first time in his life, as he lay in Gabriel's lap and watched Die Hard, he thought he understood why Dean always wanted a real Christmas. If this was a real Christmas, Sam wanted to have one every year. 

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Sam whispered over the movie.

Gabriel smiled and kissed his forehead. “For what?”

“For everything."

Gabriel chuckled and took Sam’s hand. “You know I’d do anything for you, kiddo.”

Sam kissed Gabriel, tasting his sweetness once more, then resumed watching the movie. He caught Dean’s eye, but to his surprise Dean wasn’t glaring at Gabriel like he usually did. Dean looked as content as Sam felt.

Dean held up his mug to toast Sam’s. "Merry Christmas, bitch.” Sam chuckled and toasted back. "Merry Christmas, jerk."

[hellas-himself]

Crack Ship Holidays

Friendsgiving pt. 5 

The day after Thanksgiving is when our Christmas begins. We put up decorations and the tree and then our holiday season ends in the middle of January. I had meant to post this sooner but it’s been hectic lol but y'all already know the deal. 

.

.

“I’m so glad you could come with me,” Aelin says and loops her arm around mine. “Elide didn’t believe me when I said the lines wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Mor told me the same thing.”

“And where is she?”

“Hung over. She’ll be doing all her shopping from the comfort of her bed.”

“So smart… But I have no patience for online shipping.”

We put the bags in the trunk of her car.

“You still haven’t gotten anything for Cassian,” she says as we get in the car.

“You haven’t gotten anything for Rowan.”

“Touché, Archeron.”

I roll my eyes and laugh.

“What did you get him last year?”

I hate that I blush but Aelin is busy backing out to notice.

“I wasn’t working last Christmas… But I painted a few pieces for everyone. What did you get Rowan?”

“Two things- One present to open in front of family, and another for when we were alone.”

When I look at her, she’s grinning and wriggling her eye brows.

“Christmas is also when Cas and I started getting… closer. We didn’t actually do anything until New Year’s but that’s beside the point.”

“What do you give a man who has everything?” she muses.

“I-”

My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket. Adela Rodriguez tagged you and Cassian Rodriguez in a post.

“What is it?”

“Cassian’s mom… she posted something on Facebook- and tagged me in it.”

“Well, what is it?”

I tap the notification and watch the screen change from my home screen to a picture of Cassian and I with her. Cassian is standing behind us, trapping us in a bear hug. Adela and I are laughing.

“It’s us… She wrote me something… Mi yerna querida, gracias por amar a mi hijo como el se merece.”

“And she speaks Spanish, too,” Aelin deadpans before giving me a smile.  

I laugh. “Says the musician… But yes. I practically lived in their house, so I learned…”

“What does that mean, though?”

“My beloved daughter in law, thank you for loving my son the way he deserves.”

“Oh, my god. That’s so sweet! How did dinner go with them?”

“It was amazing. I can’t wait to get the Christmas card in the mail. I’m in it this year.”

“That’s adorable.”

“What about you?”

“It was really nice… Aedion and Lys came over with Evangeline. Manon and Dorian stopped by with Elide and Lorcan. Fenris and Connall always spend the holidays with us, they brought the dessert this year.

“Rowan’s parents passed away when he was really young, as did my mine… Rowan isn’t close to his family- Only his cousin Endymion. My uncle Gavriel and cousin Aedion are the only family I have left, well by blood. There are uncles and all that, but they weren’t in my life until I was already an adult.”

Aelin spoke so frankly…

“I’m sorry, Aelin.”

“I- Thank you, Feyre… Holidays aren’t the easiest but in the end, we choose our family and I’m really lucky to have been able to find them.”

“In that I completely understand.”

Aelin pulls into the parking lot of the pet store.

“Where are your parents?” she asks me and I shove my hands in my pockets, the action making me think of Rhys. Of countless times I snuck out of my house to knock on their door.  

“Suburbs… But I don’t speak to them. Neither does Elain- Our older sister, Nesta, she still talks to our mother.”

“I haven’t met Nesta yet.”

I sigh. “You probably won’t.”

Aelin raises a brow as we step into the store.

“Nesta and Cassian dated when he started college. She treated him like shit and she has the nerve to be upset that I’m with him now.”

Aelin whistles.

“Well. My friend Yrene is married to my first boyfriend, Chaol. They’re having a baby. My best friend Dorian was my… something at one point and he’s with Manon, another friend of mine.”

“Cassian and Rhys aren’t brothers by blood… But I kind of dated Rhys, too.”

“You know… that doesn’t surprise me.”

“No?”

“You remind me of Dorian and I. Because of your history, your connection to one another is deeper than anyone else- and it’s obvious.”

“It was fake at first,” I say and Aelin gapes at me. I roll my eyes and walk right to the dog aisles. “His girlfriend dumped him for some college guy so I kissed him in the parking lot to piss her off and then… That was that.”

Aelin cackles and throws an arm around me.

“That is the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“And Lucien… Well, people used to think we three were a thing.”

“Were you?”

“No… Not physically anyway.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

I grab an elf’s hat and an antler head band.

“Let’s see what Cas thinks.”

“I like this, too,” Aelin adds, taking what looks like an ugly knitted sweater. It’s adorable.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Cassian a text. Elf or Reindeer? Though there’s ugly sweaters I like.

Dressing up for me, bunny?

I roll my eyes. No, dumb ass. Valo’s Christmas picture.

Cassian sends eye roll and thumbs down emojis before giving me a real answer.

Reindeer… But ugly sweater. Get both?

Alright, my love. Thank you. See you soon.

*

Elain is standing outside of my house, leaning against her SUV.

“I was just about to call you,” she says as Aelin and I get out of her car.

“Cas is probably in the shower or something,” I say as I fish for the keys in my pocket.

“No. He left with Az.”

“What?”

“Did you forget what day it is?” Elain is smirking. She hugs Aelin and I before helping bring my bags inside. I don’t hear Val.

“Oh fuck,” I say, which makes Aelin laugh.

“What’s today?”

“Their fucking football game. I completely forgot!”

“And you have to be there,” Elain says. “It’s tradition.”

“Is this where all the boyfriends and girlfriends cheer their men on?” Aelin teases.

I look at Elain who’s smile goes wicked.

“El.”

“Yes, Feyre. Even Lucien is doing it, and he’s playing, too.”

“Okay, I want to know what ‘it’ is,” Aelin says and crosses her arms.

“Let’s hide these in my art room,” I mutter and they follow after me. “Elain, Lucien and Adela have matching jerseys with their respective partner’s name- which is fucking adorable. But then there’s the fucking face paint and the pom poms-”

“Oh, my fucking god. Rowan has a game today- Please tell me Rowan is playing against Cassian.”

“He is, actually,” Elain says.

“I wear my high school cheer outfit every year,” Aelin happily adds. “Sometimes, I prefer it when Rowan’s team loses. The sex is amazing when he’s cranky.”

Elain laughs.

“Same with Az.”

“Wait, I don’t have one. A jersey, I mean.”

“That, baby sister, is where you are wrong.” Elain reaches into her enormous bag and hands me a folded jersey. “Had it made after you told me you were official.”

It’s black and white, with red letters. There are the numbers ‘07’ on the front and Cassian’s name on the back. It is so ridiculous and yet…

*

Aelin is waiting for Elain and I in the parking lot of the park. She has her hair in pig tails and she’s wearing a green and white cheer outfit with long sleeves. She even has pom poms.

“Elide is here already,” she says as she slips her phone into the pocket of her skirt and then she looks at me. “Damn, Feyre, I didn’t know you were hiding all that under those clothes.”

I sigh. I kept my hair down and tied the jersey at my waist, right where my long-sleeved white crop top stops. I paired them with waisted red leggings and the black, red and white sneakers I’ve had forever.

“Cassian isn’t going to be able to focus with all that ass.”

Elain snorts.

“And don’t act like I don’t see you, Elain,” Aelin says playfully. My sister blushes.

Aelin introduces me to her friends, all of them so beautiful I’m left dumbstruck. I introduce them to my sister as well as Adela and Elyse who immediately offered them sandwiches and coquito. There is music playing loudly and Iliana is dancing around her father who is absentmindedly spinning her around as he talks strategy with Lucien. Valo is rolling around in the ground with Aelin’s dog, Fleetfoot- a dog she and Dorian adopted together long before she and Rowan became a thing.

Amren is here as well, to my surprise but I see Varian chatting with Fenris and his twin brother, Connall- he made the boys’ team even. I see Cassian standing next to the tallest man I’d ever seen- brutally handsome with long black hair, tied up in a messy bun just like Cassian has his.

And then he sees me.

Aelin slaps my ass and winks before I walk over towards him. I hear her calling for Rowan in a sing song voice behind me.

“Hello, handsome,” I say as Cassian pulls me in for a kiss.

“I was going to ask you what you got me for Christmas,” he whispers into my ear as his hands wander down to grip my ass. “But it looks like Christmas came early.”

“Stop it!” I laugh and he kisses me again.

He seems to remember that his friend is standing there still. He isn’t smiling, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“Bunny, this is Lorcan. He works with Rowan. Lor, this is my girlfriend, Feyre.”

I give him a wave.

“Hi.”

“So you’re the girl in the picture,” he says and I look at Cassian expectantly. He laughs and rubs the back of his neck.

“What picture?”

“It’s nothing,” he says and punches Lorcan’s arm. “Let me introduce you to the guys.”

Lorcan smirks but when I hear Elide call his name, he smiles. A real smile. Cassian takes my hand and guides me away.

“What was that all about?”

“He’s an ass.”

“Clearly. But really, what picture?”

Cassian sighs. “I’ll show you later.”

I raise a brow and Cassian kisses me.

“Please?”

“Alright, Rodriguez. I won’t forget.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Fenrys is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever met in my life. Like Rhys, and Dorian. He is just as flirtatious as Aelin and Cassian are but his twin brother is way more reserved and I am not surprised to see Connall navigate towards Azriel. Aelin’s cousin could pass as her twin brother but he also reminds me of Cassian in a way.

“Evangeline is amazing. I love having her in class,” I say to Lysandra and Aedion who are looking at her fondly. Evangeline is blushing. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with for the art show.”

Rhys and Lucien finally show up, with Helion and Aurelie in tow.

“Sorry we’re late,” Rhys says.

“You went black Friday shopping, didn’t you?” Cas asks and Rhys just shrugs.

“He and Mor were gone all morning,” Lucien replies and Rhys looks at him as though he’s been betrayed. “Hungover my ass.”

“Well, I’m here now!”

Lucien rolls his eyes and ties up his hair.

“I will ask one of Rowan’s friends to switch with me so I can kick your ass,” Lucien snaps at Rhys.

“Do it then.”

“Hey, I know you two like to argue as foreplay but this is Feyre’s first game as Cassian’s girlfriend,” Azriel says in a rather saccharine tone. It’s almost condescending. “Let them have their moment.”

I can’t help but laugh as Rhys and Lucien practically pry me away from Cassian to apologize and hug and kiss me profusely. I can hear Adela scolding Azriel but the tone in her voice is jovial.

Vinny calls for them to separate into teams. Lucien does in fact switch places with Fenrys, who is all too happy to be on ‘the team that Feyre is cheering for’.

I take my seat beside my sister and Adela as everyone takes their place on the muddy field. Vinny is acting as goal keeper. I had always cheered the boys on, though Elain and Adela are always the most vocal. Nothing has changed in the way Cassian smiles when our eyes meet, or the way I jump to my feet to cheer him on as he makes a goal. I just can’t believe I’d never noticed it before. I have been to nearly every one of Cassian’s footballs games, even when he was dating Nesta. I’ve seen him lose some, seen him win but it never gets old.

Aelin is betting Elide that Cassian is going to hand Lorcan his ass while Manon shouts at Rowan’s team- she should have been a coach. They don’t get into a fight, but it is obvious they are not used to actually having to worry about the opposing team. It’s amusing, but I know that someone is going to be bruised and aching later.

When the game is over, I am not surprised that Cassian’s team won but I am caught off guard as Cassian makes his way to me and lifts me off my feet. He kisses me, ignoring Elyse’s sounds of disgust. When we stop to breathe, I smooth his hair away from his face.

“Your football games would have been so much more fun if this was how they ended,” I say teasingly. Cassian laughs. “That was a good game, Cas.”

“I am beat,” he says as he sets me down.

“You guys were showing off.”

“Of course,” he says as he throws an arm around my shoulder. “I have to impress my girlfriend.”

I poke his side. “You don’t have to impress me. Win or lose, I am always proud of you.”

Cas looks at me and smiles.

“Hey, Cas!” Lorcan shouts as Elide hands him a small ice pack. “Rematch next weekend?”

“You’re on Salvaterre!”

Elide and I share the same look of exasperation.

*

“So, bunny, I made a stop or two before Az and I went to the park.”

“Did you?”

I follow him into the garage. He turns the light on and there are several bags and a large box…

“You got a Christmas tree?”

I walk right over to it and turn it to see the picture. It’s pre-lit, which is smart and has little red berries in it.

“If you don’t like the ornaments, I’ll go change them for something else.”

I give him a look before I look through the bags.

“Red and gold is perfect, Cas.”

“You sure?”

I nod. “Can we put it up tonight?”

He smiles. “I was hoping to.”

“Perfect.”

“I want to shower first though…”

I wave him off. “I’ll go preheat the oven for cookies and put a movie on.”

*

I pull a pair of stockings out of a bag and laugh.

“Cas, you didn’t!” They are red knit stockings with our monograms on them in white, there is even one for Val. “I love them so much.”

“Where should we hang them up?”

I look around the living room and my eyes fall on the little accent table he has against the wall where he’s setting up the tree. He keeps the remotes and controllers to his game consoles in there among other things. He has a few picture frames on it but nothing more.

“If you’re not opposed to putting holes in the wall… Maybe we can put a little shelf up there? I can put lights and our Yule log up there and then hang the stockings from it.”

Cassian looks at where I point to and gives a nod.

“Yeah… I think that would be nice. Let me get the tree up and then I’ll go see what I have in the garage.”

Once the tree is up and plugged in, Cassian disappears into the garage. I start putting up the ornaments- red and gold traditional ornaments, glittery birds and butterflies, snowflakes and icicles. I hear hammering and then the loud clang of the hammer falling before the drill goes off. Val and I look towards the garage curiously.

Cassian comes back with a shelf and the drill, as well as the leveler ruler.

“Tell me where,” he says and I set the box of ornaments down to mark the right spot on the wall. Val barks as Cassian drills the nails into the wall but stops when Cas looks back at him. Once the shelf is up, I hand Cassian the Yule log to set in the middle, then the candles decorated with holly and pine before he carefully arranges the white Christmas lights around them. He hides the switch behind one of the candles.

Cassian is grinning after I finish putting up the stockings and I find myself blushing.

“What?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know… It’s nice. Getting to do this with you.”

I slide my arm around his waist.

“It is, isn’t it?” I lean into him. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

“Neither have I.” He presses a kiss to the top of my hair. “Outside of family, anyway.”

I laugh. “How did you even manage to find a shelf so quickly?”

“Oh… Well, it had been meant for the guest room but I never got around to it so it had been sitting in the garage since I got the house.”

“I’m glad I was able to give it purpose.”

“Yeah… you do have a tendency of doing that.”

I poke his side. “Stop it.”

“Seriously… Anyway, let’s go finish the tree. Rudolph is starting soon and I want to be laying down by then.”

“We have that movie on DVD, Cassian.”

“But you know it isn’t the same.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. But I know he’s right.

*

I come back from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a mug full of milk. Cassian is sitting on the sofa with his sketchbook on his lap while he flips through the channels.

“Here,” I say and hand him the plate before I pull down the little arm rest of the sofa to set the mug in a cupholder. It’s a perfect excuse to take his sketchbook and sit on his lap. I reach for the blanket and drape it over our legs as he slides an arm around me, holding me against him.

“So, I had free time at work the other day and was just… drawing bullshit. Warming up. Az wants to add to his sleeve but he hasn’t decided how. Anyway, I was sketching some shit out and I got this idea.”

Cassian sets the remote aside and opens his sketchbook. I’m mesmerized by all that I see as he flips through it and then he stops.

“It wasn’t supposed to be you, but when I started drawing her face… I couldn’t help it.”

“This is beautiful, Cassian.”

She’s a faerie of some kind, with wings like a bat rather than butterflies and a crown of moons on her head. Her dress isn’t complete, but I can tell it will be a gown of some sort.

“Lorcan saw it when he and Rowan stopped by to go over our plans for today.”

“I hope you finish it.”

“Yeah?” He kisses my cheek.

“I’ll let you tattoo it on me somewhere.”

“Bunny, don’t tease me like that. You know Rhys has been trying to be the one to give you your first tattoo.”

“He can give me my second one.”

“You serious?”

“I mean… why not? I would wait until Christmas break though-”

Cassian kisses me.

“I’ll make you something better than this. I promise,” he kisses me again. “But first, our movie marathon.”

I laugh. “I love you so much, Cassian.”

“I love you too, bunny.”

[lesbian-deadpool]

HOW DO I HANUKKAH?!

Natasha x Reader

Modern AU

Words: 1,103

Warnings: Swearing, it's me, let’s just always assume there's swearing. Pietro... that’s pretty much it. Ends on a kinda cliffhanger.

Request: Nah.

Summary: You know nothing about Hanukkah, Pietro’s weird, but what else is new?

A/N: It's late, and I'm sorry about that. I know nothing about the Jewish religion, as you can probably tell from this fic. But hey, I tried. It’s not the best still. Writer's block os owning my ass. Honestly, there's not much about Hanukkah in this. Mainly just Pietro being weird.

(Not my gif)

"Wait. So you're telling me, that you give gifts, for eight days straight?" you ask form your very adult spot inside the trolley, legs spread taking up as much space as possible.

"Yes- Well, we celebrate for eight days. But we usually give gifts during that time," Natasha explained as she looked through the ugly Christmas sweaters. Because however hard she tried to hide it, she was a complete dork.

"Right, and all of this is because of some magic oil?"

"It's not really magic," said Wanda walking around the corner, two dresses in her hands, "But yes." She turned to Natasha. "Which one do you think, for Stark's party?" she asked moving each dress in front of herself.

"Why are they sparkly?" you asked regarding the silver and red dresses.

"Because it's festive. And the red one, Wanda." Wanda nodded at Natasha's answer, throwing the red dress over your legs, then turning around to return the other dress to its original spot.

"Well, who knows," Natasha started moving to face you, "Maybe I'll get one of those sparkly dresses, then you'll have to wear something sparkly to match." she smiled watching your eyes go wide, and mouth drop in over exaggerated horror. "Or, we could wear matching sweaters."

"Wow, how to choose between two equally awful things?" you hummed in fake contemplation, as Natasha continued browsing the Christmas sweaters.

"Well, I for one will look fabulous at the party," Pietro's voice sounded behind you, making you and Natasha turn to face him.

There Pietro stood, looking down at the price-tags in his hand's that were still attached to the clothes he wore. The ride a camel costume clashed terribly with his blue Christmas sweater, silver suit blazer, and green shoes.

You turned back to Natasha while pointing at the an behind you. "I'll wear anything you want, as long as it's not that."

"Not what?" Wanda asked before her eyes fell on her older brother. With her eyes hazed over, she asked, "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Hey, you best take that foul language out of your God damn mouth, before Steve hears," you said.

"Don't hate me cause you ain't me, Wanda." Pietro posed. "We both know I'm the better-looking sibling."

"Wearing that?" you asked.

"Really?" Natasha asked.

"Ha!" Wanda laughed.

"You all suck!" Pietro huffed crossing his arms.

***

"I can't believe you're buying that fucking costume," you said to Pietro between glances at the camel costume that sat at your feet in the trolley, as you waited in line to pay for your stuff.

"I like it!"

"This is why mom and dad hope you marry rich."

"Oh!" Fucking burn!" you laughed hitting him with a roll of wrapping paper.

"And your parents just hope you get married," Natasha smiled from her spot next to Wanda at the foot of the trolley.

"Hey!" You pointed at her with the wrapping paper. "You're on the receiving end of that."

Her smile fell, whispering, "Shit." before shaking her head, and stating, "I'm leaving you."

"Hey!"

"Ha! We'll both be single." Pietro gasped clapping his hands together. "We can be each other's wingmen!"

You turned to stare at Natasha. "Please never leave me."

***

You hummed at the warm feeling seeping into your bones, a stark contrast to the cold outside. Half asleep you moved closer to the source of the heat. Wrapping your arms around Natasha you pulled her close, the softness of her body pressed against yours, lulling you back to sleep.

"Wake up lesbians!" Pietro bound into your room, startling you both awake.

"What the hell, Pietro?!" you yelled.

"Look at my hair!" he said excitedly. And you could tell just from the tone of his voice, that he was bouncing up and down slightly.

You moved to look at him, seeing his we hair dyed from his natural dark brown to a bright white, resembling the snow falling outside.

"What did you do to your hair?" Natasha asked.

"I dyed it."

"I see that. It's blinding me."

"Is this a Jewish thing?" you asked Natasha.

"No. This is a Pietro thing."

"You can talk. You dye your hair, too," Pietro argued.

"I don't dye my hair."

"You don't?" Natasha shook her head at the man. "That's natural? Wow." Pietro sighed in homage, to which you furrowed your eyebrows.

"It's too early for this shit," you groaned throwing your head back and placing your hands over your eyes in a bid to block out the light.

"Yeah. Let's just agree that my hair's better, and move on," Natasha said playfully.

"Never! My hair is like fresh snow. Yours is like blood."

"Which makes my hair cool. I don't need to dye my hair for that."

"Oh, my God! It is way too early to be having this discussion- again!" You pushed yourself up with one hand, using your other to bang against the thin wall of your apartment, hoping to gain the attention of your neighbour. "Wanda! Your brother's being weird!"

"Piss off, we're trying to sleep!" she yelled back.

"So were we!"

"You get grumpy early in the morning," Pietro regarded.

You reached over, grabbing a random object from your bedside table. "You better get the fuck out, before I shover," you glanced at the wooden toy in your hand, noticing the blue symbols on its sides. "This... spinny thing up your ass!"

"Honey, that's a dreidel," Natasha explained.

You looked at her smiling face. "Then he'll be getting a dreidel up the anal."

"You said it wrong," Pietro snickered making you snap to face him, a glare upon your face, as you started to get up. "Nope, bye!" And with that Pietro ran from the room, the slam of the door telling you he had left the apartment you shared with your girlfriend.

"Finally," you sighed laying back down, "We gotta move. I still can't believe we had the unfortunate luck of moving in between the Maximoff twins. And now we're spending a weekend with them."

"We don't have to do that, you know?" said Natasha as she snuggled closer into you.

"No, you're coming with me to my whacked out family's Christmas dinner. I can spend a Hanukkah weekend with our friends... I can't guarantee that they'll all survive though."

"Don't worry. I'll help you," Natasha's voice was sleepy as you rubbed along her side.

Time passed, you're not sure how long but it was enough for you to ease into a light slumber. Everything was peaceful up until you heard screeching through your thin wall.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?!"