#then an hour later you interrupt business to look at a newborn on the floor. yeah

[sickficsies-and-whumpsies]

hi! can I ask sick yuji + megumi w/ caretaker!nobara? i was thinking like a stomach bug/high fever? their friendship dynamic makes me really soft <3

Hi!! Finally, a request for the power trio, I have been waiting for this hahah!!

TW: vomiting, fever.

1.7k words, Gen.

ーーー

“No. No. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Believe me, I feel exactly the sa一” a powerful sneeze cuts Megumi off, followed by a pained groan.

Nobara rolls her eyes, arms crossed as she watches her friend pull the blanket tighter around his own shoulders, shivering like a newborn kitty, eyes glassy and watery. She sighs.

“So you’re sick, and the other dumbass is sick too.”

A nod.

“And I’m the only one available to take care of you two.”

Another nod, reluctant. Nobara exhales, mildly annoyed. “Are you positive Yuuji’s sick? So sick that he needs any help at all?”

Megumi’s whole form shakes, and Nobara thinks he’d look adorable if not for the scowl on his face, thin eyebrows scrunched together. “I heard him vomit a little before you came here. He did it a few hours ago, too.”

“Don’t make it sound like I did it on purpose, and not because you sent your dog to get me.” she huffs, “Listen, I can’t and won’t go back and forth between your rooms, so you’re either coming to Yuuji’s, or I’m dragging him here.”

The boy pauses, pensive. “Get him here, please. My room’s cleaner, and his probably smells like puke by now.”

“So be it, then.” 

She makes a move to leave, but on the threshold, she glances back.

Megumi looks dead on his feet, it’s quite a worrying sight, in all honesty. His porcelain complexion has taken a deathly tinge, cheeks flushed of an unnatural red, contrast strong against the white skin. His hair is unusually down, bangs plastered to his sweaty forehead, locks soiled and damp. 

And everything about the shikigami sorcerer’s posture screams agony, the way he’s sitting on the edge of his messy bed, blanket draped over him, whole body hunched over, weak. 

“Will you be okay for a few minutes?” Nobara asks, suddenly aware that letting her friends die would be definitely frowned upon and sad.

“I,” he swallows, throat dry, “I think s-so.” He sounds unsure, but Nobara takes his word and leaves, hurrying to the adjacent room. 

She doesn’t bother knocking. The acrid smell of vomit hits her, making her waver on the threshold for a moment before she makes a jog towards the other end of the room and opens a window, letting the fresh morning breeze rush in and purify the environment. 

“Yuuji?” she calls then, moving towards the bathroom, “It’s Nobara. Are you okay?”

She peeks inside, door slightly ajar. With a yell caught in her throat, she immediately slams the door open, flinging herself at her friend, who’s lying next to the toilet, face pressed against the freezing tiles. He’s deathly still, and the nail sorcerer’s heart stops for a second. 

But then, Yuuji moans. She immediately drops to her knees, hands hovering uncertainly. 

“Yuuji? Hey?”

The boy doesn’t stir. Nobara gingerly extends a hand, patting her friend’s cheek delicately to rouse him, “Come on, you need to move to Megumi’s room so that I can take care of your sorry asses. Yuuji? Wakey-wakey, time to get up.” The lightness of her words isn’t enough to mask the edge of concern behind them. 

But, they do the trick. Yuuji slowly blinks, sheepish, a hand moving from where it’s laying, on his side, to his face, rubbing at it. “...Nobara?” 

“You sound like shit.” she hisses, “How much have you thrown up?”

He hesitates. “Six t’mes. Maybe mo’...” Yuuji croaks out, voice broken.

“Do you think you can get up with my help?”

“But... s’nice here…”

“It isn’t. The smell is terrible and the floor is filthy.” she bits, “Megumi’s sick, too. He hasn’t thrown up, I think, but he’s running a high fever. Speaking of which…” she gently presses a hand against Yuuji’s forehead, then his neck, and his forehead again, “You don’t feel too warm, luckily. But I need to keep an eye on you both and it’d be easier for me if you two were in the same room.”

“Megumi’s sick? S’he ‘kay?”

She smiles, sympathetic, “Better off than you, for sure. Come on, now, let’s get you up. We’ll take it slow.” 

With calculated movements, and so very carefully, Yuuji sits up, eyes squeezed shut as nausea washes over him like a tidal wave. Nobara keeps a strong hand on his back, and uses her other one to grab at Yuuji’s wrist and gently drag him upright, steadying him when he tilts slightly. 

“I stink…” the boy murmurs under his breath, cheeks heating up.

“I’m sure Megumi won’t mind if you use his shower. Let’s get going, he’s probably worried. I am too. Wouldn’t want him to die under my watch, you know?” she jokes, and Yuuji smiles, albeit briefly.

On the way out of the bathroom, Nobara extends a hand and grabs her friend’s toothbrush, handing it to him, “For later.”

The road back takes an embarrassingly long time, considering that the two manage to walk the ten meters of distance between one door and the other in almost five minutes, having to stop every step because of false alarms and dizzy spells.

“We’re back.” Nobara announces as soon as they step in. Megumi’s once sitting form is now laying on his side, legs bent awkwardly and dangling off the side of the bed. 

He really just fell there, huh? 

Nobara quickly guides Yuuji to sit on the opposite edge of the bed, and makes a dash to the bathroom to retrieve a plastic basin and a plastic glass of tap water. “Drink slowly.” she says, handing the items to her sick friend. 

He nods, grateful, and lets Nobara help him to sit with his back against the wooden headboard, a spare pillow supporting his lower back. “I’ll go fetch something for the nausea after I take care of Megumi, alright?”

“Dun need to speak to me like tha’...” he snorts, weak, “M’not a baby.”

“You are. He is, too. Now relax.” she says, and despite her words, the tone is soft, caring. 

Nobara walks to the other side of the bed, and wraps her arms around the cocoon of blankets that her friend has enveloped himself into, propping the teen up and with his head on the pillow. She then lifts his ankles, and sets his lanky legs on the bed. 

Then, one after the other, the blankets are gone, leaving Megumi’s shivering body exposed, him shaking like a leaf despite the fuzzy socks and jumper. The thermometer is already on the bedside table, and Nobara is quick to reach for it and slide it under her friend’s sweaty armpit.

It beeps after less than a minute. “39,9°C? Megumi, shit, what the一 you didn’t tell me it was this bad.” she cringes. 

Once she’s sure that the boy won’t roll off the bed with his shivers and little jerking motions, Nobara heads for the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets hastily. 

“God bless, this is one stocked med-kit.” she hums to herself, “Hot patches, for Yuuji’s stomach. Then, hm, what’s in here一 oh, anti-nausea, good, and paracetamol suppositories...” she stops, eyes wide. “The ones that…? Okay, you know what, he can handle that on his own, none of my business.”

Her muttering is interrupted by the sound of Yuuji giving a strong productive heave, and another one, dry, judging by the lack of other disturbing sounds. Nobara immediately goes back to the bedroom, at Yuuji’s side in an instant. 

“Shh, it’s okay, try to breathe deeply.” She rubs soothing circles on his back as Yuuji dry-heaves and sputters, eyes bloodshot. She briefly glances into the basin, heart clenching as she sees the water he’s just drunk. “You’re fine, you’re going to be fine. I got you some anti-nausea meds, you can take them dry so you don’t have to worry about drinking anymore, okay?”

He gives a shaky nod, breath hitched. “S’rry, m’sorry.”

“None of that. Breathe through your nose, Yuuji, you’re fine.” The gentle hand on his back never stops moving, and it takes longer than he’d like to admit for the bout and panic to die down. He sinks back, head hitting against the headboard quite violently.

Nobara is quick to hand him a pill, with a pained smile. “Here.”

And Sukuna’s vessel takes it without further ado, swallowing it down with ease, eyes shut as he focuses on his breaths. That’s Nobara’s cue to extract a hot patch from the container. “I’m going to lift your hoodie and put this on your stomach, okay? It will help, I promise.”

He nods, and she’s rapid to apply the patch. “Give it a few minutes.” she says, and instinctively brings a hand up to smooth back his hair, damp. “Rest.”

Megumi hasn’t stopped tossing and turning, hugging himself for warmth, knees drawn close to his chest. Nobara sighs. She returns to the bathroom, taking the basin with her and quickly rinsing it in the shower. Then, she grabs a clean towel, and runs it under the stream of cold water. Heedless of the drops that fall onto the floor, she moves back to the bedroom, and gingerly sets the cold towel upon Megumi’s forehead, shushing him gently when he whimpers like a kicked puppy. 

“It’s okay, this will help you. Leave it on.” she says.

Then, she sets the basin next to Yuuji’s side of the bed. A quick look at the guy is enough to tell that he’s spent, conked out, and Nobara is gentle and swift when she moves him into a lying position, on his side, head facing the outside of the bed. He barely reacts, too out of it to wake up entirely.

Finally, Nobara retrieves the paracetamol, “Hey.” she calls, delicately nudging Megumi, “I need you to take one of these. I can help but frankly, I’d rather die.” she chuckles. 

Megumi, too, is too exhausted to do much beyond a tiny smile. “Later, m’tired.”

“...Fine. But if your fever’s not down by half a degree in an hour, you’re taking it or I’m getting someone else to do it. Your choice.”

He scoffs, shivering, “A’ight.”

She sighs. She could go back to her room and come back later, but frankly, she’d feel bad if something happened to her friends during her absence. 

“Move” Nobara says, and scoots in between her friends.

“Wasn’t aware m’room had b’come a hostel.”

“Shut it, you should be sleeping.” she says, side-eyeing Megumi with an amused smile, no real malice in her tone. Once she feels her friends relax and drift off, Nobara finally allows herself to rest.

ーーー

Let me know what you think of this, and if you have an ao3 hit me up so that I can gift this to you once I post it there!!

September 5, 2021.

[doc-pickles]

happy anniversary!!!

hello friends, a sappy order of business for the day. one year ago today I posted the first chapter of ‘it’s nothing funny just to talk’. that fic and the outpouring of love from the jolex fandom is what got me to keep writing, keep posting, and eventually got me to start the jolex group chat and find a group of people who I love deeply and consider some of my closest friends. today is a very special anniversary and i’m so excited to be able to celebrate it.

so in honor of this super exciting day here’s another installment of my ‘it’s nothing funny just to talk’ follow up series. enjoy and thank you tons for all your love and support! also definitely didn’t post this at 11:55….

xoxo nina

“You’re going to have to quit your job.”

“Sorry what?”

“I can’t do this Alex! I need you to come back home.”

Jo’s pleading voice tugged at Alex’s heart strings, wishing desperately that he could come back home. It was his first day back at work from paternity leave and he’d hated leaving Jo and Annie earlier that morning. Annie had been going through a growth spurt and eating more frequently, leaving Jo exhausted and worn down during the day from being up all night nursing. Alex did his best to help her out during the day but now that he was working again he knew she was probably struggling.

“You’ve been gone for five hours and I’m pretty sure she’s been nursing for four and half of those. I tried to get up to pee and she just wouldn’t stop screaming,” Jo sounds like she’s on the verge of screaming as well, quiet sobs echoing across the phone line. “I can’t do this, I’m not supposed to be a mom. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

“Babe, you’re the best mom I’ve ever met. I’m sure you’re doing fi-,” a loud wail interrupts Alex’s statement as Annie begins to cry. “Put me on speaker.”

As Jo wrestles with both the phone and Annie, Alex sneaks off to a quieter hallway of the peds ward. He looks around to make sure none of his colleagues are close by as he hears Jo attempting to calm Annie down again.

“Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long,” as soon as Alex began to sing the old tune Annie’s cries started to lessen. He paused for a moment, continuing again when Annie began to fuss. “And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong?”

As Alex continued to sing, Annie’s cries began to get quieter until they were nonexistent. Finally he heard Jo let out a sigh as she spoke up, “She’s finally asleep in her bassinet. Thank you, I was starting to lose my mind.”

“Go take a shower and then take a nap. I won’t be too late today,” Alex’s eyes flicked down to the golden band on his left hand, trying to convince himself that the perfect life he was living wasn’t a dream. “I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too. And thank you for calming her down,” Jo’s voice finally sounded calm as she let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re my husband.”

“And I’m glad you’re my wife,” Alex and Jo exchanged goodbyes before he hung up, turning to go back towards the main area of the pediatrics floor.

“So do you normally sing the Beach Boys to everyone you talk to or is that just a Tuesday thing,” Alex almost jumps six feet in the air at the sound of Arizona’s voice, turning to eye the blonde who’s wearing a wide smile. “Go home, I know you just got back but it sounds like you’re needed much more there than you are here.”

“Robbins I’m fine-“

“You might be fine but your wife is probably struggling at home,” Arizona shoots him an understudying look before turning back to the chart in her hands. “Besides we’re over staffed here anyways, you going home helps us out.”

Alex only hesitated for a moment before squeezing Arizona into a tight hug and heading towards the attendings lounge to grab his wallet and keys. Any other day he would’ve fought back and tried to stay for the rest of his shift, but deep down he knew that he really was needed more at home.

After stopping to pick up a pizza Alex made his way home, grinning to himself as he walked through the door of the loft. Jo was laid across their bed, one hand resting on Annie’s chest as she laid in her bassinet. Both girls were fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that he’d just walked through the door. Setting down the pizza on the counter, Alex busied himself picking up around the loft and straightening things out.

“Alex? What’re you doing here?”

Jo’s voice prompts him to turn around, moving from the couch where he was folding laundry to the empty side of the bed, “Over staffed at work, Robbins sent me home. But it looks like you two have it under control.”

“She’s gonna be up soon to eat,” Jo laid her head in Alex’s lap, his fingers threading through her hair as her eyes closed. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost… 2 o’clock. Hey look at that,” Alex looked down to his phone, a smirk lighting up his face. “It’s our anniversary.”

While they truly hadn’t gotten together until Jackson and April’s wedding, Alex and Jo had made it a tradition to celebrate their relationship a few weeks before on the date that Jo had first texted him. Now though, on their third anniversary, both of them had forgotten about the day.

“I knew I was forgetting something,” Jo groaned, looking up at Alex. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything for you, I can barely remember to shower everyday.”

“It’s okay, I forgot too,” Alex leaned down to press a kiss against Jo’s forehead, grinning as he looked over at Annie. “We have a newborn, we’re allowed to drop the ball on these things.”

“Next year though, I’m gonna go all out,” Jo grinned, letting a groan out just a moment later when Annie began to fuss. “What did I tell you?”

Alex moved to grab Annie, watching as she blinked up at him in fascination. The little girl in his arms was everything to him, her and Jo being the center of his whole world.

“Annie say thank you to mommy for getting drunk and texting daddy,” Alex grinned through Jo’s protests, continuing to talk to the infant. “If she hadn’t done that none of us would be here right now. And I don’t know about you but I really like having you and mommy around.”

“Well when you put it like that, you’re welcome,” Jo leaned up and pressed a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I guess I made a good call, right Doctor Evil Spawn?”

“Of course you did Bar Princess.”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//my greatest adventure is you

Request: Can you do a dad (newborn-ish) sweet pea imagine

hey! title is kind of stolen from a quote i saw on pinterest and part from my own brain so its okay! how are you all? i hope you’re good! i also hope you like this! its cute and sweet and just very nice! byeeee 

Two weeks ago your life changed completely. 

And for two weeks you and Sweet Pea have been living in a post baby, sleep deprived, bliss. 

Days of the week have long been forgotten, neither of you know the time. It’s either light or dark and that’s good enough for you. Both of you have only been outside a handful of times and they’re only for two hours at the most. 

You’ve worn nothing but pyjama’s, washed your hair enough times to count on just one hand and smell like baby puke and milk. 

But it’s perfect. 

Everything and everyone revolves around the perfect bundle of joy that you’ve brought into the world, and that is how it was supposed to be. You’ve had visitors from just about everybody you know. 

Family, friends, neighbours, as well as their family and friend. You’ve had everyone wanting to come and see your daughter, all of which bring toys, clothes, keepsakes, balloons, flowers and everything in-between. 

Which is of course lovely and very helpful. Especially when you’re dealing with the fullest nappy and think you’ve run out of wipes but Sweet Pea finds three packs of them under a pile of clothes that are yet to be worn. 

Plus, they also bring you presents to which you definitely aren’t complaining about. You’ve got so many pairs of pajama’s you’re not gonna need any for years. 

But it also brings problems. 

Because you and Sweet Pea may have read every baby/parenting book, blog and magazine known to man. But what they don’t prepare you for is how you’re supposed to fit everything into a tiny two bedroom house. 

“How does a tiny baby need all of this equipment?” You ask, staring at the black hole of boxes that is your living room. Even sat on the couch there’s boxes and bags stacked around you and the two of you honestly have no idea where to start. “I mean, what the hell even is this?” You add, picking up some sort of weird looking piece of plastic. 

Sweet Pea looks at it, a frown on his face before it lights up and he searches through some papers on the small table beside him. He holds a booklet up, a triumphant smile stretching across his lips before he starts reading. 

The smile slowly starts to fade the more he reads to himself and you sit in silence, an eyebrow raised while you wait for him to tell you. 

“Oo, erm. Apparently it tells you why the baby is crying.” He says, looking between you and the what you now realize is the instructions. 

The only way you can describe his expression is puzzled, as he takes the baby crying machine from you, placing it beside the instructions and just staring at the two. 

“Who the hell bought this?” He asks, resting his chin in his hands. You run your fingers through his hair, trying to calm the curls down a little and he lets out a content sigh, giving you a tired smile as he does so. 

You mirror it and nudge his leg with your own. You lean your head on his shoulder, and he places his head on top. The two of you look over the paper and plastic again, reading and re-reading the instructions as it takes a while to actually understand what they are trying to say. Its seems both you and Sweet Pea have ended up developing baby-brain.

“I think it was your Auntie Agnes.” 

“Of course it was.” He chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

“What are the options?” You ask. 

“Hungry, tired, changing, attention, stressed.” He says and you send him a look. 

“Stressed? What an earth could a baby be stressed about? They don’t pay taxes, they don’t have to work.” You reply grumpily making him laugh and kiss you again.

“Technically we don’t have to pay taxes.” 

“Technically we do if we don’t want to go to jail.” You reply. 

“Who says I’d get caught.” He replies proudly. 

“Me.” You reply bluntly and he stares at you offended. 

“Rude.” 

“True though.” You tease and grab the strange device from him, looking it over a few times before looking back at him. “So, where’s this going?” 

“Back of the cupboard normally. Proudly on display when Auntie Agnes actually comes to visit?” 

“Deal.” You agree. “I’ll find a place for it and you start on that box there.” 

“Which one?” 

“The huge red one right in front of your face.” You huff and he flips you off. 

You send him a sarcastic smile in return before disappearing into the kitchen to find a space for the stupid bit of plastic. 

“Why this one specifically?” He calls after you. 

“Its from Toni and Cheryl and I’m excited to see what ridiculous things Cheryl has spent a fuck-ton of money on.” You reply, your voice giddy but muffled by the cupboard you’ve currently got your head in. 

Sweet Pea shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his lips as he listens to you excitedly ramble about what it could be. 

He pulls on the end of the bow and it falls off the wooden box and onto the carpeted floor. A bemused smile takes over his appearance as he carefully picks the lid up and places it beside him.

“Holy shit.” His eyes widen. “Y/n? Y/n get in here!” 

“Wha-ow! Shit.” 

“Did you hit your head?” He asks, sending you a sympathetic smile when he notices you standing in the doorway, rubbing your head.

 “Yeah.” You nod and flop down beside him again. “So, what is it?” You ask excitedly. 

“You’re not going to believe it.” He replies and moves further towards the box. You follow him until your sat on the edge of the sofa and your eyes widen when you look at what it is. 

“Is that?” You ask, looking at him and then back at the present. 

“Yep.” 

Staring back at the two of you is a giant rocking horse. Like it’s massive, like Toni could definitely fit on it and it would look normal, massive even. Hanging around its neck is what looks like a diamond encrusted dummy and you and Sweet Pea just stare at each other in disbelief. 

A red, handwritten card sits on top of it and you grab it, turning it around and reading aloud. 

‘Y/n and Sweet Pea, 

Congratulations on your new arrival! We can’t wait to meet her properly. You’re going to be amazing parents, and we’re always here if you need us. Hopefully we’ll be able to organize a play date between her and JJ soon, but until then enjoy new parenthood. 

Love Cheryl, Toni and JJ.

ps: I told Cheryl you didn’t need a giant horse or diamond encrusted dummy or the other 5, very expensive gifts that are currently being shipped from Italy, but she didn’t listen, so sorry in advance. And again, congratulations!! We’re so proud of both of you!!’

“Another 5 gifts from Italy?” Sweet Pea repeats.

“Another 5, expensive gifts from Italy.” You correct. 

“They have far too much money for their own good.” 

“God knows where this is going to go.” You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips as you tuck the card back into the box and place the lid back on top. “Which one should we do ne-” Your interrupted by a small cry and the two of you stop what you’re doing to listen, waiting to see if she’ll settle back down. The crying only grows louder and you and Pea share a look. 

“I’ll get her.” He says and you expression softens. 

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He replies, fighting his way through the boxes and bags trapping the two of you. “I just googled how much that rocking horse is so I’m gonna go cry with her.” He says making you laugh. “You keep going down here.” 

“Wait, how did that happen? You get to cuddle a cute baby and I have to figure out where to put bottles and diapers and...horses?” 

“Unlucky.” He shrugs and gives you a sarcastic smile before running up the stairs. 

Two minutes later and she’s stopped crying. A relieved smile takes over your face as you fold what seems like the millionth baby grow. But twenty minutes after that, Sweet Pea hasn’t come back down yet, and that makes you suspicious. 

Because he’s either fallen asleep, or he’s just pretending to still be busy so he doesn’t have to help with this. If he’s asleep, you’re joining him, whether he’s on the bed or under it, you don’t care. But if not, you bet his ass you are dragging him back down the stairs.

You slowly make your way up the stairs, balancing a few pieces of clothing in your hands to put away. The door to your bedroom is cracked open slightly and instead of going straight into the nursery, you hold back and watch as Sweet Pea rocks her gently. 

His back is to you so he hasn’t noticed your presence, and he’s pulling the funniest faces at her, the sight making your heart melt. Your entire universe in one room, within two people, one tall and the other tiny. 

It makes all the chaos worth it. 

“There once was a shoe, who’s best friend was a lace.” Sweet Pea starts, balancing a baby book in his hands as he keeps tight hold of your daughter. “They went everywhere together. But one day, the shoe stepped in a puddle and the lace got dirty so-what kind of story is this?” He complains, shaking his head as he puts it down. 

“Okay, Daisy. I’ve got a much better story to tell you anyway.” He whispers into the dark room and carefully sits down in the rocking chair. “So, me and your mom have known each other for so long. Longer than you can even comprehend, not that you can comprehend much at the minute. But one day when your bigger you’ll understand. We’ve known each other since we were younger than you, thats right, we were best friends before we were born. And there hasn’t been a day that she hasn’t been around. And they’ll never be a day where she isn’t here for you either. Both of us are always going to be here.” He says, his voice gentle. 

His tone is full of so much love that it makes you tear up...stupid hormones. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life loving your little family, and you’re so happy that its Sweet Pea that you’re doing it with. You can’t imagine a life without him, you never want to. 

“You have your entire life ahead of you and we’re going to make sure you live the best one you can. Because you can do anything. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t, but you’ve only been here two weeks and you’ve brought so much wonder and magic to mine and your mom’s world, so who knows what you’re going to do to the rest of it.” He continues and you hug the clothes your holding tighter to your chest, despite the fact that you’re crying all over them. 

“We’re going to love you no matter what. No matter who you are or who you love or what you do. As long as you’re safe and happy, thats good enough for us.” He says, a sweet smile on his lips as he stares down at her in awe. “Now, go to sleep and have the sweetest dreams you can think of and when you wake up, your mom and me will both be here for you. Thats a promise.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her head before placing her gently back in her crib. 

You take that as you cue to walk in, avoiding the creaky floorboard that you and Sweet Pea have already memorized the position of. He hears the door open and his smile grows when he notices you. You return it, your eyes tired and your hair messy and your clothes the same as they were two days ago. But to him you look the most beautiful you ever have. 

He has never loved anyone more, well, apart from Daisy. But you’re the reason she’s here and he’s never ever going to be able to thank you enough for that. 

You quietly place the pile of clothes on top of the drawers, vowing to put them away tomorrow. Them, the presents downstairs and the the rest of the world can wait, you want to enjoy this for as long as you can. 

Sweet Pea grabs your hand and pulls you gently towards him. The two of you lean over the crib, watching Daisy sleep peacefully. His hands rest gently on your shoulders and you give them a squeeze, your fingers intertwining.

“Do you think babies can dream?” You wonder, looking up at Pea.

“I really do hope so.” 

[spookyswhore]

What You Gonna Do When They Come for You? (Oscar Diaz x Reader)

Summary: Creating a new life from Freeridge may have been more of a nightmare than a blessing. After a life altering decision, what you gonna do when they come for you?

Word count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: this is a request from @tinnadh7 , hope you like. Sorry I’ve been away for so long between graduating and going to college everything has been stressing me out lol

Freeridge still looked the same as it did before you left. Shit, it even smelled the same too. Cigarettes, alchohol, and 15 years later, you were now back in town after your move to New York. Right after your high school graduation, you moved out of state to New York to pursue your dreams of becoming a detective. Watching crime shows like The First 48 and Cops (and singing very passionately to the theme song) only put that final nail in the coffin and cemented your decision to become a part of the police force. Now here you were sitting on your older sister’s couch, a glass of wine sat chilled in your hand and you were clad in a sweater and some sweats with your hair in a ponytail. She lived in Brentwood, maintaning the life you were struggling to build, on your end. Her huge house, quiet neighborhood, and peace were all some things you wanted to acquire at some point in your life. That point is just not now.

"What are you doing here?" Your sister asked. By the tone of her voice, you could tell she wasn't exactly the happiest to see you. After you left, you lost contact with everything and everyone that was involved with Freeridge, which didn’t really sit right with her. After all, family was everything.

“I need somewhere to stay…” You said. You silently hoped that she would let go the grudge she held against you for the last 15 years and not be petty enough to not accpet her sister into her home. You both were raised on ‘Family First’ and you had no idea whether she was going to go against all that you were raised on.

“I’m not going to stay here forever. I just- I just need somehwere to lay low for a few days. I’ll find an apartment. I did something bad and not I’m in some shit that I can’t really explain right now..” You said as your pleas began to fade. You so badly wnated to fill your sister in all of the stuff that happened in the time that you were gone but right now you had no idea what to do and you didn’t want to put her or her newborn in jeopardy.

“Aren’t you some cop or something. Do that stuff that you guys do and you’ll be fine.” She said, completely dismissing you.

“It’s not that simple. I know you don’t really like me right now but just, please, can I stay here? I won't be in your way. I just need a little bit of time to figure this shit out.” You teared up as your voice broke. You hated the unknown and you were really scared of the shit you were caught up in and you didn’t know if you were going to make it out alive.

Your sister took a deep breath. You could see her internal dialogue spread across her face as she tried to decipher whether she’ll let you in or not. After a hot second, she shook her head of her thoughts and looked at your distraught state.

“Yeah. Sure. But I swear if you bring this shit to my home-.” You cut her off.

“I’m not. Thank you.” You got up and hugged her. “Now..” you smirked at her. “Can I meet my nephew?”

She laughed at your question. “Yes you can.” You followered into his room and never seen or experienced anything so heartwarming. The way his little beady eyes gleamed at you and the way his tiny little hand wrapped around your finger just melted your heart completely. She then showed the extra room she had, where you’ll be staying you thanked her again, bringing her into a teary eyed hug.

~

You woke up at noon with a sweat. The events that led you to your current state plagued your mind and your dreams as you slept and only left you a wet mess, breathing heavily in anxiety. You threw the covers off of your sticky body and trekked youself towards the bathroom and noticed your sister set you up with a fresh set of clothes throughout the night. Silently thanking her, you made a mental note to get a job and save up enough money to get you a whole new wardrobe, seeing as you literally had to get up and go and you were going to be in Freeridge for a while. Once you finished showering, you threw on the fresh set of clothes. In the middle of doing your hair, your stomach made the iconic sound that everybody loves and knows to be a whale call, indicating that you have eaten in the last 36 hours. Between spending money for transportion and paying for food at any diner that was closest to you, you were flat out broke. You began to walk down the spiral staircase, taking note of the white marble and planning to put it in your “future house items’ list. Only hearing the sound of your footsteps as you drew closer to the fridge, it was only right that you assumed you were the only person awake right now, not knowing that your sister’s husband had to get up this early too. Only difference was… he had a job. Rummaging through the fridge with a piece of toast after what seemed like two minutes, at least to you, you were startled by a deep voice.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” He said. You moved your eyes quckly side to side, trying to conjure up a response good enough to not make you look stupid.

“Uh, who are you?” You said, straightening up from being bent over in half, with a gallon of orange juice in your hand.

“I...” he said as he took a few steps closer, “...am Melissa’s husband. Now again who-”. He got cut off by the deadpan tone of your sister’s voice.

“Sean, who are you trying to intimidate now- oh.” Your sister’s words get cut off as her eyes land upon the situation she was absolutely dreading between her sister and her husband. She thought she would be able to put it off and hide her sister long enough to come up with a reasonable explanation to explain to her husband as to why there’s an extra person in this house.

“Yeah. Oh. Who is this?”

“This is my sister.” She said, taking long strides to stand next to you.

“Sister? You never told me you had a sister.” You stood there very awkwardly looking between your sister and her husband. Melissa started fiddling with her fingers and you saw the gears start rotating in her brain. So, calling onto your sisterly duties, you decided to relieve your sister of the stress and explain the long story yourself. After a lengthy 5 minutes, a dark grey cloud of silence loomed over everyone. For a second, you saw a look of pure rage engross her husband’s face but maybe it was your paranoia. Your sister and her husband looked at you, eyes wide in disbelief but you didn’t stay long as you turned and and made your way out of the door. You needed some fresh air anyways. Your legs took you farther and farther away from the house as you made your way towards somewhere that wasn’t the cringey feeling that encapsulated your sister’s home.

Great apprehension crept up in your body as you grew closer and closer to a home you’d never thought you’d see again. The memories you made with the Diaz residence when you were younger flooded your mind. The sexual thoughts you held sacred in your mind about Oscar had gotten interrupted by Oscar’s tall frame standing in front of you. During the time that you were friends, you developed a bit of a crush that only you knew of. It was imperative that you, in the name of the wellbeing of your family, would never get romantically involved with Oscar. With him being this infamous gang leader, it would just end very badly for every loved one in your life. As much as you saw through his machismo exterior and saw him as the loyal, caring, protective man, all of that had to be thrown out of the window as you stood in the present.

“What are you doing back over here?” He nodded. Not being the shy, little high schooler you once were, you sized him up, matching his intimidation. But don’t get yourself wrong, the rapid beating of your heart and the throbbing in your core was almost enough to have you start seeing wedding bells.

“You know, I REALLY don’t think that is any of your business. Bold of you to question me, isn’t it? Got a problem?” Your cop instincts kicked in as you and Oscar stood with your eyes locked with each other. His eyes faltered for a bit in defeat then darkened with what you assumed to be lust. It was then that he didn’t respond but let off but a smirk, small enough for you to see, as he walked away. Shaking your head of your thoughts, you noticed Cesar and the rest of the Santos burning holes in the side of your head. Offering a quick smile and a wave to Cesar, your face dropped as you mindlessly wandered, again, around the streets of Freeridge.

~

Day turned into night as you made your way back “home”. As you opened the door, the scene that laid out in front of you. There were broken items everywhere. The table, the vase that sat on top of the island in the kitchen, basically anything that can be within arms reach. Then, your eyes jolted to your sobbing sister on the floor, surrounded with the shambles of the house that once was.

“Melissa. What the hell?”

Her head shot up in shock and the mascara-laced tears that so deplorably ran down her face left you in utter shock. You immediately ran to kneel beside her and took the bottle from her hands. You proceeded to ask her what happened during the time that you got some air. As she told you what transpired, everything in the room started to turn red. Anger quickly simmered inside you like some meat in a pressure cooker as the maroon-colored richness that only resembled blood made it’s way into your pupils. Never in a million years would you have believed that life would put you in a situation where your sister is in some deep shit and you would be there by her side. But this was the card that you were dealt. You didn’t have much info on what was going on but you definitely knew you and your sister had to get out ASAP. Something told you that something, or someone rather, is bad. Thoughts on the many ways you were going to kill your sister's husband flooded your mind as you helped your sister up. You told her to wait outside for you while you went to go get her baby to make sure he was safe.

"Yes, baby, it's okay. Shh." You cooed. Your nephew was starting to awake from his sleep and you knew it was a matter of time before he would begin to cry. You grabbed as much stuff as you could--the essentials--and made your way to join your sister outside. The cool night air hit y’all as you came to a dreadful realization.

"Shit."

"What?" Your sister asked.

“We have nowhere to go.” You replied, swaddling the baby on your chest. You racked your brain trying to figure out who the hell in Freeridge was going to accept two random adults and a baby at this time of night. You couldn’t exactly go to certain parts of town because of the Prophets and 19th street. They would chew you up and spit you guys out, just loving the fact that you guys are in a vulnerable position. Your options were limited but they all pointed to the safest one. Oscar.

“Fuck.” You groaned.

“What?”

“We gotta go to Oscar’s.”

“Oscar. No. We are absolutely not going to that bastard’s house.” You sister said as she crossed her arms in retaliation.

“Well do you have a better idea. Because quite frankly, we don’t have anywhere to go and Oscar is our safest option right now. We also have to get a move on before Mr. Incredible Hulk comes back.”

“Fine. Alright. Let’s go.” Your sister huffed. When you arrived at Oscar's place, you knocked on the door until you couldn’t anymore.

“Yo are you crazy?” Oscar said as he threw open the door in frustration. But I mean, could you blame him? You and your sister showed up at an ungodly hour with a fussy baby in your arms and let’s not even get started with the way he was dressed which honestly made you feel some type of way. The way his tank top sat on his body and the shorts sat oh so perfectly on his hips sent a blissful sensation to parts down below.

“We need somewhere to stay for the night.” Your sister spoke.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Oscar can you not be a dick for 2 seconds and let us in.” Melissa said, obviously irritated.

“Melissa,” you started. “Oscar can we just spend the night, please. There’s a lot that has to be explained but there’s nowhere else in town for us to stay. Please.” You were pleading with Oscar at this point.

“What’s in it for me?” He smirked at the suggestive tone of his voice.

“Oscar, now is not the time. Are you going to let us in or not?” The longer you stood there, you yourself also began to grow frustrated.

It took him a minute to make a decision as he went silent. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching or lurking in the shadows and mumbled a silent “come in.”

You set foot in the house and all of the air left your lungs. Memories of you and Oscar began to drown your thoughts, again. The laughs. The movie sessions. The food. The study sessions that led to him giving up because he was lazy. Everything. You put your nephew down in Cesar’s room to go back to sleep and made sure your sister was okay before making your way back out into the living room. Oscar sat there with a mug, casually sipping whatever liquid was in it. You let out a large breath of relief as you finally got to sit down and relax after the day you’ve had.

“Long day?” His deep voice grumbled.

“Major understatement.”

Soon after, you felt a presence beside you and a dip in the sofa letting you know that Oscar is now sitting on the couch with you. With the interaction you encountered today with your sister’s husband, a little inkling told you something was up. Although you had just met him, you would have never began to think that he would manhandle your sister like she’s same ragdoll and honestly, the reality that it became had the anger inside you boil over. On the other hand, reality also hit that you didn’t have your job or your badge had been confiscated so there’s really nothing much you two can do but run and never look back. In deep thought about your next steps, you feel a hand on your shoulders and it starts to rub the day’s tension away.

“You’re tense.” His deep voice boomed.

“Yeah, well can you blame me?”

“What’s wrong?”

The room becomes quiet as you try and decide whether you want to tell Oscar everything that has happened in the past 15 years.

“Everything I know is gone…” You whispered.

“What?” Oscar replies.

“I thought escaping from Freeridge and trying to create a whole new life was gonna fucking help but it’s obviously not.” You said, beginning to tear up.

“What are you talking about?”

“Goddamnit, Oscar there’s people coming, “you said with a warning tone. “I fucked up. I did some shit that I can’t take back and now-“

“Hey hey shh.” Oscar soothed. He took you in his arms and tried to calm you down as you cried your eyes out. The weight of trying to protect your sister, her child, yourself and everyone around over a senseless decision you made on the other side of the country, was coming down on to you entirely, bearing no mercy. Now the question is, what are you going to do from now on to ensure the safety of you and the people around you?

[megastarstriker]

✯𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒴𝑜𝓊✯

✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚　 ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

NIKKI SIXX  X  READER

˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮       ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

Requested:

Contains: FLUFF 

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx  x Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx​, @littlemisscare-all​,

💕MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED TOO💕

Keys:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(D/N) - Daughter’s Name

============================

“Dada.....”, The little 3 year old baby girl that I held in my arms babbled as she looked at her father over my shoulder with her cute curious eyes who was already walking towards me with a small smile on his face, looking at the small child as he looked at her excited (E/C) eyes with his warm hazel ones. 

“I’m here, sweetie....”, He murmured softly as he kissed the girl sweetly on the forehead making her giggle and coo happily at her father,” Good morning.”

“Good morning,...Nik...”, I said as I leaned into Nikki’s touch as he wrapped his arm with security and warmth around me and the little bundle of joy that was right next to us.

“Morning, beautiful.....”, He whispered in my ear kissing my forehead and then my cheek, only then to plant his warm and slightly chapped lips unto mine. The kiss was short but despite that it had a burning taste of passion in it that I couldn’t describe but either way... I loved it. 

The embrace was then interrupted by a small barking sound from the floor, as I felt a tug on my nightgown. I then departed my eyes from Nikki to see two small set of brown eyes looking at me energetically as the small pup wagged its tail with joy as he looked at the baby with wonderment. 

“And you too, bud....”, He said with a laugh as he picked up the dog from the ground, making the dog yap at him and his tail wag with speed. I giggled at how cute the two of them were as I then looked at (D/N) tiny form as she leaned gently into my shoulder giggling at the pup that was in Nikki’s hands. 

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

‘Buddy was new to the family once (D/N) was born. It wasn’t just an early Christmas present but it was also something that Nikki and I talked about when she was born. I thought about what it would be like if we did have a pet and if it would be nice that our daughter got to play with it. Nikki of course agreed same going for me as we both had our fair share of love for animals especially dogs. And he couldn’t say not to his newborn daughter too. We wanted to buy and get a pup especially for her, but I then heard about an option for adopting one from one of my closest friends. I overhead from her that these pups were homeless or abandoned and needed homes, as well as it would be an amazing idea to have one. It wouldn’t just be a good decision but rather an amazing way to spread awareness about these animals who need love and attention. Thinking about that made me think of Nikki and his past. It always left me thinking that Nikki deserved better. A better family to have raised him, a better childhood, and a better life. Nikki of course was happy now and would always remind me that I was always there for him and that things have changed now because of me and the people that supported him aka the crue as well as other people and to not worry about the things that happened to him in the past, because he already has his two most greatest things: His Band and His Family. But those exact same thoughts made me wonder. 

“Those animals deserve the exact same thing.

Love, attention, and a Family.”

Not Hatred, Loneliness, and Abandonment.

Just Like Nikki needed it and has it now.

As I rethought the decision in my mind, I smiled as I then went and talked it over with Nikki about adopting a pet. He of course was shocked to see me talk about my reasons for it especially since he was mainly the reason for it. Of course after finishing he gave me a strong embrace and a kiss, and accepted on a adoption for a pet. Afterwards, He told me that I had such a heart of gold and teased me about it for the rest of the day......

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

‘Ughh’, I thought in my head as I groaned at Nikki’s teasing remarks that day, as I saw him play with ‘Buddy’, as well as (D/N) joining him in the floor of the living room. ‘What a dork.’ I smiled with a blush as I looked at them as I went to the kitchen to start on breakfast, as a few moments later my two devilish angels a.k.a Nikki and (D/N) decided on wanting to join in and help me with it.  

  But at least he’s my dork.

8 hours later

“Mommy.”, (D/N) asked me as she tugged on my party dress I picked out for the dinner party  looking at me with cute baby doll eyes.

“Yes sweetie”, I said softly as I picked her up gently looking at her as I awaited for her response.

“When are my aunties and uncles going to come.”, She said her eyes a bit sad as she looked down, as she already had her clothes ready for the Christmas dinner party we were holding at our place. 

“Oh, honey...”, I started to say my heart breaking at her expression she gave me, “Your aunts and uncles will come....Even some of the kids too so you can all play....There are just running a bit late....But don’t worry....Okay.”

“Really?”, She said as she had hopeful eyes gleaming, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, princess.”, Nikki said as he appeared next to me, wearing his formal wear, looking as handsome as always, taking (D/N) in his arms and hugged her, “Everything will be ok.”

Then as soon as he said that a door ringing was hear from the front door.

“Speaking of the devil.”, I muttered jokingly to Nikki as he chuckled rolling his eyes a bit playfully as he patted my shoulder as he gently put (D/N) on the floor next to Buddy who was now wagging his tail in excitement. 

“I’ll get it.”, He told me as he went over to the door opening to reveal...

You guessed it.

The breathing, living, and rocking crue....

Standing at our door...

My Parents , my friends along with their husbands and daughters , and.....

My brother!

Looking at him standing there I was shocked.

“Surprise!”, He said as he had his arms out ready to hug me and a huge smile on his face.

“(B/N)!”, I said with wide eyes open as I hugged him tightly a happy smile reaching its way on my face, deep down believing this was all a dream. 

“ In the flesh.”, He said with a chuckle as he broke free from the heartwarming embrace. 

“But- How.....”, I asked him still amazed at him standing here in front of me, “I thought you couldn’t come because of your job.”

“Well..., let’s just say a little someone gave me a nice talk through the phone and told me to come here and meet you as a surprise.”, He said as he looked at me trailing off a bit.

“When I mean a ‘little someone’ I mean Nikki.”, He then said as he gestured towards him who was busy welcoming Tommy, Vince, and Mick, “And when I mean a nice talk, I mean he was going to beat and murder my ass if I didn’t come here.”

“Oh no....”, I said as I felt a bit guilty thinking that he came here because of Nikki’s threat., “Didn’t Nikki really force you to come here-”

“No no no, He didn’t....”, He said as he understood what I was trying to say, “I mean a bit but, no. Don’t blame him for anything though, I only came here because of you and about what Nikki said when he called me up.”

“What did he say?”, I asked him as I quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, He told me about how much you missed having me visit for the holidays and well that he wanted to change that by bringing me here....”, He started to say as he stood in front of me, “.......And then he told me about how you were incredibly special to him and lovey dovey stuff as he liked to put it.”

I gasped hearing this..

Did Nikki really just..?...

“But that’s all I can say for now......”, He finished as he then gave a smile, “Other than that I am happy to see you and mom and dad again here together. I know I haven’t been the best bro for not coming for the holidays, but I guess I feel happy now that  I’m here. Huh? Now that I’m thinking about it, I feel like with Nikki being around with you its a miracle for him.... He really cares about you, I can tell......”

Still a bit taken aback by all of this information, I saw as I small girl and a woman came walking beside my brother.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t came here alone of course.”, He said as she then said a small ‘hello’, sending me a welcoming smile holding her daughter in her arms.

“I guess I already told you about them in a few occasions over the phone, but this is my wife Donna, and this little munchkin over here is my daughter Annie.”, He introduced as they both said hi, Donna shaking my hand as she said it was nice to meet me, her daughter giving me a shy wave as to say hello to me.

“Its Nice to meet you too,” I said with a warm welcome as I told them to go ahead and make themselves comfortable at home. 

I then said hello to my parents and my friends who brought over their husbands and daughters...

And of course couldn’t forget about the jolly ol’ crue....

“Hey Tommy, Vince!”, I greeted as I then walked over to them both as they enveloped me in a warm friendly hug.

They both said hello to me before releasing me from the hug, I was about to greet Mick only to find he wasn’t there. 

“Where’s Mick?”, I asked as I tried looking for him around where I stood.

“Mick is with Nikki in the kitchen talking about something... code word ‘ private’....”, Tommy said as he held out the quotation marks in the air whispering the word to me. 

“And He doesn’t want us in on listening to their small chat, thinking we are gonna gossip about it to the fellas around here......so yeah here we are.... trying but also not trying to ‘eavesdrop’ on them.....”, Vince continued as he rolled his eyes a bit. 

I giggled at them both as I shook my head, “Well good luck with that. ”

After a couple of minutes of introduction with everyone including Mick who came out with Nikki after their so called ‘private conversation’ , we all went to the dining room, Me and Nikki being the last ones as he looked to me.

“So your brother came.”, Nikki commented as he stood beside me. 

“Yeah, I noticed.” I said as I tried to play along with his game although already knowing it was his idea all along for him to come here,” I’m really happy he came.”

“Um, I sort of called him to come here. I know how much he means to you as family.”, Nikki said nervously as he looked at me coughing a bit.

Damn it why did he have to be so cute!

“So yeah....”, He said with a chuckle ,” I’m gonna go and head over-”

I cut off his sentence with a warm kiss as I gripped his coat.

He was shocked but slowly kissed me back.

I then pulled away with a sigh.

“I know you called him over and why. He told me everything”, I said with a smile as I noticed him look a bit surprised to hear me say this.

“What you did was really sweet and the best gift I could have from you, I love you.”, I said as I hugged him tightly, not wanting to ever let go from him.

Before long he hugged me back, saying those same words.

“I love you too, Merry Christmas baby.....”

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

{AUTHORS NOTE}:

Hey Guys and Merry Christmas to everyone who is reading this or not!!!!

Hope you guys have an amazing holiday whether it is with your family or friends or whoever you celebrate and however you do it!!

🖤I HOPE ANYONE THAT’S READING LIKED IT AS WEll AND LOVE YOU.🖤

IF ANY ONE WANTS TO ASK ME FOR SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH THE MEMBERS OF  MOTLEY CRUE OR THE DIRT VERSION OF IT.  HERE’S THE LIST FOR ANYONE THAT WANTS TO REQUEST SOMETHING FROM ME.

{ REQUEST LIST }

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[foreficfandom]

The Arcana  - A Day In The Life (Dating MC, Post-Upright Ending)

(Note: as of this writing, Muriel, Portia, and Lucio’s route have not been finished, so their scenarios are based on their default/mid-game way of living).  

-- Asra --

In the morning light, Asra wakes to your gentle shuffling and turns to cuddle you with a sleepy sigh. You smile and leave to start on chores, since you know Asra’s not gonna get out of bed until he absolutely has too. 

The shop doesn’t open until noon, so you take your time in coaxing the stove salamander to fry eggs in tomato sauce and lentils for breakfast. Asra doesn’t shuffle downstairs until he smells tea. 

After breakfast, you ask Asra to clean up while you leave to pick up the wash from the laundress. He teasingly demands you don’t spend all your allowance at the market buying every knick-knack you see, and you stick your tongue out in response. 

By the time you return, Asra’s prepared the storefront for business, and lit the lantern by the door. You go upstairs to sort the laundry while the first customers of the day arrive.

The day passes as you and Asra man the shop - Asra does the Tarot readings, serenely leading troubled patrons to the back room to ask the Arcana about the future, or love opportunities, or business and fortune. You manage the merchandise, ringing up gentry that get bottles of wrinkle-erasing skin cream, parents who buy protective charms for their children, and crafting custom blessings onto scrolls and pendents. 

After the sun sets, a different crowd of customers come in; rough-looking mercenaries who want sigils to enhance their swords, hooded strangers with cryptic questions for the Arcana, and also other magical-practioneers looking for rare artifacts, offering esoteric trinkets in exchange.

You make a stew dinner as business continues well into the night. Asra pauses to eat with you, getting up to tend to a customer if he hears the bell ring. The moon is high in the sky when he douses the lantern and you clean up the shop. 

It’s his turn to do the books while you relax, so you graciously heat up water in a large wooden tub for a soak while Asra documents the inventory and earnings of the day. He interrupts your bath to help wash your hair, and he says that the shop is running low on fresh yarrow, so you promise to pick some up tomorrow morning.

You join Asra on the bed, Faust draped across his belly, and he pulls the quilts over all three of you. He always gets chatty before falling asleep, so he talks about the next trip he’s been planning, and how he can’t wait to take you with him. 

With one last kiss, you and Asra sleep peacefully in each other’s arms, Faust crawled in-between the valley of your bodies.

-- Julian --

It’s unfortunately uncommon to wake up next to Julian. His clinic opens at dawn, and he spends more than enough all-nighters on top of that. It’s a rare day that you wake before him. Usually, the bed next to you is a mess of rumpled sheets that spoke of a tall, gangly man. 

You manage the magical shop, and Julian’s clinic is right next door. The clinic has an open-door policy; official hours are from sunrise to sundown, but Julian needs to be ready to leap from bed if he hears knocking at the door. So he never leaves the clinic unmanned at any time, with at least an assistant available if he’s gone. 

So you spend time at Julian’s place rather than the inverse. Julian’s nook is on the third floor of the building, large but a little drafty, and cluttered with Julian’s notes and books. He makes an effort keeping clean for your benefit, but the poor man just lacks the time to organize everything. 

You go downstairs to see Julian already hours into work, and it’s unknown what the daily damage could be; sometimes, he’s not occupied by a patient and gets to smother you in morning kisses. Other times, he’s busy treating a miner for their black lung, or happily checking up on a newborn baby, or his assistants tell you that Julian’s locked up in the surgery room right now, cauterizing wounds or applying splints. 

Today’s a day off for the magical shop, so you go to Julian’s medicine storage and help with grinding the cinnamon and boiling down the elderberry. His assistant and you also clean some of his surgical tools. 

Julian finally emerges from a successful surgery, and his tired face brightens up when he sees you. He washes up so he gets to give you a tight hug, and his assistant brings over two mugs of coffee - Julian’s almost twice the size as yours. 

He leaves off his paperwork for later in lieu of chatting with you about everything and anything, until his next patient walks through the door. You leave to go next door to cook dinner, since Julian’s upstairs nook has a heater, but no burners. 

You bring over a plate of beef dumplings with cabbage - a recipe you learned from Mazelinka - and luckily Julian’s finished up so he can join you upstairs for a peaceful meal. You have to clear some papers off his tiny table, and he sheepishly promises that tomorrow he’ll clean a bit more. You offer to do it for him, but he insists that he organize his own documents. 

The clinic closes and Julian accepts a cup of tea from you as he pours over his paperwork, and he suggests a near-future venture to Prakra to attend a seminar on spinal surgery. It’d double as an adventure! He says, and you give him a kiss for his enthusiasm.

He’s gotten better at maintaining a sleep schedule, but you still have to urge him to bed so he can fall dead asleep on the sheets. Before he passes out, he takes several long minutes to cuddle you close and play with your hair. Malak finally flies in through the window from whatever adventure he’s been having, and nests peacefully on the pillow above your heads.

-- Nadia --

The Vensuvian sun wakes the two of you gently. Nadia kisses your forehead before getting up to do her morning stretches. You might join her, or instead head over to the boudoir where the hand-maidens help you dress and accessorize. Palace etiquette demands some pomp and circumstance when it comes to appearances, plus Nadia’s been gifting you riches for a while now, filling up your closet.

Breakfast is bright and cheery, with Nadia insisting on a nutrient-rich and fiber-based diet to start the day off right. She shares the daily agenda with you, along with easy chatter and loving coos. The mail’s delivered on a platter; you open a letter from Julian overseas that’s addressed to you both, sharing the details of his latest adventure.

There’s some free time, so you and Nadia leave the palace to tour the town square and the affluent stores there. She sees a gorgeous pair of slippers and asks if you’d like them. You point out a large caged raptor and she orders her servants to purchase it for rehabilitation in Navra’s wildlife reserve.

Come midday, the two of you file into one of the galleries for a meeting with the counsel. It’s a meeting to draft a reform of the city’s infrastructure department, which involves tax rates and effective procurement and other boring decisions. 

You’ve not been crowned yet, so you don’t have any official say on court matters, but more often you’ve been stepping in. Many are pleasantly surprised at your management sense, and Nadia has a small, prideful smirk whenever you play your cards. 

You and Nadia part ways for a bit, she’s off to do some more mundane Countess duties involving signing paperwork, you decide to take Chandra on a walk through the gardens, chatting with the staff and feeding the pond fish. Chandra was glad to hitch a ride on your shoulders. You share some mulberries with her. 

Today, Nadia’s duties force her to skip dinner, so you instead eat with other palace dignitaries you’ve made friends with, along with Portia who gracefully takes a few minutes to catch up with you. The cook had made a new recipe of spicy grilled squid today, and you find it delicious.

Nadia has a late meal in her chambers, and you join her for a chocolate mousse dessert. Come bedtime, you brush her long hair, which always helps her unwind. She returns the favor with soft embraces curled up in bed.

-- Portia -- 

Portia wakes up at dawn to cook breakfast for you both, happily encouraging you to sleep in so you can wake up to the delicious smells of melted cheese on toast and strong black tea. You have to wake up quickly if you want to catch her before she leaves for work, so you’re bleary-eyed and sleepy at the table while Portia’s as peppy as ever.

Portia’s job as hand-maiden takes up most of her day. She quickly bustles off to the castle, and you trot to run the magical shop alongside Asra. He teasingly suggests you’d much rather be with Portia right now, and you blush. 

Portia wakes up Nadia with breakfast, and helps her dress. From there, it’s a busy day bustling back and forth the massive halls of the castle. As head servant, she’s on top of all the castle duties, including inventory and scheduling. She relays messages between the chamberlain, the cooks, the laundrymaids, chambermaids, footsmen, butlers, scullerymaids, groundsmen and gardeners, and also is in charge of handling deliveries and purchases.

Today’s a slow day at the shop, so Asra lets you off with a box of candied pineapple to share with Portia during her afternoon break. You now know Portia’s kinda-sorta-established schedule by now, so you eventually track her down in the buttery, hanging out with the other servants with a cup of tea. Her eyes light up when she sees you and she nearly topples you over with her strong embrace. 

You share the pineapple with her and the servants, whom you now know by name. They offer some delicious gossip about some visiting dignitaries. Portia sneaks some palace tarts and feeds them to you by hand, giggling.

Portia’s work day ends at 5pm, and she heads straight to the magical shop for some tutoring. A long day’s work can only be capped off with you and Asra coaching her through the basics of magical theory. She’s so enamored by magic and loves to practice it. You can tell that she has amazing potential. Before the lesson ends, you cook them all pasta with tomatoes for dinner, and Asra gets to have a palace tart you sneaked home. 

It’s after sundown when the two of you make it home to Portia’s cottage. A hard day’s work over and done with, it’s now just you and Portia (and Pepi, who begs for ear scritches the moment you two walk in the door), relaxing in the warm summer evening. You cradle Portia in your arms, watching fireflies dance over her garden. 

-- Muriel --

Muriel’s up before the sun, stoking the embers of the fire back to life before gathering his willowwood fishing rod and heading out with Inanna. He has a habit of leaving without tell you where he’s going, so you wake in surprise to a missing Muriel. But before long he returns with several pike strung together, and he salts a few of them while you boil oat porridge with dried currants for breakfast. 

Life in the forest is peaceful, but busy. Muriel has lots of morning chores to get to, and he doesn’t need your help but appreciates it. After breakfast he goes to his backyard garden to weed, while you sweep the hut.

Muriel tells you the agenda for today; go to the wild grape fields, then to harvest and bring in the late-summer corn, then he’s gonna work some more on that new table he’s been carving while you finish spinning the wild sheep wool you shaved yesterday. 

Over the months, he’s gotten better at communicating with you. He’s still his silent, shy self, but now he’ll hold his own in a conversation without feeling overwhelmed. The two of you share few but sweet words as you travel to the grape patch and pluck the small grapes for their large seeds to grind and press into oil.

Muriel’s garden is sprawling and well-maintained. The many corn he’s raised have produced three giant bushels worth, and he divvies them up between those to pickle, or to dry, or grind into meal, or to eat fresh. The husks and cobs aren’t wasted either, kept to use as cooking utensils or animal feed. That single harvest will keep for the year. 

It’s mid-afternoon when Muriel continues cutting and shaping oak wood for a new dining table, larger and sturdier for the both of you. Inanna keeps you company as you separate and spin wool into spools. 

You decide to head into town before the sun sets, so you give Muriel a kiss and trek to the shop to say hi to Asra and Julian, and ask after Portia and Nadia. Asra promises to visit soon, and Julian gives you a wrapped cloth of scones Portia made. Before you head back, you tour the evening market for iron nails, cones of sugar, and other things you and Muriel can’t produce yourselves.

It’s dark by the time you return home, but the full moon and fireflies keep the path lit and you hug Inanna when she trots out to greet you. Muriel has roasted two quails with beans and cider, and the two of you eat peacefully on the new oak table. 

Before he joins you in bed, Muriel quickly takes out the beef tallow soap he’s made from their molds to dry. You open your arms sleepily when you see him approach, and he smiles because he’s way too big for you to engulf, no matter how many times you ask for it. The two of you fall asleep to crickets chirping and the crackling of fire.

-- Lucio -- 

What’s the point of being Count if he can’t have lazy mornings? If you don’t want to stay in until 10am, then he’ll eventually start getting up earlier, too. If the two of you haven’t been wrapped around each other all night, you might have to do a couple body rolls to get across his huge four-poster canopy bed in order to give him some morning smooches. 

He’ll make a couple of dad noises as he struggles to wake up (he’s not getting any younger, despite his best efforts), and it takes a while before he’s able to throw off the thick silk duvet to meander to the washbasin.

By the time he’s cleaned his face and shaved, he’s much more peppy and chats with you while applying his makeup. His servants help dress the both of you, snapping on his prosthetic and lacing up his waistcoat. The two of you won’t have any engagements until evening, so breakfast is taken right in his solar - angels on horseback, perfumed eggs, fresh fruit, along with pots of coffee, tea, and juice. 

Throughout his career as Count, Lucio’s done a pretty good job making sure he’s got a ton of people doing the tasks he can’t bother himself to mind. Shady political practices, but it leaves plenty of time for leisure. His idea of ‘work’ is exercising in the grounds, polishing up his swordwork and making sure he’s still fighting fit. Watching Lucio spar, you can’t deny he’s talented. By the end, he’s sweating but invigorated. 

Dinner is an official affair, meeting with a visiting dignitary from Zadith and his husbands. The feast is meant to impress, the huge table piled high with roasts and rare wines. There’s no deals to broker or anything, this is just the life of royals, visiting each other to pay respects and maintain relationships. Lucio takes one of the husbands by arm and leads them through the castle on a tour, charismatic as always. 

Evening comes. You and Lucio bathe in his huge pool, drinking wine and eating desserts. He spends half an hour applying his various skin creams, and he gently combs a fragrant oil through your hair. Mercedes and Melchior follow the two of you to his bedroom, and you settle on his couches, one dog to each for pets and snuggles. 

After a midnight snack of wine and cheese, Lucio calls you back under the covers so he can bid you lay on his chest for a while, which he loves. The fireplace burns low, casting warm red all around his massive bedroom.

[gukyi]

for you, anything | ksj

summary: in the popular online multiplayer game, kingdom, you are the top-ranked knight with money, fame, and power. in real life, you’re a graphic design geek who’s got a very unsubtle crush on her gorgeous coworker, kim seokjin. but when you’re suddenly dethroned from the first place spot in your game, you and your kingdom character embark on a journey to reclaim your title, and learn on the way that things are not always as they seem. 

{friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, fantasy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol mention, brief and non-graphic descriptions of violence, this is basically two fics in one so you get double the fun and double the word count!! a/n: once again, a massive, massive thank you to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me!! you can find her on twitter as well under @btspresso_!! she’s the genius behind this enemies to lovers and friends to lovers seokjin fic wrapped up into a nice package just in time for the holidays!! you ever seen a fic with e2l and f2l together? that’s right, i didn’t think so. enjoy!!!

check out the post-script drabble here!

♚ HERE ♚

“Oh, shit!”

From twelve feet away comes the sound of these three things in this order: fingers furiously mashing keyboard keys, wheels of an office chair swiveling angrily on the linoleum floor, and a war cry. All of which could either belong to a video game world championships in a big-city stadium or your simple, office of two-floors in a more-than-one-hundred-stories skyscraper based in graphic design and media for small start-up companies. 

“I can’t tell if Photoshop crashed again or if you’re playing that weird online multiplayer game again,” Yoongi grumbles from across the way, where he’s gnawing on a Clif bar in one hand as he mindlessly taps his mouse with the other. 

“Please,” Jimin says, carelessly waving a hand. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you watching My Hero Academia multiple times this year while we were supposed to be doing work, you absolute piece of toast. But if you must know, I was in fact playing Kingdom.”

“I’m going to tell Namjoon,” Yoongi says with zero emphasis, because everybody knows that Namjoon’s got dirt on everybody in the office anyway (including Yoongi) and that if you try to expose somebody else to him, he’ll expose you back. It’s colleague culture. 

“And what’s Namjoon gonna do? He already knows you carry a flash drive of illegally-downloaded animes with you wherever you go,” Jimin retorts casually. He’s not wrong, and you can confirm that Yoongi indeed carts around a USB drive in the shape of a pineapple that has 64GB of anime. 

“What do I know?”

Namjoon comes trotting into view from the corridor that leads to the gender-neutral bathrooms with glasses hanging from the collar of his sweater vest, a clipboard with nothing attached to it in his right hand, and a steaming cup of jasmine tea (he hates coffee and declares this publicly at least three times a day) in his left. 

“You know that Yoongi—”

“Has been doing his work the whole time you were in the bathroom so you don’t need to worry about him,” Yoongi interrupts quickly. 

Namjoon shoots both Jimin and Yoongi a suspicious glare, but moves on. He’s got enough blackmail on the both of them to bury them into the next calendar year, but he’s wise, and he only uses it when absolutely necessary. “Just doing checkups on you guys before Boss Man calls me back into his office and gives me a pile of over one hundred hours of work I’m supposed to do in a forty-hour work week.” It’s been obvious from the moment you were hired that Namjoon does the most work out of anybody in this office, including your boss, and gets very, very little from it. 

“You don’t even have any paper attached to your clipboard,” Taehyung points out rather unhelpfully, from where he’s been drawing hearts on the cheeks of the Surprised Pikachu meme he’s taped up on the wall his desk is pushed up against. 

Namjoon looks down at his clipboard like it just spit mad fire at him, furrows his brows, and lets out a sigh equivalent to three years worth of pent-up aggression. “Shit.”

Jimin cackles from his computer. 

“Whatever, I’m still going to do checkups.” Namjoon takes the pen from behind his ear and writes himself a note, presumably to get paper for his clipboard later. “Jimin, you’re still working on that website layout for the art critic and photographer. Yoongi’s on coding for that search engine that we all know is never taking off but is still paying us. Taehyung’s on marketing because he’s got the most charming voice and Hoseok and Jungkook are on media production for the indie movie company. Y/N and Seokjin, you guys are on clientele and coding. Everybody good before I go get more paper?”

“Yes, Tiny but Large Boss Man,” Jimin says, and it’s enough of a confirmation to send Namjoon scurrying down the corridor again in search of paper as everyone else returns to their prior business. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around from the font website you’ve been browsing for about half an hour to find Seokjin standing behind you, an earpiece in his ear and that charming smile on his face. It’s the same smile he gave you on your first day on the job when he was introducing himself, same smile he gives when he meets clients in person, same smile he gives Namjoon whenever the man is about to have a breakdown. It’s a friendly, personable-but-universal kind of smile. The kind models need. The kind that Seokjin has mastered. 

“Hey, Seokjin,” you say, only just then coming to realize that Seokjin is much closer to you than his voice originally implied. You’ve rotated 180 degrees in your office chair and he is hardly a foot away from where your feet are. It’s a lot. Seokjin is always a lot. In the best sort of way. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, just wanted to check in and see how the project was going for that one guy that wanted a nice advertisement to put on Angie’s List,” Seokjin says, leaning down to look at what you’ve been doing. 

“Oh, well I’ve been browsing this font website for ages and I still can’t find a nice one for the sub-heading. All of these are too flashy or difficult to read,” you say, beginning to scroll as you and Seokjin both look for one that you like. 

“Hmm, I see what you mean,” his voice sounds like honey and if you had any less dignity you’d let the chills send shivers down your spine. Luckily, you know how to maintain your composure in an office setting. And you also know that Yoongi and Jungkook would never let you hear the end of it, ever. “Oh, how about that one?”

“This one? Rose Quartz?” You ask, pointing to it. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says. “It has a nice flair that matches with the font for the business name, but it’s still easy to read. It would probably look really nice with a crisp shadow behind it, don’t you think?”

“Maybe you’re onto something,” you say, clicking to read the fair use and copyright. 

“Couldn’t have done it without all the hard work you’ve put into this,” Seokjin says, standing up and shooting you another one of his famous smiles. “You’re the best partner anybody in this tiny media production and design company could ask for.”

He leaves without bidding you farewell, but it’s enough to have you staring blankly at your computer, contemplating existence itself. Sometimes, a little part of you wonders if Seokjin only treats you like this and none of your other coworkers, but then you immediately remember that Seokjin is naturally charming and that he probably speaks to newborn babies in the same way.

Yoongi wheels over to your desk from where his is, smirk lacing his features as he chews on another, different-colored Clif bar. 

“Ever heard of a personal bubble?” You ask snarkily, because you already know why he’s over here, and so does he.

“Why aren’t you asking the same question to Seokjin, hmm?” Yoongi taunts. He’s know about your dumb crush on your coworker (of all people, your coworker! A fellow employee!) for months now. He isn’t being any more helpful whatsoever. 

“Go watch your pirated anime,” you grunt out, too overwhelmed with the way Seokjin smiles at you to really give Yoongi your full attention. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Sure, but I’m not Seokjin,” Yoongi says. Then he wheels away and you’re left staring at the Rose Quartz font, whose sample text reads: This was meant to be. 

At least Namjoon doesn’t know.

It’s midnight on a Tuesday, and you’re just about to turn off the lamp on your bedside table and get some well deserved weekday-night shut eye when your phone begins to blare, a disgustingly ugly picture of Jungkook’s face appearing on the screen.

You stare at your phone like it’s personally offending you (which, if Jungkook’s face is anything to go by, it definitely is) before you turn off your ringer and close your eyes. Jungkook can wait. Very seldom is he at the top of your list of priorities.

Barely five seconds after you’ve put your head on your pillow, your phone begins to vibrate, this time even angrier than the last. Aggravated and a little concerned—because Jungkook never, ever calls twice—you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Something crazy just happened!”

“I hope so, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me at midnight on a work night,” you grumble into the phone, monotonous voice a stark contrast to Jungkook’s easily excitable one.

“Have you been on Kingdom recently?!” Jungkook asks, and you practically see his eyes bulging out of his head in front of you. One of your youngest coworkers, it’s moments like these that remind you why he bears a striking resemblance to a university student—up late playing video games even on a work night—despite having a couple years in the workforce under his belt. He keeps telling you that he wants to go back to school and get a Masters in something, but he isn’t sure what yet. 

“No,” you tell him like it’s obvious, because it is. You typically begin to wind down your night around ten, which means that anything that’s happened on Kingdom in the past two hours you are thoroughly unaware of. “Can’t this wait? Kingdom’s fun and all, but I really do need to sleep.”

“But Y/N,” Jungkook says with a whine, insisting that you stay on the line, “someone beat you! You’re rank two, now.”

If Jungkook’s loud voice and jumpy attitude didn’t wake you before, you’re certainly wide awake now.

“What?” You ask, shocked. “Just now?”

“Yeah, like fifteen minutes ago! I don’t know what happened,” Jungkook says sadly, lost. “I was dueling with another knight when the horns and banners appeared on the screen and said there was a new top player. You’ve been dethroned!” He cries out like it’s him who’s lost their place. 

You’re fumbling out of bed, making a beeline for your desktop computer across your bedroom. Normally, you’d be ashamed about how high-school you’re behaving around a video game, but you’ve invested an embarrassing amount of time and energy into Kingdom, and you’ll be damned if you think someone else can outdo you. 

As you’re logging onto the game, Jungkook continues to wail into the phone. “I don’t even know who this person is, I feel like I’ve never seen them before! I mean, they must be really good since they practically appeared out of nowhere, but still! I’m a decent player so we must have crossed paths. Maybe I just don’t remember…”

Sure enough, the moment you open your screen the horns blare and the banners appear, congratulating a different player on achieving the top rank. You watch helplessly as the celebration fades on your computer before the leaderboard appears in the top left corner, your name a sad second place. 

“Who’s JK0901?” You shout into the phone, earning an exasperated sigh from Jungkook on the other end. You scowl at the name that’s knocked you off your pedestal, before narrowing your eyes to look at it more closely. “JK? Is that you, Jungkook? Are you just calling me to make fun of me for beating me? Don’t disrespect your elders, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gasps like he’s been accused of murder. For people that take Kingdom as seriously as you and Jungkook, it may as well be. “No! What the heck, Y/N, you know that my username is KookieMonster97, for God’s sake. Accusing me of being the best, how could you?”

“You should have just taken the compliment,” you frown into the phone, “Now all the girls are gonna know you aren’t, in fact, the number one Kingdom player.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Jungkook mutters. “But it’s not me, I swear. You would have received a very different phone call from me if it was. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even told you and then ruined your day in the office tomorrow. So it’s not me.”

“I can’t tell if I’d be more or less angry if it was you,” you admit.

“Why, because I’d finally have something to hold over your head other than my unwavering youth?” Jungkook taunts. Definitely still a university student at heart. 

“No, because it means I’d have to hear the entire office praise you for a day, and I’d rather permanently pop my eardrums,” you tell him informatively. Jungkook has enough of a head. You actively try to not do anything to enlarge it unless he wholeheartedly deserves it. 

“I love our coworker chats, you know,” Jungkook says. “Whoever this person is though, I bet they’re receiving bucketloads of praise for knocking you off the top spot. You’ve had it for like, three months now, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this game and look how it’s repaying me,” you grumble, staring down the Kingdom home screen. 

“JK0901 probably did a ritual sacrifice to beat you,” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully. 

You sigh. Whoever they are, they proved that they are just as good at Kingdom as you are, a veteran player with an embarrassing several years of experience under your belt. In fact, they proved that they’re better than you. 

♚ THERE ♚

It’s cloudy today, which means that more of the market stalls are out on the main street. You pass by them on your way to the castle, vendors calling out to you with promises of apples, jewelry, and perfumes. 

You’ve got money to burn and your responsibilities can wait a couple of minutes, so you indulge one of the stalls and purchase a couple of apples. One should give you a bit of energy now, and the rest can be roasted later for a better meal. 

“Miss Y/N, off to the palace?” The vendor asks. From how much you frequent this part of the kingdom, every artisan, farmer, and merchant alike knows your name. That, and the fact that you’ve amassed quite a group of followers from your daily knightly escapades. 

“Of course,” you respond happily, paying the merchant with a couple of silver coins and then some, just as a thanks. The extra money helps the farmers raise the quality of their crops and allows them to earn more for their efforts. It also boosts your standing amongst the townsfolk. “His Majesty requested my presence for further instructions on fortification, most likely. But I’m just honored to be recognized.”

“As you should!” The man responds dutifully. “You are our best knight, after all.”

“Please, you flatter me. When the work day is done, go home and feed your children well, alright?” You ask, giving a firm nod to the merchant before you’re on your way. As you stroll down the stone-paved path, other vendors call out to you, hoping that you, too, will indulge in their finest clothes and trinkets on your way to the castle. 

Maybe another day. 

You take a hearty bite of the apple as you head towards the palace, a satisfying crunch ringing through your ears as the townsfolk nod and bow to you. It’s easy to figure out that you’re the top-ranked knight in the kingdom, with badges of honor pinned to your torso, ink black armor clinging tightly to your body, and red sashes tied around the black ones on your wrist, signifying approval from the highest ranking military official in the kingdom: the king himself. 

The guards at the palace gates step aside as you nod to each other, bowing courteously. You repeat this process several more times as you slowly proceed towards the throne room, where the King (and maybe the Queen) are likely to be waiting for you. They had increased their security at every door frame after an attempted assassination several months ago, which you (with the help of other high-ranking knights and castle officials) discovered was a plot orchestrated by Their Majesty’s second-most-trusted advisor. 

Finally, you reach the golden arches that signify that you’ve arrived at the most expensive room in the entire palace (save for Her Majesty’s bathroom, which, though you have never been inside, is rumored to have a golden bathtub and sacred water from the River Blancheur, over two thousand miles away. But you cannot confirm nor deny.), threatening red doors slowly creaking open as the King and Queen come into view. 

They’re sitting on their thrones, as per usual, but they aren’t the only ones in the room like they normally are. Instead, there’s another knight, as equally decked out as you, standing before them, arms crossed behind their back. 

“We hope that you can wear these honors proudly and do your duties with pride,” the King says regally, deep, thick voice echoing throughout the room. 

“I will stop at nothing to ensure this kingdom’s greatness,” the knight says back, just as formal. The knight gives a long bow, red sashes around their wrist dangling towards the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being replaced. But of course, that’s not the case. 

“Oh, Y/N,” the Queen says happily, noticing your waiting right in front of the closed doors to the throne room. “Prudent, as always.”

“I aspire to please,” you say with a bow. The King gives you a warm smile, one you’re willing to bet that this other knight isn’t often on the receiving end of. 

“Your timing is impeccable,” the King says, ushering for you to come forward. You do so, taking calculated steps along the red carpet, woven nearly two centuries ago and maintained ever since. “We were just congratulating Sir JK on his recent accomplishments in the Black Forest.”

“Of course,” you say with a nod, refusing to turn to your left so you can stare down this Sir JK for yourself. “The military made groundbreaking strides for our kingdom there.”

“You are the first person to know this, other than him, of course, but we’ve decided to appoint him as the Head of the Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Kalar,” the King says proudly. 

It takes everything in your willpower not to let your mouth drop open. You blink rapidly, making sure that you aren’t in a daze nor still asleep. Sure enough, you’re wide awake and your ears and eyes seem to be working perfectly. The knight next to you is taking over the highest position a knight can hold in your kingdom, one that even you haven’t been given. 

You’ve been replaced. 

“What an incredible honor,” you say, body stiff. You can practically feel the ego of the knight next to you radiating off of him. It makes your nerves twitch. 

“I think so as well,” the King says proudly. He has, luckily, not picked up on your sudden mood change. “So, I’ve called you here to appoint you as his second-in-command.”

You bow graciously at his words, ensuring that, despite your bitter attitude, you are still thankful for this opportunity. Mostly. You are mostly thankful for this opportunity. 

“I’m honored and grateful, Your Majesties,” you say, head facing the carpet. “I would rather die than let down my kingdom.”

“You two are to work together closely,” the Queen advises, words that make your ears bleed. Oh, wonderful, now you have to work hand-in-hand with the person that stole your favor with the royal household right from underneath your feet? You can think of nothing more enjoyable. “Your cooperation alone will ensure the utmost safety and security of this kingdom.”

“We shall do better than our best,” the knight beside you says. His words make your eyes roll back into your head, but you’ve been a bigger brownnoser in your past. You can forgive that, even if the man next to you radiates an energy you’d rather not surround yourself with. 

“I’m pleased to hear it. Your training and work together begins now, so do not hesitate to get to know each other.”

You and him take one baited breath each before turning to each other. You both bow out of obligatory respect, which satisfies the King and Queen well enough. And as you come up, you catch a glimpse of each other’s eyes. His are dark, rounded pupils. They’re hiding something. 

You’re determined to figure out what it is. 

“Call me J,” the knight says the moment you’ve stepped foot outside of the palace. The setting sun shines dimly on the main road, and many of the vendors are beginning to pack up their belongings in order to head home. 

“Okay, J,” you say suspiciously. Everything about him unsettles you slightly. Perhaps it’s the fact that behind the armor and the mask and the badges, he’s extremely good-looking. Or maybe it’s the fact that he swiped the top-ranking knight position right from your fingertips. It must be that. “It’s baffling to me that we haven’t met yet. If you’ve been in such high favor with the King and Queen, then I must have seen you somewhere.” You wonder if he can hear the bitterness lacing your features. You sure hope that he can. 

“I guess our paths just never crossed,” J says, taking a bite out of a peach he just purchased from a farmer’s daughter, who was watching over the stall as her father haggled with another vendor. You watched as he winked to the girl as she gave him two peaches for the price of one. “I’m more on the ground than you are, am I not? You spend much of your time strategizing in the castle.”

“You don’t know what I do,” you huff out. He finishes the peach and wraps up the pip in a piece of cloth from his pocket before tucking it away. There is no place to dispose of it on the main street anyway. 

“Don’t I?” J says with a sly grin, one that makes you want to kick him in the shin and push him into the grass. “Everyone knows what you do, Y/N. You were the King and Queen’s favorite.”

The way he uses the past tense doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“But, as it seems, being on the battlefield outweighs directing it from above,” J says. He keeps his eyes off of you and his head held high while your gaze focuses in on him out of pure fury, just another way to hold his newfound superiority over your head. Five minutes next to him and he already seems to know how to push every single one of your buttons. 

“So it seems,” you say bitterly. 

“You and I really must get along, Y/N,” J says casually as you begin to stray from the hustle of the main street. Neither of you seem to have a particularly clear destination in mind, only a path that must be taken for the sake of the greater good. It’s only the prospect that if you do well enough, you’ll impress the King and Queen and regain your favor with them that’s keeping you from socking J in the face and dashing off, taking his second peach with you. “We’ll be spending lots of time together.”

“Doesn’t that sound like the bee’s knees,” you mutter to yourself. For the greater good. 

“Should it not?” J asks innocently. It makes you want to wipe that smirk right off of his face, that knowing tone in his voice. “I certainly don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. Do you happen to have one with me?”

He asks it because he knows that whatever you say will incriminate you. He knows that if you say no, you’re a goddamn liar, and that if you say yes, you’re weak. Weak because you’re admitting that you can’t handle spending time with him even though you have to. Weak because you’re showing him that he has power over you. 

“No, of course not,” you say, plastering the fakest smile on your face. Two can play at this game. “In fact, would it be alright if I had that other peach? I’m absolutely starving.” You can be civil. If he can, at least.

“Sure thing,” J says, unwrapping the peach from the woven napkin the farmer’s daughter gave him.

You reach out to take it from him, but in the blink of an eye his hand dangles it over your head, too far out of reach for you to grab without losing all of your dignity in the process. 

“What do we say, Y/N?” He asks sweetly, like a parent disciplining their child. God, everything he does absolutely aggravates you. 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Perhaps you aren’t on the front lines as often as he is, but you sure know how to fight. Maybe now is a good time to remind him that you received the same training he did. 

“Please?” You ask, just as saccharine. 

“As you request, Y/N,” J says with a bow, finally handing it over. 

If this is what the next several months have in store for you, you wonder if maybe sinking down to a lower ranking might be worth it after all, especially if it means you’ll never have to see him and his bouncy hair and dark eyes again. 

You take a bite into the peach. It’s sour. 

Just your luck. 

♚ HERE ♚

When you walk into work the next day, a hush falls over the room. 

It’s not even as if the entire office has been quiet so far this workday, not as if the clock struck nine o’clock and everyone decided to start a competition to see who could shut up for the longest amount of time. 

(For the record, if anyone were to win that competition, it would be Yoongi, who usually only speaks either 1) when spoken to or 2) to let someone know when they’re being dumb via insult. The first person to lose would be Namjoon, because his job description is to boss people around. And he’s awfully good at it.)

The elevator door dinged on the twenty-third floor and you could hear Hoseok’s loud gasps and Jungkook’s cackled laugh even through the glass door that separates your office from the rest of the companies that take up residence in this particular city skyscraper. And then, as your loafers tapped on the hard linoleum floor and the glass door creaked open, the entire office fell silent. 

Quickly, you wonder if you’ve forgotten someone's birthday or if anybody’s due for a celebration of some sort. But nobody’s come to mind and the lights aren’t off, which means that this isn’t the kind of sudden silence that precedes a surprise party. 

This is the kind of sudden silence that makes everybody go, “Oh shit.”

It feels like you’re walking on eggshells as you make your way over to your desk. You’re a couple minutes late due to oversleeping (for reasons that start with J and end with -ungkook) so everybody’s already here, and the office should be as boisterous and rowdy as always. And yet, something’s different. 

You’re left entirely in the dark in concern with what the reasoning is, so you just decide that you’d rather not be the one to break the tense quiet that’s befallen your office and settle down, logging into your work desktop and checking today’s assignments on Slack. 

Five minutes pass and you can’t help but think that, of the many, many days you’ve spent in this office with these people, this has got to be the most awkward by an overwhelmingly long shot. Not even the time Namjoon showed up with his hair dyed purple and traces of a sharpie drawing with a certain phallic design on his cheek was more awkward than this. 

It seems that even Namjoon’s picked up on the vibe of your workspace today, walking in and out without a word. He wheels in a portable whiteboard from one of your meeting rooms and writes down everybody’s assignments on the board in his handwriting, which makes his O’s look like D’s. 

Ten minutes in and this is the quietest your office has ever been in the history of mankind, probably. You’re almost convinced that genuinely no one will speak to each other until five o’clock, when Jimin’s end-of-work alarm goes off and you all pack up and go home, and that today’s workday is an exercise in meditation and peace, two things that are seldom available in your usual office environment. 

And then, out of nowhere, 

“Oh my God, I can’t take it anymore,” Hoseok says loudly, letting out a breath you didn’t even realize he had been holding. It’s highly unlikely that Hoseok spent the past ten minutes holding his breath because he wasn’t allowed to talk under your office’s societal norm of silence, but you honestly can’t put it past him. Speaking is essentially the equivalent of breathing to him. “I’ve been wanting to bother Jimin for not responding to my email from yesterday for the past five minutes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this, it’s clear that Y/N doesn’t care at all about what happened.”

“What don’t I care about?” You blurt out, equally as curious as everyone else also seems to release their baited breaths. 

Hoseok and Jimin immediately begin to argue about appropriate email-response time between coworkers and Yoongi rolls a couple of feet over from his own desk to enlighten you. 

“Jungkook told everyone that you had been docked from your top rank in Kingdom, and the whole office seems to have taken it very seriously,” Yoongi mutters into your ear, making you scrunch up your nose in exasperation. Is he kidding? 

“That’s why everyone was so quiet? Because they didn’t want to bring it up?” 

“I guess so, but I was just quiet because it was nice to have the whole office shut up for a few minutes in the morning,” Yoongi says with a shrug before wheeling back to his own desk, where an anime you vaguely recognize as Haikyuu!! is playing on his monitor. 

Immediately, you whip around to meet eyes with Jungkook, who looks like he’s been expecting your furious glare all morning. He smiles guiltily and can offer you literally nothing other than a mouthed sorry because you two are in a workplace environment where shouting is, generally, socially unacceptable. 

Despite your standing on the game, it’s easy to argue and even easier to prove that your coworkers care much more about Kingdom than you do. The loading screen of the castle in Monet’s art style is Hoseok’s desktop background. Jungkook has a little sword decoration next to his computer, and a couple of his pens are official Kingdom merch that you’re pretty sure he purchased from Hot Topic. Taehyung and Jimin play during their lunch break, the only time in the workday where shouting is socially acceptable, and the both of them came to last year’s Halloween party dressed as knights. Even Namjoon’s in on the game, though he rarely has time to play and usually has no idea what everyone else is referencing when they talk about Kingdom. 

Contrastingly, you enjoy the game but very seldom do you actually broadcast that affection in public. You need to have at least some semblance of personal dignity in this absolute free-for-all of a place of employment. 

So really, it’s no wonder that all of your coworkers acted like it was the end of the world when you got knocked from first place. To them, that would be like having a winning lottery ticket only to drop it onto train tracks and watch as the public transportation system has a field day with it. 

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung says as he comes over and hands you a Tootsie Roll from the stash he keeps in one of his desk drawers for bad days. Apparently, this is a bad day. “Jungkook told us and we didn’t want to put salt in the wound.”

Even if their methodology was weird and slightly unsettling, the sentiment was there. “Thanks guys,” you tell Taehyung with a smile, “but I think you guys took it harder than I did.”

“Of course we did!” Jungkook says with a cry. He is objectively the most torn up out of the lot of you. “We had the top player in Kingdom in our very office, and now what! You were famous, Y/N! Whoever that bozo is who took your place is gonna feel the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company.”

“Who’s feeling the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company?” Seokjin asks as he strolls into the office, even later than you. To be fair, it’s looking like he’s got a box of a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts, which is enough for anyone to forgive him, even your hard headed boss. “Is it Jimin? Did he steal your Post-Its again? I saw he had a new pack.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen for barely a second before they narrow in on Jimin, who is already skirting away to find Namjoon so he can use him as a human shield. Jimin has quite the history of taking Jungkook’s office supplies only for a second and then failing to return it. 

“No, but I’m gonna deal with him later,” Jungkook says, fishing through his office supplies on the hunt for his Post-it notes, which may or may not be currently in his possession. “We were just talking about how Y/N got knocked from the top spot in Kingdom by some asshat none of us have ever heard of, and now he’s going to feel the wrath. Of us. Specifically me, but also us.”

“What wrath?” Taehyung jokes. “You’re fresh out of college. You’re practically as intimidating as a baby bunny.”

Jungkook growls just for emphasis, and it only proves Taehyung’s point more. He’s always had a baby face.  

“Well, I brought doughnuts to cheer everyone up,” Seokjin says, opening the box to reveal a dozen doughnuts of varying kinds that is likely to be finished within the next thirty seconds. 

“Oh my God, Kim Seokjin, I love you,” Hoseok says before immediately taking one and a half and bouncing off. 

“Save the pink-frosted one for me, will you? It’s my favorite,” Seokjin requests. He’s not even monitoring the box, too busy putting all his stuff away and getting settled at his desk. He’s basically asking to be robbed. 

“Aw, I wanted that one,” you joke sadly, already going for the chocolate-frosted one with rainbow sprinkles. The box is nearly three-fourths empty. Even Namjoon’s materialized out of nowhere to take the glazed one to eat while he completes the next fifty-four things on his to-do list. 

“Then let’s split it,” Seokjin says without missing a beat. Your heart does the exact opposite. 

“Jimin, you wanna split one with me?” Taehyung asks. 

“Ew, gross, no way, I want a whole one to myself,” Jimin immediately rejects. 

“I’ll go and grab it,” Seokjin says, standing up to nab the doughnut for some evil being (by the name of Jimin) takes it for himself. He plucks it from the box and takes two napkins, too, walking over to your desk as he splits the doughnut in half. 

“For you,” he says casually, like it isn’t making your heart beat out of your chest. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say jokingly, taking the doughnut and placing it on the napkin he hands to you. 

“Tell me about this Kingdom thing? You got knocked from first place?” Seokjin asks, making conversation as he lingers by your desk. It’s obvious that nobody’s going to be getting any work done. 

“Yeah, but it’s really nothing special. Everyone was making a huge deal out of it, which you should be very glad you missed, because the first ten minutes of this workday were absolutely silent and it was awful in every way that something can be awful,” you tell him. 

Seokjin laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. “Then I’m glad that I came late,” he says with a chuckle. “I couldn’t imagine a day where Jimin and Taehyung were silent for more than two minutes.”

“I lived through it,” you say, smiling. “Anyway, everyone seems to have gotten over the fact that I’m no longer the top-ranked Kingdom player. I’m kind of down about it myself, just because I worked really hard, but whoever it is that took over, I’m glad for them. I mean, it’s just a game.”

“That it is,” Seokjin says. “How about a toast to your Kingdom-playing skills, and to whoever it is that beat you.”

“Cheers,” you say, holding out your half of the doughnut. 

“Cheers,” Seokjin echoes. 

The two of you clink doughnuts, and they squish together awkwardly. 

“You should bring doughnuts more often,” You muse.

“If it means we don’t have to work and can just talk like this, then I will,” Seokjin says as he takes a bite, already heading back over to his own desk. He waves goodbye with a smile, and only then do you finally indulge. 

Sweet. As always. 

♚ THERE ♚

When you were moved to the Military Tactics Unit, the King and Queen pulled you out of military training in favor of you spending more time working on strategies for the Kingdom’s armies rather than sparring with fellow Knights. It was a wise move on the part of Their Royal Highnesses, who feared losing you to a rebel group or warring kingdom, and you didn’t mind not having to engage in the physicality of training with those that would be spending more time on the battlefield. 

And at the time, you saw it as a much-needed break from hand-to-hand combat training for years on end when you hadn’t set foot on the front lines in months. But now, that decision has decided to come back and bite you where it hurts. 

Because as second-in-command to the Head of the Knights, you (and J, both luckily and unluckily) are tasked with the important duty of supervising the military training of the new recruits. This spells doom in various ways, some of which include (and are not limited to):

Having to spend more time with J. 

Having to spend more time with J without letting all of the recruits know you both vastly dislike each other. 

Having to spend more time with J in a scenario in which there is constant hand-to-hand combat. 

Having to spend more time with J without being able to make up an excuse about needing to attend to urgent military business in order to leave. 

Having to spend more time with J. 

Attempting to remember how to spar.

So, in essence, you’re screwed. 

This is the mindset with which you walk into your very first training session in over six months, a few minutes late, of course. Recently you’ve been attempting to calculate the maximum amount of time you can spend either being tardy or leaving early from events that involve J without you facing any repercussions. So far it’s been working out well. 

When you walk in the door, before you can greet any of the recruits or even offer J a slightly sarcastic wave, he says, “Look who’s finally shown up,” loud enough for all of the recruits to turn to look as you stroll in tardy. 

“I got held up by a vendor on the main road, my apologies,” you lie like a liar. It’s obvious that J does not believe you whatsoever, but it satisfies the recruits, who return to their business as usual. 

“Well, you’re just in time for warm-up,” J says, false positivity radiating throughout every single word. 

You walk up to where he stands at the front of the room, wearing much less of his official armor than he normally is. Right now, he stands in front of you in a plain tan cotton shirt and training pants, similar to the rest of the recruits. It’s really quite jarring, to see him dressed so differently from what he usually wears—dark armor and scarlet red sashes. It makes him seem… almost softer. 

“Thought you might have bailed on me,” J mutters into your ear as the recruits begin to stretch. 

“Have a little more faith in me, for God’s sake,” you grumble in return. You may not like him, but you aren’t about to abandon your responsibilities just because of a little bit of distaste. 

“Do you wanna take warm-up, or should I?” He offers, motioning to the recruits. They all look so nervous, so desperate to prove themselves on the first day of training. It reminds you of yourself, like you’re looking into a mirror and a time machine all at once. 

“You’re the boss,” you say, unabashedly letting the bitterness seep through your tone. “You choose.”

Unsurprisingly, J decides to let you handle the warm-up session, something that is just a precursor to the main event and therefore, not as important. He takes a couple of steps back and follows your instructions as you go through stretches and basic movements in combat, allowing all of the recruits to get a feel for what knighthood is really like in the Kingdom of Kalar. Warm-up was always your least favorite part during training, so boring in comparison to the sparring and hand-to-hand combat that you would engage in soon after. Sure, it was necessary, but when you were a wide-eyed, overeager trainee, you were willing to risk a pulled muscle if it meant you could beat someone up sooner. 

With this in mind, you wrap up the session in a fairly timely manner, letting the recruits do their own stretching after everything absolutely necessary has been covered. It also means that you can sit back and let J do most of the heavy lifting, which, while you’re bitter about him getting all of the attention, is better than having to do it yourself based solely upon memory. You remember combat well enough to handle yourself in the battlefield, but the technicalities of training have completely slipped your memory by now. 

J and everything else about him may leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you have to admit that he’s a good teacher and an even better morale booster. This must come from his experience out in the field, on the front lines, where raising his troops’ spirits came as a necessary quality to develop when times were tough. 

He speaks slowly, explains everything in enough detail to cover all of the bases without losing attention, and frequently opens up the floor for questions. And as per usual, the recruits already begin to cling to him like vines, desperate to soak up every ounce of knowledge that he doles out. 

J doesn’t need the ego boost, that’s for certain. 

“Now that I’ve gone through everything, I believe that the best way to learn how to spar is just to start doing it, even if you haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing. Despite what you may think about me, experience is the best teacher,” he says with a smile, earning a laugh from the crowd. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Um, sir?” A timid recruit raises her hand, her body curled in on herself. You take one look at her, and know that she’ll come out of her shell soon enough. 

“Yes, a question?” J asks. 

“Would you mind giving a demonstration? Just so we can watch. So we, well, don’t injure ourselves or each other while we’re sparring.”

A demonstration? You blink, having awoken from the trance you had placed yourself in one J stepped up to take over the training session. Doesn’t a demonstration mean… well, you and him?

J seems to come to this realization at the same time that you do, and grins wildly, giddy. He knows exactly how much you’ll hate doing this, which is all the more reason to say yes. “Of course, we’d be happy to. Y/N?”

You hold in the sigh you’ve been wanting to let out for about five minutes now, taking a deep exhale as you turn to face J. You’ve been in close proximity to him before, but you are about to get a whole lot closer. 

“If you say so,” you say with a shrug, trying to keep this as lighthearted and casual as possible. Though, both of those things are likely to be tossed out the window now that you’re about to spar with your worst enemy. 

J grabs a mat from the side of the room to lay down on the floor in front of you, and the two of you step onto it. Instantly, you’re transported back to when you were still in training, bouncing up and down on your feet with your fists raised in front of you, ready to take on the next recruit. You had always been quite good at sparring, back then. 

Now is a completely different story. 

“Are you ready?” J asks as you face each other in front of a crowd of recruits, all of whom are watching you with hawk-like intensity. 

“Guess I can’t say ‘no’, can I?” You joke, though if J offers you a way out of this, you’d gladly take it, shame and dignity be damned. 

“Well then, do your worst.”

He’s an open target. You’ve never been given an opportunity to sock him in the face before now, and you’d absolutely love to take it, but this is a sparring session, not a revenge session. That can be saved for a later date. Instead, you bounce on your feet like a nervous, excitable recruit, and aim for his neck. 

He easily dodges, but you expected that, and counter his attack with your leg. It goes back and forth like this, as your muscle memory kicks in and you remember exactly what sparring was like back in your training sessions. For a few seconds in the middle of it, you genuinely think you and him are on a pretty level playing field. 

And then—

One punch gone wrong and he’s got you lifted up off of the ground and onto his back, having grabbed your wrist at the perfect time to hoist you over his shoulder. You gasp in shock, body not necessarily remembering this part, and then—

He slams the both of you down onto the mat, your back hitting the cushion with a thud as the breathe gets knocked from your lungs. You definitely haven’t done this part in a while. 

You know the recruits are all watching you intently, but you refuse to lose like this, even if this is normally the part where the person pinned underneath the other one surrenders. With both of your arms and all of your force, you attempt to shove J off of you by using your elbow to punch him in the chest. If you go down (which you most certainly will), you will go down with a fight. 

He sees your move coming from a mile away, and immediately pins both of your arms above your head with a simple swish of his hand. The other one is holding up his body by your head as you both stare at each other, breathing heavily. His leg sits in between both of yours, resting up against your thigh, and his head hovers a very dangerous less-than-three inches away from your own. If a particularly near-sighted person were to stumble upon the both of you, you’d be absolutely screwed. 

The both of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a second, the wind knocked out of you. You never quite realized what his face looks like up close. His cheeks are bright red. But it’s a second too long because the recruits have gone silent, refusing to applaud or do anything else to signal that the sparring match is over. 

And then, it feels like a million years pass as J slowly removes himself from on top of your body, standing up and dusting his hands off before leaning down and offering his hand to help you up. Too floored and absolutely speechless to reject his extended palm like you normally would, you grab onto his hand and let him hoist you up, unable to speak. 

“How was that for a demonstration?” J asks the recruits, who are all blinking like they’ve just witnessed something far too shocking for their liking. 

Another trainee, a boisterous young man who walked into today’s session with his energy fully up and his eyes on the prize, raises his hand. “Could you show us again?”

You and J take one look at each other. 

No. Way. 

♚ HERE ♚

Because your office is both tightly knit and also uncannily resembles a cast of grown adults playing various high school stereotypes in a Hallmark movie, every year you do Office Superlatives. Office superlatives are basically an excuse for everyone to come up with a way to insult each other 1) while getting paid to do so and 2) without facing any repercussions whatsoever. 

For three years in a row, your office has designated you as “Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Really Important”, a superlative that came about because on your very first day, you spilled your coffee on the one and only Kim Namjoon, who you then mistook as your boss, and thus ensued the most embarrassing one minute and thirteen seconds of your entire life in front of a bunch of colleagues you would have to see every weekday for the foreseeable future. 

Thankfully, you haven’t spilled your coffee on anyone important since then, even if you do regularly knock over your pencil cup and send every pastel-colored highlighter flying across the hardwood floor. It became such a frequent occurrence that, for April Fool’s Day last year, Taehyung and Jimin taped every single thing on your desk to your desk to see how long it would take you to notice. 

(It took you over three weeks, but that’s besides the point.)

“I know that the saying is ‘the customer is always right’, but this client I’m working with right now is literally wrong,” Taehyung says with a sigh. He collapses back in his office chair, mindlessly playing with the fur of the stuffed Pomeranian dog he keeps on his desk, staring down the email on his desktop. “Like, I’m not Squarespace or Wix. Either you pay me to design your website entirely, or you do it yourself. I’m not a drag-and-drop of a person, and I don’t get paid to be consulted on every font choice.”

“Didn’t you write on your resume that you can identify every standard Microsoft font without being told the name?” Yoongi asks with a frown from across the office. He’s making the most of his gigantic desktop computer, and has a tab open with One Punch Man right next to a Photoshop logo design he’s working on. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it,” Taehyung says with a frown. “I need someone who knows how to let people down easily.”

“Jimin?” Hoseok pipes up unhelpfully, earning an eraser to the face from Jimin, who is notorious for going on a bunch of first dates and very, very seldom going on a second one. You don’t even think that for the entire time you’ve known him, he’s ever gone a third date with someone. Ever. 

“Do not make fun of my lifestyle choices!” Jimin shouts out defensively. “I just like meeting new people.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says like a white girl in a Disney Channel Original Movie, “and then never meeting them again.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” Jimin tells him pointedly, already beginning to stand up from his office chair to attempt to further convince him that serial-first-dating isn’t all that bad. “Two weeks ago, I saw this guy that I had gone on a date with last year and he told me that his friend was starting up a small pet barbershop business and needed help with the graphic design for his company. Now I’m designing this guy’s logo and backsplash for his wall.” He says matter-of-factly. 

Hoseok frowns. “So, what I’m hearing is that you saw a guy you had gone on a date with last year, and what you got out of it, was more work.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say something else, but he flounders. Hoseok cackles to himself, shaking his head because Jimin’s just proved his point further. 

“I’ll ask Seokjin,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “He could tell me that I’ve lost my job and that I’m getting evicted from my apartment and I would thank him.”

Amen. 

“Hey, where is Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, spinning around in his office chair for the most efficient way to scan the entire office in search of the man. “He was just here watching One Punch Man with Yoongi.”

“I didn’t even notice he had gotten up,” Yoongi says, turning to the empty spot next to him where Seokjin once was. 

“I’ll go look for him, I need to grab something from the printer, anyway,” you volunteer, pushing your chair back, standing up, and avoiding the gazes of anybody in the office who happens to have knowledge of your not-so-secret secret crush. This means that you are staring down at the lines of the wooden planks in the floor as you walk over to the back hallway, because every single person in the room currently has at least… well… some insight. 

“He’s all yours, Y/N,” Taehyung wolf whistles, making you roll your eyes as you head down the hallway.  

Too busy counting the planks that make up the hardwood floor and hoping that you’ll maybe be able to identify Seokjin by the shoes he’s wearing rather than anything else, you don’t look at where you’re going as you make a beeline for the printing room. That is, you make a beeline for the printing room until you crash right into an unsuspecting colleague. 

“Oh, shit!” Said colleague cries out.

Oh God. 

You look up to find Seokjin standing in front of you, a nearly-empty cup of low-grade office coffee in his hand, and a growing brown stain on his pale blue dress shirt. One look on the floor and there’s a puddle of coffee gathered at your feet, wet splotches on your flats and his loafers. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide and apologetic as he immediately searches for some place to put down his coffee to avoid any more casualties. He looks right at you, making you want to curl in on yourself, before his eyes train down to your torso.

Only then do you realize he’s not shamelessly staring at your chest, but rather at the massive brown stain on the front of your blouse, quickly seeping into the fabric, the scalding temperature of the coffee having gone right over your head the moment you realized who exactly it was that you crashed into. 

“Uh…” you stammer, brain crashing as everything that’s just happened in the past thirty seconds catches up to you all at once. 

“Oh my God, I’m such a mess,” Seokjin says, fumbling awkwardly as he finally finds a trash can to toss his sad lump of a coffee cup into.

No you’re not, you want to tell him, but the words don’t come out and you’re left standing there, looking sort of like you blame him for everything, when in reality, you just have no idea how to function in front of him. 

“Coffee stains,” Seokjin says, hands fishing through his seemingly bottomless pants pockets (he could probably fit an entire Nintendo Switch and its dock in there) until he pulls out this measly little thing that vaguely resembles your orange highlighter. “Here, I have a Tide To-Go pen.”

Before you can tell him that you can just deal with the stain and wash it in the privacy of your own home where you don’t look like a bumbling idiot, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the gender neutral bathroom nearby, locking the door as the light flickers on. 

“Here, do you need help?” Seokjin asks, holding out his Tide To-Go pen as he wets a paper towel made of entirely recycled materials and begins fruitlessly dabbing at his shirt. 

“I’m alright, really,” you insist, staring into the mirror and trying desperately to avoid the fact that Seokjin’s shirt becomes transparent when it’s wet. Maybe quitting your job and moving to another city doesn’t sound unappealing after all. “I can just get it out with OxiClean at my apartment, Seokjin, seriously.”

“Are you sure? That’s what the Tide To-Go pen is for,” Seokjin says, holding it out towards you again as a final attempt to get you to use it. 

“No offense, Seokjin, but I don’t know if the Tide To-Go pen is even going to make a dent in the stain on my shirt,” you chuckle, the only thing you can think of to get him to stop offering the thing to you. The Tide To-Go pen is meant for when you accidentally get a bit of ketchup onto your jeans as you move the french fry from your plate to your mouth. Not when you’ve got a giant coffee stain on the front of your shirt. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Seokjin says, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt to try and get a better grip on the fabric as he relentlessly scrubs at it. God help you. He may as well take the whole thing off at this point—though you really, really hope that he doesn’t. “I’m such a klutz.”

“No, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you tell him. You still know that you passed by 107 wooden planks before you crashed into him, because that is what you do when you don’t want to look anyone in the eye. 

“Seriously, though, I had the cup of coffee. I feel really bad, I could pay to get it dry cleaned for you?” He offers, eyes wide and in search of some way to make it up to you. 

“No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m can handle a stain, Seokjin. I’m an adult. I live in my own apartment and everything,” you say firmly, refusing to accept anything else from him. God, if he paid for your dry-cleaning, you’d never be able to live that down. “Maybe I’ll finally stop being voted Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important,” you joke, trying to make light of the fact that you’re standing in the tiny gender-neutral bathroom together, Seokjin’s practically got half of his transparent dress shirt unbuttoned, and you both have massive and very conspicuous brown stains on your tops. All wonderful, wonderful things. 

At this point, Seokjin stares down at his shirt and, quite frankly, just gives up, smoothing out his shirt as best as he can and tossing the poor, now-coffee-colored paper towel away. 

“I suppose it’s high time we give you a break for always knocking over that pencil cup of yours,” Seokjin jokes back as he opens the door, motioning for you to leave first. 

“We should invest in some Velcro for it,” you suggest, making Seokjin chuckle as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Uh… what the fuck?” 

The two of you are stopped in your tracks by a particularly suspicious Taehyung, who just witnessed the two of you walk out of the same bathroom with both of your clothes fairly askew. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” you immediately tell him, eyes wide. Count on him to get the wrong idea. 

“Okay,” Taehyung says, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“Taehyung, come on, I spilled coffee on the both of us,” Seokjin attempts, but Taehyung is absolutely not having it. 

“That’s what they all say,” he says cryptically, nodding as he heads to the printer room with his eyes still narrowed. He glares at the both of you until he rounds the corner, out of sight, and by then your cheeks have heated up so badly you think you might actually start sweating.

“Now the whole office is going to think we’re dating,” you say, somewhat jokingly but also somewhat seriously. There’s no way Taehyung’s going to be able to keep his mouth shut for any longer than the next five minutes. 

Seokjin laughs, looking at you and shrugging. “There are worse things, right?”

Are there?

♚ THERE ♚

“Oh, Y/N!”

You inhale. 

Of all of the places in the Kingdom that J has not yet infiltrated and ruined for you, the small cafe on the edge of the kingdom borders has to have been the last one. You discovered it while you were on night watch as a baby knight, a task given to those too dedicated to the job to release but not yet prepared enough to fight on the front lines. It’s a quiet place, open more hours of the day than closed, owned by an old lady with no other family to take care of the business. You’ve already promised her that after she passes, you will immediately begin funding the cafe yourself, too much money on your hands and not enough wonderful places like this to spend it on.

When days are loud and hectic, when the King and Queen and all of their military advisors are stressed and have been snapping at you all day, this is where you come. The old lady keeps her door open especially for you (at least that’s what she tells you), always with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and a wise old story to tell you. Sometimes, you’ll get to tell a story back, and you exchange words of wisdom from a knight at the highest ranking in the kingdom and an elder with many years of experience in the kingdom behind her. She always tells you, “keep your eyes wide and your heart open, because things can only enter it if you’re looking out for them.”

You’ve held those words close to your soul ever since the first time you heard them. 

But when your eyes are wide and staring down a certain knight in the kingdom who seems to have stumbled upon your one sacred place, you’re a little bothered, to say the least.

You exhale.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say sourly, the scalding tea burning your tongue as you take a sip. 

“I’ve never seen this place before,” J admits helplessly, already bowing to the old lady who runs the place. He introduces himself handsomely, and much like everyone else bewitched by his good looks and unrealistically charismatic personality, she immediately warms up to him. 

“I wish it could stay that way,” you mumble to yourself, far too quiet for anyone except you and your tea to hear. “It’s far away,” you say to him as the lady ushers him to the seat next to yours, already promising him tea on the house. You sigh. “Wouldn’t expect you to go hunting for a nice tea place when there are so many wonderful places in the city.”

“I guess it’s nice to branch out,” J says with a shrug. “I have to say that I don’t really go out to cafes all that often. Too busy.”

“You know I understand how that goes,” you tell him honestly. For once, it’s something you can actually relate to. “But I think that it’s important to take a break from our duties and just relax. We don’t have much time to do that, you know.”

The lady brings over tea, and J insists he pay her for it despite her insistence for him not to. She shuffles off into the back before he can even get out some coins.

“Tell me, where can I leave this? I feel terrible not paying,” J asks you. It catches you off guard, really, mostly because he seems to be the kind of person who walks around the center square winking at every vendor in the hopes of receiving free merchandise. 

“Oh,” you say, embarrassingly speechless. “Well, I suppose I could take it and give it to her. If we left rather soon then we could simply leave it on the counter for her to find. It’s likely that she won’t come back out for a while, since I have company.”

“Am I your company, Y/N?” J asks, almost teasingly. It makes you want to chuck your cup of jasmine tea into his face. 

“Don’t think too much of it,” you advise him, a warning to tell him to knock it off. “We’re just here together.”

“Lucky us,” J says, holding up his cup of tea for a toast. You indulge him (begrudgingly so), letting your glasses clink together as you both finish a much needed warm drink on a chilly afternoon. 

Too soon, the respite of the cafe is broken by a knock at the door. You both turn to find a messenger waiting patiently outside the cafe, motioning for J to come and speak to him. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” J says, scooting back his chair and heading over, shutting the door behind him. 

The moment the door closes, the old lady reappears from the back of the room, collecting your finished cups as you both listen intently to the murmuring outside. 

“That young man mentioned that the two of you spend lots of time together,” the muses, cleaning the cups with a wet rag. She’s got a knowing look in her eye, like she’s picked up on something the both of you seem to have overlooked. 

“We’re both knights,” you correct. It’s important to you that she knows that you don’t spend time together out of personal preference. It’s merely obligation. “So we see each other quite often.”

“I’ve never seen him around before,” she says pointedly, “but he seems to know quite a lot about you.”

“Oh, not really,” you insist. How could he? You’ve barely known him a month. Still, it’s clear that the lady doesn’t believe you. 

“As you say,” she says, skeptical. 

You’re about to open your mouth and reject her notions further, but then the door opens up again, and J looks terribly apologetic as he walks inside, joining your side. “We’ve been called in.”

As per usual, the Kingdom appears with impeccable timing to ruin the rest of your afternoon. It has a striking tendency to do that. 

“For what?” You ask, exasperated. J doesn’t look much happier. 

“Criminal hearings,” J says, and the words make you you toss your head back and sigh. 

Criminal hearings and its many, many procedures are quite possibly your least favorite part of being a top-ranked royal knight. With your knowledge of the ins and outs of the military and the kingdom’s inner workings, as well as with you being an advisor to the generals and the King and Queen, you are often obligated to attend these, just in case there is a desperate need for the technicalities of military crimes that no one else can provide. It is, admittedly, extremely boring, since you can’t really offer any sort of insight or opinion on the actual criminal and their crime at hand. 

“Fine,” you say, suddenly much less energized than you were approximately thirty seconds ago. “I suppose that we’ll have to be on our way.”

“Ma’am,” J says, attracting the attention of the old lady behind the counter. He holds out some coins, palm facing up. “Please accept this from me. I couldn’t leave without paying you for your wonderful tea and service.”

“Oh, pish posh,” the lady says with a shake of her hand. “Any friend of Y/N’s is well-deserving of some tea. You both work very hard. You should take any opportunity that presents itself to relax, and enjoy being young.”

“Please,” J insists, placing the coins in her hand, “a token of my gratitude. We shall return soon, right Y/N?” He gives your shoulder a nudge, making you look up at him. Return? You’d be blessed if J forgot about this place entirely, though you know that he’s bound to come back soon. 

Perhaps there are worse things than losing your favorite cafe to him. Perhaps, you can simply learn to enjoy his company, instead. 

“Of course, how could I resist?” You say, waving goodbye to the lady at the counter. “We really must be going, but I shall see you soon.”

“Take care of yourselves, the both of you!” She sees you off with a smile and a wink directed right at you for a cause you aren’t too keen on picking up. Old ladies are always so vague. 

When you walk outside, you’re surprised to find yourselves alone. “Where’s the messenger guard?” You ask, looking around to see if he’s found a tree to take respite from the sun under. 

J laughs, warm and hearty. “I sent him off, told him we would be able to make it ourselves.”

“Oh, alright,” you say with a shrug, already beginning to trudge the familiar path towards the castle. 

You take six steps before realizing that J is neither next to you nor following you, still standing on the porch of the cafe as the sun makes his hair glimmer a dark caramel in the light. 

“Aren’t you coming?” You turn around to ask, an eyebrow raised as you tap your foot on the cobblestone road. 

“Have you ever skipped a criminal hearing before, Y/N?” J asks, and the very notion of bailing makes your eyes go wide. 

“Skipped?” You clarify. 

“That’s what I said,” J confirms. 

“No…” You trail off, feeling more and more like the try hard you once were while training, wide-eyed and eager to prove yourself. Standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on your toes and twiddling your fingers as he steps off of the porch, taking long strides to reach you, makes you feel so nervous. With every step he takes closer to you, your heart begins to beat faster, faster, faster. 

“Well,” J says, reaching out his hand to take hold of your own. “Would you like to start?”

When you were stationed on the Kingdom’s borders, you thought you had explored every nook and cranny of Kala. You had wandered through forests, across rivers, and into small edge villages with goods you had never even heard of before. You thought you had seen it all. 

Clearly, you were mistaken. 

J pulls you off of the cobblestone path and immediately takes you into the woods that surround the cafe, weaving past trees and ferns and grass alike. This time of year, the forest is ripe with greenery, right when summer is coming to an end but the leaves have yet to begin to fade to brown. Even without landmarks or a path to guide him, J seems to know exactly where the two of you are going, like he’s taken this road a million times before. And still, you had never seen him before this. 

It’s a wonder that the two of you missed each other for so long. 

“Where are we going, J?” You ask, laughing as the exhilaration of skipping your duties in favor of a fun day in the forest begins to flow through your veins. You’ve never done this before. 

“Just wait, you’ll see,” he says cryptically, taking you down a large hill. You must be out of the Kingdom borders by now, with how far you’ve been going, and yet, no one had ever thought to place guards in this area. 

Five more minutes of travelling and you’re near convinced that J is about to take you to some cave in the floor of the forest and murder you, when he tugs you up a hill to reveal—

It’s a clearing with grass so green you’d almost think it was enchanted. The leaves of the trees whisper to each other, voices flowing with the wind that breezes by each and every one, saying hello to the branches as they rustle. Tall grass and ferns grow on the edge of the forest, disguising the clearing to anyone who wouldn’t bother to keep looking, make their way through the overgrowth and into the oasis. 

Never in a million years would you have been able to find this place on your own. 

“What do you think?” J asks excitedly as he pulls you into the middle of the clearing, where the leaves of the trees have left an opening for the sun to shine through, a halo in the middle of the forest. 

“I—I’m speechless,” you say, eyes wandering from every piece of bark to every blade of grass. You’ve always loved your Kingdom and its beauty, from the extravagant castle to the little shacks on the border, but this is more than that. This isn’t just beauty—it’s magic. “How did you find this place?”

“Strayed from the pack during military training outside,” he says guiltily. Clearly, skipping out on responsibilities has become a habit of J’s. 

“Unbelievable,” you say, fingers tracing along the wildflowers growing close to the forest floor. You take a seat in the middle of it all, letting the sun stream through the leaves as the flowers open their petals at your touch. It’s as if every single living thing has been enchanted—like none of this could exist naturally. 

“Do you like it?” J asks, taking a seat on the stone next to you. He reaches down to run his fingers through the grass, letting the soft dirt gather on his skin. 

“I don’t think I have the words,” you tell him. You thought you had found a hidden respite from the hustle and bustle, but he has found not just a respite. He’s found a home. “Why would you show me this place?”

“What do you mean?” J asks. He finds a small yellow flower, a buttercup, and plucks it from the ground, twirling it between his fingers.

“I mean, why would you bring me here? Wouldn’t you want to keep this place all for yourself?” You inquire, curious. Certainly, that’s what you would do. 

J pauses for a moment, staring down at the buttercup in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to you, watches as your fingers touch his own, taking the buttercup from him. You twirl it between your fingers, and wonder what all of this means. 

“No,” he eventually answers. “Because a place like this deserves to be shared with the people that deserve to see it.”

♚ HERE ♚

[You have 5 unread messages]

Jungkook (5:53PM): Is it still acceptable to talk about Kingdom at company dinners? Jungkook (5:53PM): Is the ban that Yoongi instated last company dinner still going? Do you think he’ll be mad if I talk about how I just got a bunch of gold from solving the mystery of the time capsule?

Yoongi (5:55PM): If I have to sit through another company dinner where everyone is talking about Kingdom and nobody is talking about anime or my dog Holly I will lose it

Taehyung (5:57PM): You’re coming, right? You mentioned having a thing that ended pretty late this evening so you weren’t sure you’d make it

Seokjin (6:03PM): Excited to see you tonight! Promise I won’t spill anything on you tonight haha

Your office’s annual company dinner is the one and only opportunity you, as employees, get per year to talk about whatever you like in front of your colleagues, all while getting a meal paid for by your wonderfully unassuming, hardheaded boss. It is both a celebration of camaraderie and, of course, being employed, and a chance for your personal group to talk about Kingdom for two hours straight without repercussions. 

Needless to say, many of you are looking forward to it. 

To Jungkook (6:07PM): Yes, but only if we get to talk about how I’m still the best at the game out of everyone To Jungkook (6:07PM): Also, don’t forget to talk to Yoongi about My Hero Academia I know that you secretly love it

To Yoongi (6:08PM): Bring earplugs? Or maybe a manga book to get the conversation going?

To Taehyung (6:08PM): Yeah, I’ll be there To Taehyung (6:08PM): Probably be late though To Taehyung (6:09PM): Save me a seat!

To Seokjin (6:10PM): Not sure if I can promise the same thing! Fingers crossed we make it out tonight unscathed by scalding hot liquids

The company dinner starts at 6:30, which means that it really starts at 7:00 by the time everyone arrives, but even still, you’ll probably be late because you are actually doing last-minute laundry, and not attending a special event like you had told Taehyung. Sue you. Your clothes were dirty. 

Standing in the middle of your apartment wearing the slouchiest clothes you own, you wonder if it’s even worth going when you know that you will probably 1) be late and 2) have to endure two hours worth of Kingdom talk and other things that leave you thoroughly embarrassed, like your nonexistent love life. 

You’ve never skipped out on a company dinner before, but then again, never have all of your colleagues been so on top of you about your very insignificant, not at all soul-crushing, extremely minimal, super unimportant, tiny little infatuation with a certain coworker, so there’s that to consider. 

Not to mention the fact that your entire office genuinely believes that the two of you hooked up in the gender neutral bathroom during the middle of the workday, which is a circumstance so improbable you have no idea how Taehyung managed to convince everybody that that was actually what happened. It’s not as if your coworkers didn’t see the ridiculous brown stains on the front of your and Seokjin’s shirts, or didn’t smell the office coffee stench all over the both of you. 

So, for once in your life, you are genuinely considering just staying at home, finishing your laundry, and eating the frozen veggie burritos you bought from Costco two weeks ago. It sounds very tempting.

This thought is immediately combated by the fact that you usually have some of the most fun during the year at this company dinner, and a free meal at a nice, upscale restaurant is something that you would normally never pass up. But then again, Seokjin will be there and he will be dressed very nicely, and the rest of your coworkers will also be there, and they will be relentless. 

Jungkook (6:33PM): Tae said you’d be late but please come soon! We can’t talk about Kingdom without the best player present!!!! Jungkook (6:33PM): Oh no Namjoon sees me with my phone

And out of every possible text you could have received that night, that one is the one that convinces you to pull out the same dress you’ve worn to the company dinner (it’s not as if anyone else will remember) every other year, tug it on, and head out. Your Costco veggie burritos will have to wait for another stay-at-home night. 

You arrive fashionably late as always, walking into the restaurant and just asking for directions to where the “big group of loud office workers” is, a term easily identifiable by the scrambled hostess with fifteen different tables to seat all at once. She points you to the back room, where you can already hear Hoseok’s laughter from outside in the main dining area. 

“You guys are loud,” you say in lieu of a greeting, everyone letting out cries of “Y/N!” and “You made it!” as you look around for the last empty seat. 

“Here, saved you a spot right next to me,” Seokjin volunteers helpfully, motioning to the empty velvet chair next to him. In the seat next to that sits Taehyung, who is grinning guiltily, like he didn’t just dupe you into thinking he had saved you a seat next to him and someone else other than the person you were hoping not to embarrass yourself in front of. 

“Thinking of me when I’m not even here, how thoughtful,” you say, walking over and sending a glare Taehyung’s way as you take your seat, the glass at the top right corner of your placemat already filled. 

“How could we forget about you?” Seokjin reasons, and he says it so casually but it makes your heart flutter all the same. 

When Seokjin’s finally started talking to Hoseok and Jimin on his other side, the two of them attempting to explain the inner workings of Kingdom to him (to little avail, as per usual), you round on Taehyung, who is every bit the best wingman and the worst friend in the entire world. 

“How could you do this to me?” You hiss at him, trying not to attract the attention of the man sitting on the opposite side of you. 

“I said I had saved you a seat!” Taehyung says defensively, clearly enjoying himself way too much. 

“This was not what I had in mind,” you tell him pointedly. 

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have hidden it from you,” Taehyung says. He motions to Seokjin, who’s laughing at something that Jimin’s just said, eyes crinkled into half moons as the waiter places the cocktail he’s ordered down in front of him. “You know, it’s not so bad having a crush on him, right?”

“He is our coworker and way out of my league, of course it is,” you remind Taehyung. 

Taehyung shrugs you off with a wave of his hand. “Give yourself some credit, Y/N. You’re hot. Embrace it.”

“I will not, thank you very much. This conversation makes me want to hurl,” you say as normally as possible, blinking to show your discomfort to Taehyung. 

“You need to stop being so afraid of what might actually come out of this,” Taehyung says, a reassuring hand on your arm. “You never know what might happen.”

“What’s definitely going to happen is that I’m going to feel too cold from the vent above my head, and we’re going to switch seats,” you say. You immediately make to stand up, but Taehyung grabs onto your wrist and looks up at you like a child begging for candy in a supermarket. 

“Please, Y/N? Just give it a try, and if you hate it by the time the entree comes around, we can switch. Alright?” He asks, a simple compromise to get you to sit back down. 

You sigh. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, no matter how terrible your aim is. 

“I didn’t order any soup, so hopefully we can last through this dinner without ruining more of our clothes,” Seokjin says, an icebreaker to ease the obvious tension between the two of you. He breaks down your walls so easily, carves out a path in the side of it to waltz right through. 

“I don’t know,” you say sarcastically,” you better finish that cocktail soon or we might both be in big trouble.”

Seokjin chuckles, warm and full, and takes another sip of the fruity drink for good measure. “Don’t know how you keep getting crowned Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important when I’m here, a walking coffee volcano.”

“When the superlatives roll around, I’ll petition the court and see if we can crown you instead,” you promise. 

“I’m honored. I’ll cherish that title for as long as I live,” Seokjin jokes, bowing to you just for good measure. “This is nice, you know.”

“What is?” You ask, peering down at the large group menu. Everything looks awfully delicious and awfully expensive, so you just go for a classic pasta dish and hope that Taehyung orders something different, so you can try each other’s. 

“Sitting next to you,” Seokjin says like it’s obvious, making you blink at your menu like it’s just offended your entire family ancestry. “I don’t think we’ve ever been paired up like this at a company dinner.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” You ask hopefully. 

“It’s nice,” Seokjin says. “I feel like we don’t get to talk very much at work.”

“You said you’d bring more doughnuts,” you remind him. Seokjin has held up on his promise, actually, and since the first round of doughnuts, he’s brought on two more occasions to brighten up everybody’s day. 

“I think I need a better excuse than doughnuts,” Seokjin says to himself. “I can’t keep going to Dunkin’ right before work, pretty soon all of the workers will know me by name and that is a level that I’m not sure I’d like to reach yet.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you tell him, a hand instinctively coming to rest on his shoulder as comfort. “Some of the Costco employees recognize me even when I’m wearing my sunglasses inside.”

“You wear your sunglasses inside Costco?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. 

“Sometimes I just forget to take them off when I walk from my car into the store!” You say defensively. “It’s really bright in there, sue me.”

“No, no, I think it’s cute,” Seokjin assures you. “Maybe being recognized by the Dunkin’ employees won’t be that bad. At least they probably wouldn’t know who I was if I had my sunglasses on.”

“I’m being attacked, I’m pretty sure,” you say pointedly. 

“Only affectionately. You’re still ridiculously endearing.” Seokjin says with a chuckle, smiling at you as Jungkook calls your name to tell him something about Kingdom that he’s forgotten. But even as Seokjin gets tugged into another conversation and you get pulled into your own, your brain can’t help but replay the sound of his voice in your head, over and over. 

You’re still ridiculously endearing.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin asks over a mouthful of complimentary bread with olive oil. “Did you ever figure out who knocked Y/N from the top spot in Kingdom?”

“No,” Jungkook cries out, suddenly thirsty for justice. “It makes me so mad that I don’t know who they are, especially since they’re getting all the in-game brand deals and Y/N gets nothing,” he says pointedly as he motions to you, clearly exasperated for a cause that wasn’t even his to begin with. 

“Jungkook, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a game,” you remind him, the table too wide to reach over and pat his hand comfortingly. “I still get a lot of things in second place.”

“What’s Jungkook talking about?” Seokjin asks, motioning to where Jungkook seems to be on a rampage as Jimin and Namjoon listen in. 

“Oh, Kingdom, like always,” you say fondly. “He’s determined to figure out the name of the person who dethroned me.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. “He’s got his work cut out for him. How many people play Kingdom?”

“Hundreds of thousands, probably,” you say. “Maybe millions.”

“Millions of people, and somehow we ended up with the second-best player in the game right at this table,” Seokjin says with a grin. “We should be honored.”

“It’s just a game,” you remind him, even though the sentiment is awfully sweet. “I think I much prefer the real world, don’t you?”

Seokjin smiles at you as the waiter comes around to offer him another cocktail. 

“Another one, sir?”

Seokjin looks down at the cocktail, then at your unstained clothes, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.” The waiter nods, taking his empty glass and moving onto another coworker. He looks at you, and his eyes are swimming in stars. “I think that I do, too.”

Dinner ends with Hoseok and Jungkook gobbling down everybody’s leftovers, your boss paying the bill without even glancing at the check, and you laughing alongside Seokjin, who keeps your end of the table entertained with fantastic stories about his past job at a luxury department store and less-than-fantastic dad jokes that he prides himself for coming up with on the spot. 

Taehyung had nudged you when the entrees had come around, motioning to the vent above your head, but you hadn’t even noticed the cold. 

“Ugh,” Jimin says with a groan as the group of you head outside once everyone is finished, the chilly night air hitting your skin as you open the door. “I hate that we could only schedule this for a Wednesday, because it means we have to come into work again tomorrow.”

“When else are we supposed to schedule it for?” Yoongi asks with a frown. “Did you even look at the When2Meet? Nobody had any free time for the rest of the month.”

“Well, if everyone’s cleared their schedules just for this dinner, anyone want to keep the celebration going at my apartment? I just bought a box of wine from Trader Joe’s,” Jimin asks. 

“On a Wednesday?” Yoongi says, nose scrunched up in disapproval. 

“Yeah, when else would you drink boxed Trader Joe’s wine?” Jimin responds like it’s obvious. 

Everyone begins to either disperse back to their cars or get Jimin’s address so they can get wine drunk on a Wednesday like you’re supposed to, leaving you and Seokjin out of the crowd. 

“Are you heading over to Jimin’s?” He asks you as you begin to walk towards your cars, taking a step every five seconds as you watch Jimin tell everybody his exact address, loudly and slowly enough for any burglars and axe-wielding murderers within a three-mile radius to also hear him. 

“No, I think I’ll just head home for the night,” you say, checking the time on your phone. It’s nearly ten, already. Where did the time go?

“Ah, then I guess I will, too,” Seokjin says. “Oh, here’s my car.”

“You parked close,” you comment. 

“I thought that I’d be late because I arrived at 6:45, but I was the second one here,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh. 

“Sounds like our office, doesn’t it?”

“I guess. We’ll have to do this again sometime just to see how late everyone shows up,” Seokjin says. 

“Promise I’ll be early next time,” you say. 

“Next time, then?” Seokjin asks, already opening his car door and beginning to step inside. You stand on the sidewalk in front of him, watching as he pulls the door shut and waves to you through the windshield. A next time sounds awfully nice. 

“Next time.”

♚ THERE ♚

The King and Queen never do find out about your truancy, though you have to admit, you were never really worried about that in the first place. Not when J was grinning as he told you he had sent the messenger guard off, laughing as he dragged you through the forest, smiling as he twirled a buttercup between his fingers. He had done it before and he’ll do it again, and look where that’s gotten him. 

Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him. 

Still, despite your high ranks, the two of you can’t avoid your responsibilities forever. Eventually, you will always have to report back to the castle, get a new assignment, and start the cycle all over again. 

“At least they’re letting us go together,” J reasons as the two of you nod to the knights standing guard at the border of the kingdom, by the main forest that leads directly to a kingdom with whom your relationship isn’t all that strong. No wars have broken out between your two lands in years, but never has stability been one-hundred percent earned, which means that both kingdoms must be on high alert. You never know when a rebel group will attempt to invade the land. 

“Like I’d want to spend any more time with you,” you joke, giving J a nudge in the side as you stroll along the forest edge. In the middle of the day with the sun high above your heads, neither of you are particularly worried about being attacked. It would be foolish for an enemy group to do so, especially at a time when the kingdom’s guards are the most awake. 

“Am I really such awful company?” J asks, and he’s smiling but he asks in such a way, it’s almost as if he means it. The two of you have never been on the best of terms, but you’ve found yourself growing out of the competition-fueled rage you once always found yourself in whenever you were near him. No longer is regaining your first place your most important priority. Rather, it’s doing your job and doing it correctly, upholding the duties that the kingdom has entrusted you with, regardless of who’s by your side. 

(Though, even if you’d never admit it, J makes quite good company, most of the time.)

“No,” you insist, a hand reaching out to rub comfortingly at his forearm. “You aren’t.”

“You think so?” J says with a laugh, almost bitter. “I must say, you’ve never been that fond of me.”

“You may have charmed your way into the rest of the kingdom’s hearts, but I needed some convincing,” you remind him, reminiscent of how he would tease you constantly, dangle his promotion right above your head like a trophy you’d never be able to reach. 

“Did I do a good job, then?” J asks, hands in his pockets. It’s a quiet day, today. Even the birds have begun to murmur. 

“You did quite alright,” you say, nudging him. “Though I must say, I absolutely hate how all of the vendor’s daughters fawn all over you and give you free items like fruit, and jewelry. I’m never given that treatment.”

“You just don’t have my naturally charming, handsome, soft looks,” J says, posing in front of you as the two of you walk. The obnoxiousness of it all makes you almost want to chuck the apple you’re about to eat right at his face. 

“What do you mean? I can be charming,” you say with a pout. You pretend to flip your hair, just for emphasis. 

“You and I are different types of charming,” J says casually. “You’re strong. You speak loudly and clearly and you don’t ever flounder. You always know exactly what you want, and know the best way to get it. You aren’t afraid of anything, and are always willing to take on any challenge that comes your way. It’s… it’s different.”

And even if he thinks you never flounder, never stumble over your words or stutter, for once, you can’t think of anything to say. You’re walking along the forest’s edge with a knight you had convinced yourself that you would never befriend, and he’s just told you all of these wonderful things about yourself you never would have known he’d thought otherwise. 

J’s right. It is different. This is different. And you can hardly remember when it started to be like this. Only one day, it was just like this, and it never stopped. 

“Do you really think all of those things about me?” You ask, staring down at your boots as you walk along the dirt path, kicking small pebbles as you go. They go flying off into the grass, never to be seen again. But sometimes, you come across one you had kicked a few steps back, and you try again, earnestly hoping to see how far it will go with you by its side. 

“I mean, well…” J says, stumbling. “I don’t just think those things about you, you know? They’re facts, aren’t they? Those are things that, well, I suppose, everyone would think about you. Right?”

“You know what I think?” You ask, looking up at him. His dark hair shimmers in the light, like reflects of gold have been sprinkled amongst the ink black. “We are different types of charming. You’re charismatic and friendly, always willing to listen. You accept things graciously and are always grateful for what you receive. You pay people back whatever they’ve given you, even if it’s not the same item, even if it’s just the thought that counts. You always want to do better, and then you do. You work hard for each thing you get, and you never take it for granted.”

J grins down at you. “But you don’t actually think that, do you?”

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “Just facts.”

“Just facts,” he echoes. 

When did talking to him become so easy? When did it all start coming to you naturally?

“Did you ever hate me?” He asks you, curious. He knows, he must, that that’s not the case anymore. 

“No,” you admit, perhaps more to yourself than to him. “I think that I just hated that you were better than me. But… like you said, it’s different now. Now, I don’t care if you’re better than me. That sort of competition makes me a better soldier. You make me a better soldier.”

“Really?” J wonders, genuine. His eyes are wide in surprise, shocked at such a candid admission coming from you. To be honest, you’re surprised with yourself, as well. “I had no idea.”

“Keep it up, then. You know—”

A taut string let go. 

The wind stopping in its tracks. 

And an arrow headed right for your heart. 

“Oh my God!” You shout quickly, unable to do much except alert the man next to you that the two of you are in imminent danger. 

Before you can even blink, close your eyes and wait for the tip to pierce your heart, J is pushing you out of the way, sending you flying to the forest floor and he pulls his bow from his back, sending a steel arrow flying in the direction of the woods. You both wait there, only a second but it’s a second too long, until you hear a thud on the ground, a final breath, and then—

Silence. 

The moment you’re both positive the assailant is dead, J turns to you, eyes wide. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” you assure him, telling him (and yourself) over and over as he pulls you up from the ground. Your heart is racing and you can’t quite seem to catch your breath, but you’re alive and so is he, and that’s all that matters. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he immediately says. “As long as you are.”

You look behind him to find an arrow stuck in a tree, but what alarms you more is the sight of blood on the tip. Immediately, you turn back to J, only to find the side of his arm covered in blood, bleeding right through his armor.

“Oh my God, J, you’re hurt,” you cry out, fumbling for something to stop the flow.

“I’m alright, Y/N, really,” he insists, placing a hand on top of your own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb for good measure. “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

“We have to take you back to the kingdom,” you push, already beginning to head back towards the gate. 

“I’ve suffered worse injuries, Y/N, seriously,” he tells you, hoping to ease the pit of worry in your stomach. “I’m a top-ranked knight who prefers the battlefield over anything else. I’ve broken bones, gotten stabbed, and nearly died. This? It’s nothing. Really. Please, don’t worry.”

“We still have to get you back to the Kingdom and patch you up,” you insist firmly. “Even if you say you’re alright.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Y/N.” J goes with you obligingly, lets you walk him back to the kingdom gates. 

You urge him into the local medical practitioner, sit him down on the bench and watch as the doctor bandages his wound, reminds him not to engage in any strenuous activity while it’s healing. He sits patiently, glaring at you slightly and rolling his eyes any time the doctor speaks, which is fairly frequently. It’s clear only one of you wants to be here right now, and it’s the one of you without a scratch on your body. 

When the doctor leaves to tend to another patient, you get up from where you’re seated and sit down next to him on the bench, resting your head on his shoulder. 

Working for the Kingdom makes you stronger. Sitting in the cafe makes you think. But being with him, standing by his side, it makes you wonder. It makes your heart race and your mind clear. It makes you feel safe. 

“I think you saved my life,” you whisper softly, clutching onto him like a lifeline, like if you let go, one of you will drown. 

But that’s not the case. Neither of you will let go. Not without the other. Never without the other. 

“Really?” He asks. He already knows the answer. 

“No, I know you did,” you tell him. Things are different now, but maybe they’ve always been like this. You just never noticed. “Because in a heartbeat, I would do the same for you.”

♚ HERE ♚

“I have not seen Seokjin all day,” Jimin comments loudly one day, making everyone immediately turn to Seokjins’ desk, which looks practically untouched. His computer is asleep, his chair is pushed in, and his desktop is empty. The only thing that suggests that the man is even here in the first place is the messenger bag resting against the desk drawers, though it doesn’t look like it’s even been opened today. 

“Probably too busy avoiding you,” Yoongi deadpans, earning a “zing!” from Hoseok that makes you feel even more like you’re standing in the middle of a high school movie made by people who don’t know what high school is like. 

“Is he even in today?” 

“He is,” you pipe up. “His bag is here.”

“Of course you would know!” Taehyung teases, and he earns a highlighter to the face for his trouble. 

“He’s probably just trying to get his work done in a place that doesn’t consist of screaming and constant insults being hurled across the room,” Jimin says with a sigh, turning back to his work. It’s a fair statement, especially when the environment in your office is most often distracting, loud, and not at all an ideal work environment. It’s an absolute wonder that any of you manage to get your work done while you’re here. 

“Y/N, wanna go hunt him down?” Taehyung suggests, sending a wink your way as your eyes widen. 

“No, absolutely not, no way. I will not be tricked by you again,” you say, very reminiscent of the last time you went to go look for Seokjin and ended up with a coffee-stained shirt and a group of coworkers who thinks the two of you hooked up that one time. 

“If you say so…” Taehyung says, voice trailing off as he turns back to his work. 

But for once in your life, Seokjin’s absence is more noticeable than ever. He’s become a fixture in your everyday office life, always stopping by your desk with a second cup of low-grade office coffee for you (with a lid, of course), sending you emails complaining about Jimin and Hoseok when they’re being loud, asking you for help on every one of his difficult font decisions for logo designs, drafting emails to clients with you. It’s a sort of closeness that you never really had before—sure, you worked together and often got paired up for projects, but it’s different now. Like you jumped ship on being just colleagues but instead of drowning, you began to float.

Five more minutes pass and you pretty much resign yourself to getting back to your work, knowing that Seokjin’s probably just grabbed his laptop and found a place where he can work in peace and quiet without Hoseok’s shrill voice interrupting his thoughts. You’ll have to ask him what place he’s discovered. 

When there are four minutes left in the workweek and you are finally beginning to close out of the fifteen thousand tabs open on your Google Chrome window, the door busts open. 

It doesn’t actually bust open, so much as Seokjin comes flying through it and it slowly goes to rest on the padded door frame like it’s been designed to. His tie is loose around his neck like he’s been tugging on it all afternoon, his laptop is clenched carefully between his arm and his torso, and he’s got a flurry of papers freeballing it in a stack in his hands. 

“Oh my God, what tornado did you come from?” Jimin asks as Seokjin rushes over to his desk, cramming everything into his tiny messenger bag that definitely isn’t meant to fit a laptop and a stack of papers that thick. 

“Sehun just dumped an entire project on me that’s due on Sunday at noon with no warning, and now I have to pull together fragments of a crumbling magazine label before their final review on Sunday afternoon,” he says, terribly out of breath. He’s scrambling to gather his belongings, crashing into anything within a two-foot radius of him. 

“Dude, what the heck? I’m gonna tell Namjoon to kick Sehun’s ass,” Hoseok says with a frown, nose scrunched up. “Do you need help?”

“No, no, I’m alright, I can do it,” Seokjin insists, rubbing a hand through his hair as he leaves before the clock has even struck five. 

“Are you sure? You look like you want to jump out of the window,” Hoseok asks again, just for clarification. He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Seokjin become so stressed in such a short period of time before. “At least let one of us help you get settled back into your apartment.”

To your right, Taehyung whispers into Jungkook’s ear, who then does this sort of weird hand movement to Hoseok, who nods understandingly. It looks suspiciously like they just plotted someone’s murder. 

“I can’t,” Jungkook says with an obnoxiously fake yawn, suddenly speaking much slower than usual, “I’m deadbeat tired.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung says, coughing in the way people do when they just want to get out of something. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

You whip your head around as everyone besides Yoongi comes up with an absolutely bullshit excuse not to accompany Seokjin to his apartment—Jimin says he has a date right after work and Hoseok says he needs to feed his puppy before he gets too hungry, leaving only you and a Yoongi that hasn’t been listening to the conversation whatsoever to vie for the spot. 

“Yoongi?” You ask, somewhat desperate not to be the one to accompany Seokjin to his apartment. You turn to your head to glare at Taehyung, who shamelessly coughs again when he meets your eyes, smiling guiltily. 

“Huh?” He asks, turning around. 

“Fine, you know what? I can come with,” you say with a sigh, already grabbing your belongings as Taehyung and Jungkook high-five next to you. 

“Oh, really? You’re a lifesaver, Y/N, you know that?” Seokjin says, and even when he’s stressed it’s like the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders once you volunteer, and you suppose that there are worse things that can happen than accompanying Seokjin to his apartment for ten minutes. 

Seokjin gives you the address of his place so that you can drive to it yourself, the both of you pulling into the parking garage underneath his apartment complex at the same time, waving to each other from adjacent parking spaces. 

“I really, really appreciate this, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a smile as he brings you into his apartment complex, nodding a friendly hello to the security officer in the lobby. “I know that it’s a Friday night and everything as well. You’d probably want to be doing something else.”

“Ah, yes, you know me, I frequent all of the clubs and bars in this city,” you say sarcastically as you walk into the elevator. Seokjin hits the button for the seventh floor and laughs. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. It was a dick move of Sehun to drop this on you when it’s due in, like, thirty-six hours.”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin says, exasperated as he leans back against the steel walls of the elevator. “I thought I would just get to go home this Friday night, pull up Netflix, and have a one-man movie night, but now I have to spend the next thirty-six hours doing this.”

“Well, you know all of us are just looking out for you, wanted to make sure you didn’t injure yourself from stress before you got back to your apartment,” you say as the elevator door dings. Seokjin leads you down the hallway to his door, sticking his key in and jiggling it until the door pops open. 

Admittedly, you have never been in Seokjin’s apartment, but you it was like you had already painted a picture of it in your head from his personality traits alone. You thought it would be fairly minimalistic, clean and neat, not too many flashy colors or kitschy items but things like photographs and magnets to make it feel like an office and more like a home. Pictured it as a sort of very simple, modern home, like the ones that celebrities live in because they can afford to keep their belongings clean all the time, because Seokjin looks exactly like a celebrity, gorgeous and put-together. 

Instead, Seokjin’s apartment is almost a hodgepodge of everything he could think to find to decorate, a stack of photobooks on his coffee table, slouchy leather couches wrinkled from wear, various kitchen supplies splayed all over his countertops. It’s the kind of place you can imagine him being in, existing in. You can see him standing behind his kitchen island with all of the ingredients and supplies for this wonderful dish he’s making littered across the counters. You can see him curled up on the couch, leaning against the corner of it to find that perfect spot, watching television. 

There’s a difference between owning a place, and living in it. Living in it makes it feels like a home, like it’s real, and not just for show. 

“Wow, your place is—”

“It’s really messy right now, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests,” Seokjin says, letting his messenger bag plop down on the ground as he scrambles to make his living space nicer for you. 

“No, I was going to say it’s lovely,” you tell him. “It feels exactly like you.”

“Does it?” Seokjin asks genuinely, a soft smile lacing his features. “Well then, thank you.”

You wait around in his apartment awkwardly, not really sure if stepping past the front of his couch is socially acceptable since you’re just “visiting” and he hasn’t officially invited you inside yet. The main objective of accompanying him to his apartment has already been accomplished: you made sure he got home safely and that he can do his work in peace. Finished. But even still, you’re hanging around, wondering when he’s going to kick you out for being a weird, unknown fixture in his home. 

“Um, would you like to stay for dinner? I made soup last night and I have way too much for me to eat on my own,” he offers, opening up his fridge and taking out an enormous pot. It clinks as it hits his countertop, the metal sound echoing throughout his apartment. 

“No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say, taking this as your cue to remove yourself from the situation before you do anything else to make an absolute fool of yourself. 

“I insist, please,” Seokjin says, stopping you in your tracks. “I may have a whole project to finish by Sunday, but we should at least spend this Friday night together, right?”

You look down at your shoes before looking up at him, meeting his eyes from where he stands behind his counter island. 

“Then I will,” you say, removing your flats and padding over to where he stands, coming to a stop on the other side of the counter island. “But only if you let me help you with the project, too. It was asshole-y of Sehun to dump it all on you. At least let me handle some of the graphic aspects.”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching his hand out over the counter, “you have a deal.”

This deal mainly consists of you eating some of Seokjin’s homemade soup on his couches, your laptops on his coffee table and that ridiculously thick stack of papers spread out amongst you. Seokjin already has a fair bit of information about the project at hand, but he still has absolutely zero progress since he received the assignment four minutes before the end of the workweek. 

“So, basically, what we have to do is re-organize the magazine’s overall design and aesthetic before their final review on Sunday, because if they don’t appeal to the publisher, they’re getting tanked,” Seokjin says, paging through the papers in search of a sketch. 

“So we’re their last hope,” you summarize. 

Seokjin nods. “We’re their last hope.”

“Great,” you say, not at all enthused. “No pressure at all.”

“I know. I’m so relaxed right now,” Seokjin says, clearly not relaxed. 

“You know what’s making me relaxed? This soup,” you say, finishing the last of what’s in your bowl. “It’s delicious. I didn’t know you cooked.”

“It’s just a hobby of mine,” Seokjin says with a shrug. “I picked it up when I moved to college and didn’t know how to make anything except toast.”

“You’re a very fast learner, then,” you say. “I’d pay you to make all of my meals, honestly.”

“Would you like more? I have a ton, so we can eat it all if you’d like,” he asks, already standing up and reaching his hand out for your bowl. 

You hand it over, shaking your head as he makes his way back to his little kitchen, ladling more soup into both of your bowls. “You’re too nice, Seokjin. Seriously. How am I supposed to pay back this kindness?”

Seokjin lets out a warm chuckle as he warms up your next serving in the microwave. “Believe me, Y/N, volunteering to take on this project with me with a due date in less than thirty-six hours is more than enough. You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No,” you tell him. “I want to. You deserve someone who’s willing to help you with big things like this. You shouldn’t have to deal with it all on your own.”

Seokjin grins as he returns, handing you your bowl of soup as you get back to work. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

What was supposed to be a couple of hours spent grinding out a project over a shared pot of soup turns into a night’s worth of work, scribbles on paper and the redoing of the same logo fifteen different times on your computer’s much slower, less-updated version of Photoshop. The application crashes on three different occasions, causing you to nearly slam it into the wall, but you just try to look on the bright side. Find the silver lining. Of which there are none. 

Seokjin doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are. You’ve never seen the man under such pressure before, not in the office and certainly not while you’re out of the office. He’s tugged on a crewneck sweater over his dress shirt and paces around his apartment in bright pink slippers, brainstorming aloud as you bounce ideas off of each other in a panic. 

“What if we rebranded them?” Seokjin suggests wildly. When you turn to look at the digital clock underneath his television, it says 11:17PM. You’re surprised he hasn’t collapsed underneath the pile of work he’s got on his plate. 

“What do you mean? Do we even have the authorization to rebrand them?” You ask, pulling up a new tab on magazine marketing techniques. 

“The project description says requests for anything that will keep them afloat,” Seokjin says. He immediately opens an old photobook, buried underneath your laptops, sketches, and papers, flipping through before he sits down right next to you on his slouchy leather couch. “What if we gave them more of a minimalist kind of style? They’re trying to jump off of this super quirky, very basic Urban Outfitters kind of aesthetic, but I think it makes the magazine too young, you know?” Seokjin suggests. “We could do something more grown-up, attract their market audience.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” You ask, thoroughly interested. Maybe Seokjin’s onto something. 

“Who says we can’t?” Seokjin responds, and it’s good enough for you to hop on board. 

Sitting in his apartment like this, brainstorming different ideas and collaborating on logo designs, magazine layout, and website design together, you are more productive than you’ve been in a very, very long time. Even as the night stretches on into the early hours of the morning, as you watch the clock turn from 1:00AM to 2:00AM to 3:00AM, the two of you are wide awake, the only things illuminating his apartment being a floor lamp by his television and the blue light of your laptop screens. 

“It’s…” Seokjin yawns when it’s nearly four in the morning, pen slipping from his fingers, “so late.”

“I know,” you say back, feeling your eyelids beginning to sink. “I’m surprised we’ve even stayed up this long.”

“Haven’t been up this late since college,” Seokjin says, smiling hazily at past memories. “Always had code to finish for my class the next morning.”

“At least we get to sleep in now,” you joke. Even if you still have to finish putting together a brand new image for this magazine that’s about to go under, tomorrow is still a Saturday. 

“Thank God,” Seokjin says, resting his head on the back of the couch cushion, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I feel like we did a lot tonight.”

“We were very productive,” you agree.

He yawns. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” You ask, leaning over to move your computer from your lap to the coffee table, exchanging it for a sketchpad to keep brainstorming. 

“I think,” Seokjin begins, and it must be just the sleepy haze his brain has entered rather than anything else that could spur him to express this, that makes him say, “that you and I make a perfect pair.”

You sit up straight at this, looking over at Seokjin as the pencil in between your fingers falls onto the sketchpad before rolling onto the floor. It looks like he’s fallen asleep, exhaustion finally overcoming him as all of the work he’s done catches up to him. In the dead of night, the only sound in the room is his soft breathing, chest rising and falling slowly as his mind begins to wander. You watch him, eyelids heavy, and think that he couldn’t have possibly thought that. No way would he say such a thing to you if he was perfectly cognizant, wide awake. After all, you’re the one with a crush on him, not the other way around. 

You lean back, pondering why a man like Seokjin would ever invite you into his home, offer you soup, and shower you with subtle compliments that couldn’t just be friends being friends, and before you know it, your eyes fall shut. 

It is nearly one in the afternoon by the time you wake up, the sunlight streaming in from the side of his apartment. It forces you to finally open your eyes, groaning as your blurry vision begins to clear. 

That is when you register these four things in this order:

This is Seokjin’s apartment.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, in which you worked on a project with him last night.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and you fell asleep on his couch. 

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and he thinks that you’d make the perfect pair. 

You hear a clink from across the room, and turn to find Seokjin, still wearing the same thing he was wearing last night, standing in his kitchen, pouring two glasses of orange juice. 

“Morning,” Seokjin says. He pauses, then corrects himself. “Afternoon, actually.” He walks over to you, handing you a glass of orange juice as you rub your eyes, waking yourself up.

“How long have you been up?” You ask him, too tired to thank him out loud for the glass of orange juice. 

“About an hour,” he says, checking the time. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful.”

“I feel awful, I didn’t mean to intrude on your apartment for, like, an entire night,” you say, rubbing your forehead as you try to smooth out your hair, make yourself look less like you fell asleep at four in the morning in your gorgeous crush’s apartment. 

“No, it’s alright, really,” Seokjin insists. “It was nice having company, for once. And I think we got a lot done.”

“I still feel bad, I didn’t mean to stay so long,” you say, looking around for your belongings as you try to gather your bearings. 

“It’s fine,” Seokjin reassures you, sitting down on the couch next to you as he begins to clean up the absolute mess of the coffee table. “But your phone has been ringing nonstop, so someone must have missed you.”

You fumble around for your phone before finding it having slid in between the couch cushions, pulling it up to see three missed calls from Taehyung and two missed calls from Jungkook, as well as a slew of texts from the both of them. 

“Oh, it’s just Taehyung and Jungkook,” you say with a shrug, deciding that now is not the time to bring them into the conversation. A quick scan of the texts gives you a rough summary of what you would have heard if you had answered their calls instead. 

Taehyung (9:35AM): Y/N Taehyung (9:35AM): HELLO Taehyung (9:35AM): ARE YOU ALIVE??? Taehyung (9:36AM): YOU NEVER SLEEP THIS LATE ARE YOU OKAY??? Taehyung (10:03AM): I WENT BY YOUR APARTMENT AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT Taehyung (10:04AM): TEXT ME 1 IF EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND 2 IF EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY Taehyung (10:05AM): LAST TIME I SAW YOU YOU WERE GOING HOME WITH SEOKJIN DID HE MURDER YOU??????? Taehyung (10:18AM): oh Taehyung (10:18AM): oh wait Taehyung (10:19AM): OHHHHHHHHH Taehyung (10:20AM): ;)

Jungkook (12:18PM): Kingdom just started a new event! Get online with me and let’s crush this thing pleaseeeee

“Just want me to play Kingdom with them,” you say, ignoring Taehyung’s text messages and pretending like they don’t exist.

“You really like that game, don’t you?” Seokjin asks. 

“Oh, they like it more than I do, really, I just try and keep the obsession to a minimum,” you say casually. 

“But they always talk about how good you are,” Seokjin adds. “You’re ranked second, aren’t you? That’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that exciting. I mean, it’s just a game,” you shrug it off. 

“But you like it, which means that’s important,” Seokjin says. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of the things you like. They matter to you.”

“You think so?” You ask, smiling at him. 

“I know so. Tell me about Kingdom,” he urges, nudging your side. “Please? I’d love to know.”

And for once, you don’t just shrug it off and brand it as a game you play occasionally. You let yourself love that game, for all it’s done for you and your friends (even if you aren’t the best anymore) and your happiness, and you tell Seokjin about it. About how you started playing it when you were bored one day during work and saw a forum on it. How you got the rest of the office hooked on it as well, even if they were much more obnoxious about it than you are. How you go home after a long day of work and log on, letting yourself relax as you weave your way through the rankings and quests, finding solace in the familiarity of it all. You tell him why you love it, and why you probably won’t stop playing it for a long time, no matter what becomes of your ranking. 

“It was nice being ranked first, but I actually don’t mind whoever it is that’s taken over,” you tell Seokjin honestly. “Jungkook wants to hunt them down, but I think that, whoever they are, they deserve that spot. You know, I used to hate them because the top-ranked player gets all of the best rewards, but our characters have recently started to spend so much time together that I feel like they’d probably have fallen in love by now.” You chuckle to yourself. If life were a movie, everything would always work out perfectly.

“You do?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say. “They spend so much time together. Who wouldn’t, right?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Seokjin says, smiling. “I also have something to tell you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with anime, please. That is where I draw the line.”

“Don’t shame us,” Seokjin says, a hand on his heart like he’s been personally offended. Your eyes widen. “I’m kidding,” he says, laughing as you exhale, relieved. “I actually play Kingdom, too. I just wanted to ask you about it.”

“Seriously? All this time and you just pretended like you had no idea what it was?” you say in disbelief. He’s been hiding this from you for how long? God, the rest of your office is going to have a field day with this information. 

“I just wanted you to tell me about it,” Seokjin admits sheepishly. 

You shake your head. “You could have talked to me about other stuff, you know.”

“I know, but you never talked about Kingdom and I could always see how much you loved it. It was nice, listening to you tell me about it,” he says. 

“I’ve been betrayed,” you say dramatically, opening up your laptop to pull up the game. “What’s your ID? We can add each other.”

This is where Seokjin goes silent. “Actually, I think you might already know who I am. I’m above you in the rankings.”

Your mouth drops open. 

“You’re JK0901? Are you kidding me?” You ask, absolutely floored. All this time and you had no idea that Kim Seokjin was a Kingdom expert. “What does JK stand for? I was convinced it was Jungkook and he was just lying to my face, but in reality, it was you who was lying to me!”

Seokjin lets out a chuckle. “Jin Kim. I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out earlier.”

“I can’t believe this,” you say, practically speechless. “How long have you been playing?” 

“Not that long,” Seokjin shrugs. “I picked it up because I wanted to impress a girl I liked.”

“Really? All this effort for a girl you like?” You ask, still in disbelief. You suck up the way your heart is sinking at the thought of him liking another person, but then you remember that it wasn’t like you had ever made a move on him anyway. Smiling, you ask, “Will you at least humor me and tell me who it is?”

Then, Seokjin looks you dead in the eye, and says, “You.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he wraps a hand around your torso and pulls you into him, pressing his lips firmly on yours as you gasp into his mouth, body tensing up before you melt into his touch. 

It’s a quick kiss, nothing too crazy, but it overwhelms you nonetheless, leaves you gasping for air like you’ve been underwater this whole time and have finally surfaced. When you part, you look up into his eyes only to find that they’ve turned into crescents. He’s grinning down at you like he’s finally gotten it right. 

“You did all of that for me?” You ask. “How did you even know?”

Seokjin looks particularly guilty. “You’re not necessarily… that discreet, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, the heat already flaring in your cheeks. “Oh God, you knew?”

“It was fairly easy to figure out,” Seokjin admits. “But the good news is: I felt the same way. So, no harm done.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, curling into his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye. 

“You’re incredible, Y/N, you know that?” He asks, pulling you away from him just so he can get a better look at you. He’s standing in front of you, looking at you like this is what he’s been waiting for. Like all this time, he’s been waiting for you. “I’d do it all over again if it meant I could end up with you.”

“You would?” You ask, pulling him in for another kiss. There’s plenty more where those came from, but you’re already feeling greedy. Why wouldn’t you? If life was a movie, then wouldn’t this be the happy ending? 

“In a heartbeat.”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

[farfromtommy]

my sun and stars // dad!Tony Stark x daughter!reader

A/N: so I had originally written the beginning of this for nice to meet you but then I decided that it needed to be its own fic and omg did it happen. I cried basically the whole time. I hope you guys like it as much as I do. dad!Tony makes me soft. please let me know what you think!!!!

My requests are open! 

summary: Tony being the world’s best dad 

Warning: like 2 swear words, overwhelming fluff 

Word count: 2,918

masterlist 

Tony Stark had made his fair share of mistakes in his life. He’s human. But the one thing he knew he always did right was raising his daughter, Y/N. She was the light of his life. She made his life worth living. Y/N came into Tony’s life at a seemingly perfect time. Her presence in his home pulled him out of his “playboy” ways and into his new role as a dad. 

Her mother, knowing the lifestyle of Tony, decided that she didn’t want to be connected to him in anyway. Giving up her daughter was the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life, but it was best thing she could’ve done for everyone involved. She even left giving her a name up to Tony, knowing very well if she gave her a name it would make it that much harder to give her to her dad. 

When Tony first saw himself in this tiny human, his entire life changed. A switched was flipped inside him and he was taking fatherhood by the horns and “making it his bitch”, as he confidently stated to Happy. He looked at everything her mother had left in a folder. Her birth certificate only had one name on it, and it was his. She didn’t have an identity. Her mother had refused to put her name on the certificate, cutting every tie to her newborn possible. 

Tony looked back at Y/N as she was staring back at him with her big beautiful eyes. She looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world, and he looked at her the same way.  He intended to keep that look on her face for as long as he could. Because at that moment in time, Tony knew that his world no longer revolved around himself. She was his sun.  

Tony had his very first taste of parenthood just a few short minutes after meeting Y/N. She had completely soiled her diaper and the onesie she was wearing. He had never once changed a diaper. Luckily, Y/N’s mother had left a few diapers in a bag for Tony so he wasn’t completely screwed. After a couple of failed attempts and minutes of his daughter screeching, she was all cleaned up and fast asleep in his arms. 

As he was holding her, he was ordering every single thing necessary for a baby. After some time online shopping and a couple thousand dollars later, he had everything he could possibly need and more. The one thing he was most excited about was the baby sling. He would put it on himself so he could carry Y/N hands free. He could already see her sleeping peacefully on his chest while he is whirring around creating his next big invention. 

Everything had been delivered and was on its way to being set up. Tony had set Happy our for bottles and formula while he was busy shopping for baby clothes and accessories. By the time Happy returned and helped Tony feed and get Y/N back to sleep, they were setting up all of the new furniture in Tony’s extravagant master bedroom. 

He had her crib against the wall right next to his bed, the rocking chair tucked in the corner, and the changing table that doubled as a dresser pushed against the wall next to her crib. He had a new rug across the floor by the entire baby section of his room. 

The juxtaposition of his things and Y/N’s things was truly a sight to see. 

He had boxes littered across his room. Some filled with clothes, some filled with diapers and wipes. As he was putting some of her clothes in the dresser, he heard her start to whimper from her crib. 

He finished folding the onesie he had in his hands and walked over to the crib. She then started to cry and he quickly picked her up and started soothing her to try and get her to calm down. He looked over at his clocked and it read 12:43 am. 

“I bet you’re hungry my little love, let’s go get you some food.” he quietly said to her and continued to soothe her as they went to the kitchen together. He made a bottle for her and as soon as it was ready he gave it to her and she immediately took to it. He walked back into his room and sat on the rocking chair as she quickly finished her bottle. 

He brought her up to his shoulders to burp her and pat her back softly. He had been reading parenting blogs and forums while she was sleeping so he could try and figure out everything he needed to do as a new parent. 

He was so overwhelmed with all this new information flooding into his brain, he thought it would explode. He was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and was Iron Man, surely he could figure this parenting thing out. 

One of the things he had read about was skin to skin contact. It was usually done between mother and child during breastfeeding, but fathers also did it to create a bond with their child. Tony carefully stood up and placed Y/N on the changing table to take her white onesie off. He lifted his own shirt off and tossed it haphazardly on the floor. He picked Y/N up again and made his way back to the rocking chair. 

He put his legs up on the ottoman and leaned back, bringing Y/N’s head up to where his heart is and let her lay on his chest. Her tiny fingers grazed the metal of the arc reactor placed in the middle of his chest and he just watched every move she made. His big hands holding her body so she wouldn’t slip off brought so much comfort to the both of them. 

Eventually both Tony and Y/N fell asleep in that position. Both of them exhausted from the long day they had. A couple hours later Tony was woken up by Y/N stirring on his chest. He woke up slowly and looked at the clock again. 3:12 am. Y/N was hungry again and by the smell of it, desperately needed a diaper change. He changed her diaper quickly and once again, grabbed another bottle for her. Although he was tired and wanted to sleep for an eternity. He was the only person able to do this for her. 

He was her person. 

And she was surely enough becoming his. 

He was taking to this dad thing really well. He never knew he could love a tiny human as much as he loved Y/N. She was everything to him. 

Weeks had gone by and Tony and Y/N were absolutely inseparable. Tony had taken time off of work to adjust to his new life as a father and to have this time to really bond with Y/N. They had finally gotten a schedule down that worked for them. Tony took time to work a little bit while she was asleep so his company didn’t completely fall apart. But as soon as he saw her start to wake up through the baby monitor he had made, he stopped everything and rushed to her side. 

Tony was strongly considering taking his technology to the baby market, because he was absolutely killing it with his new creations for Y/N. Somehow he was able to make things just a little bit easier for him. He had even considered creating a robot nanny but figured that probably wouldn’t end well. 

At 11 months old Y/N was completely killing it at the baby game. She was starting to let go of things as she was starting to walk, she had said her first word, which was obviously ‘dada’, and with everything she did she made her dad proud beyond words. 

Tony couldn’t believe it’s been almost a whole year since Y/N came into his life and he would cry if he thought about it too long. After a few months of working from home Tony had returned to work full time. He did not want to leave Y/N with a nanny, he didn’t trust anyone with his precious daughter. Before he returned to work he had created a space in his office dedicated to Y/N. 

He had a play pen which doubled as crib and dozens of toys and books for her to entertain herself with as her dad worked. The system he had made for taking care of his daughter while also running Stark Industries was one that was hard to perfect, but once he did, it was like clockwork. 

Y/N had taken to his assistant, Pepper, really well. She was there for Y/N when Tony wasn’t available at that exact moment in time. Pepper would often interrupt Tony’s meetings, much to the dismay of the executives in the room with him. She would give her off to Tony and the cries of the toddler would immediately subside, as she was in the arms of her person. Tony would continue the meeting on with Y/N attached to him. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and one of his arms supporting her, and the other gesturing towards whatever he was talking about. 

Sometimes he would even bring the baby carrier in and would have you strapped to his chest as he was working so his mobility wasn’t affected. It was such a normal thing to see Tony walking around the building with his daughter strapped to his chest, people stopped staring in confusion and just kept going with their day. 

Celebrating the 1st birthday of his daughter was maybe one of the most bittersweet days of Tony’s life. He loved being able to raise such an amazing human being, but hated seeing her grow up before his own eyes. She had changed so much in the year she had been on this earth. Tony had thrown the most extravagant 1 year olds birthday planet in the history of time. 

Tony smiled the most amazing smile as he heard everyone sing happy birthday to his daughter, and he held her as they both blew out the candles to her cake. Y/N had absolutely no idea what was happening but the noise and excitement just made her bubble. Tony helped Y/N destroy her piece of cake as she was mostly getting it all over her face and body. 

He looked at her fondly as she continued to smear frosting all over herself. Tony wanting the time with his baby back. He missed being able to hold her in the crook of his arm while she ate. She had such an amazing future ahead of her and he was ready for the ride. 

Y/N started school at the age of 4, going on 5.  Tony had decided to put her into public school to give her the best shot at a normal life. She was already so ahead of her grade level and was surpassing the learning expectations of a 4 year old. Dropping her off at school every morning broke his heart so much. But he loved seeing her face light up every time she saw one of her friends on her way to class. 

He always dropped her off at the door of her classroom and gave her a hug and kiss before he left for work. He was there every day to pick her up so she could tell him all about her day before she forgot what happened. She always went on and on about the things she did with her best friend Peter (:D) did in class. She talked about what she learned about and the books she read. He loved hearing about her day, it was one of the greatest parts of his day. 

They drove back to Tony’s office and walked through the doors hand in hand. Y/N greeted everyone she saw, knowing most of their names. She always ran up to Pepper and wrapped her tiny arms around her neck as Pepper bent down to give her a hug. Tony always took time to help Y/N with her homework when they got back. 

After they finished whatever homework she had for the day, Tony went back to work and Y/N stayed in his office in the corner dedicated to her. She had a tiny table and a chair so she could sit and draw or color, a bookshelf with tons of books that she loved to read, and anything else that could entertain a 4 year old for a few hours. 

“It’s time to go home little love. Go grab all your things and say goodbye to Pepper.” Tony said to Y/N walking into his office. “Okay daddy.” Y/N said grabbing her backpack from the floor and racing out the door to say bye to Pepper. Tony grabbed everything he needed and walked out of his office to get Y/N from Pepper’s desk. 

This time Tony carried Y/N out of the building as she said she was too tired to walk and wanted her dad to carry her out. Tony could never say no to her. They walked out to Tony’s car and he buckled her into her car seat as she was slowly falling asleep. 

Tony had felt a presence come up behind him and he was quick to react by secretly putting on his Iron Man blasters, ready to fight off whoever was trying to sneak up on him. He quickly turned around shutting the door, shielding his daughter from whatever was going to happen. 

He was met with the face of Nick Fury. “I’m not gonna hurt you Tony, or your daughter. Just wanted to have a chat with you.” Fury said, walking closer to Tony. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.” Tony shut down his blasters and walked around to the drivers side. He opened his side and got in. Starting the engine and wanting to drive away. Fury knocked on the window of his car, Tony rolled his eyes and opened the window. 

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re trying to talk me into.” Tony repeated himself. 

“I just want to talk to you about an idea I have. It’s called the Avenger initiative Take a look.” Fury tossed a file down on the passenger seat of Tony’s car. He sighed and grabbed the file and flipped through it. 

“Looks like you got it all figured out. What do you need me for?” He said handing the file back to Fury.

 “I want you to take control of it, need be. You have the capability to and I don’t know anyone else who is better equipped to take point on this. Just think about it and get back to me.” Fury tapped on the top of the car and walked away. 

Tony sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at his sleeping daughter in the backseat, completely unaware of what just happened. A small smile came to his face as he continued to look at her. He knew what Fury wanted him to do wasn’t easy and could put him in harms way. But if it was something he needed to do to keep you safe from everything that would want to hurt you, he would do it. He has promised you from day 1 that he would do everything in his power to make sure you were always safe. He wanted to make the world perfect for his sweet angel, and didn’t know where to start. 

This seemed like a place to start, and it fell right into his seat. He got out of his car and looked towards the direction Fury walked in and yelled out to him. 

“I’m in, Fury. Send me everything you have on this and I’ll take a look.” He shouted. 

Fury turned around and shot him a thumbs up and turned back around, walking towards his car. 

“I have one condition, though.” Tony shouted. Fury stopped walking and turned around slowly. 

“And what might that be?” He questioned. 

“If I’m gonna work with you on this, you keep her out of every record you have on me. I don’t want her in any database. It’s like she doesn’t exist to S.H.I.E.L.D. If anyone asks about her, you don’t know. No one knows. That is my only condition.” He said, looking at Y/N sleeping through the window. 

Fury nodded at him and got into his car. Tony did the same and started his drive back home. 

For the past 10 years Y/N and Tony have been working side by side. A few years after Fury approached Tony about the Avenger Initiative, it was activated and was in full swing. Everyone involved have had their fair share of battles the past few years. 

Now at the age of 15, Y/N works with her dad developing new and improved technology for the whole team. She was probably the smartest 15 year old on the planet. Tony had built the Avengers compound in upstate New York, where you both lived along side the Avengers. 

Everyone there quickly became like family and Y/N absolutely loved it. Her entire life had been just her and Tony in his big mansion, even with the frequent visits from Pepper and Happy, it still got lonely. 

Now with a team of superheroes in her living room, there was never a chance to be lonely. 

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Five: Daisy Darling

Forever? Masterlist

Ashley wasn’t keen on the sticky and sweaty British summer, and it wasn’t much easier being thirty four weeks pregnant. Her regular scans had shown that the baby was developing at a more regular rate, she was still smaller than average, but she was a healthier size now. Ashley only had three weeks left at work before her maternity leave started, she was pretty much prepared, Harry had helped her put the cot together before he left for filming in France, which was an absolute relief. She was spending her Tuesday morning the way she did every week, eating her way through a packet of biscuits, with the help of Toby and Roman when he walked past her desk of course. “Ro! please save me from myself, finish these biscuits off please! I beg you!” Ashley called across the office as she noticed Roman leaving the studio. 

He made his way over to her desk, “Okay if you insist,” He took the biscuits from her, and began munching on one, “Do you fancy a brew?”

“Alright then, I’ll come with you actually.” She stood up from her desk and waddled over to the small office kitchen. 

As she leant against the counter in the kitchen Ashley felt a sharp pain in her stomach, she winced gripping onto the counter. “You alright?” Roman asked, pouring milk into their mugs.

“Yeah it’s probably just braxton hicks,” she assured him, but then she felt a pop, that told her these weren’t just braxton hicks, “Oh shit Ro, I think the baby’s coming.” 

“Oh God, what do you want me to do? Shall I call Harry?” He flustered, dropping the teaspoon on the floor in panic.

“No, he’s in France filming, it’ll only worry him,” she whispered, breathing through the pain, “My phones on my desk, I need you to call Gemma and tell her to meet me at St Thomas hospital, and ask if she can get my hospital bag on the way.” Roman ran off to her desk trying to find her phone and gather her things, she started panicking remembering that the doctors said it was extremely important for her to get as close to full term as possible. She began to tear up thinking about how Harry wouldn’t be there, they both knew there was a chance he wouldn’t be there, but he was meant to be on a filming break in the week of her due date, but this wasn’t what either of them had expected, “I’ve got your stuff, I’m going to drive you, I don’t want you getting a cab by yourself, Gemma’s going to meet us at the hospital.”

The journey to the hospital felt like a lifetime, as Roman pulled into the drop off point, she saw Gemma waiting armed with a wheelchair and her baby bag. Roman jumped out the car, helping Ashley out of the car and into the wheelchair, he exchanged thank yous with Gemma, wished Ashley well and left the two of them to find their way to maternity. “I’m scared Gem,” Ashley whispered to her.

“Hey, we’re going to be strong together aren’t we? We’re going to get through this, us three girls.” Gemma assured her as she wheeled her into maternity.

“You two alright there?” A passing midwife asked.

“Her waters have broken, she’s thirty four weeks, she was at work when it happened so this isn’t the hospital she’d usually be at, that’s alright isn’t it?” Gemma replied on Ashley’s behalf.

“That should be absolutely fine, we’ll have someone send your notes over, right let’s get this show on the road.”

Ashley has been changed into a gown and was now lying on a hospital bed, waiting for the midwife whilst she breathed through her next contraction. “Hello, I’m Dr Stevenson, I’ve been sent your notes from your usual hospital and I’m aware the baby is a little smaller than we’d like.” the Doctor explained as she entered the room, “I've spoken to Maggie the midwife who checked you over and she said baby is breech, meaning she’s foot first, and due to her size we think it’s best to do an emergency cesarean section, we don’t want to put her through the stress of natural labour.” 

“Is she going to be okay?” Ashley asked.

“Trust me, this is the best thing for both of you to keep you both safe, the nurses will be along soon to prep you for theatre.” Dr Stevenson explained before leaving her be.

“It’s happening Gem, it’s really happening, she sighed.

“Do you want me to call Harry?” Gemma asked.

“No, I’ll tell him when she’s here.”

Ashley lay on the operating table, Gemma sat beside her, wearing scrubs as she stroked her hand through Ashley’s hair. The surgeon had made the first incision and was doing her very best to keep the baby safe. “Not long now Ashley, we’ll have her out soon.” Dr Stevenson assured her, “She’s here, we’ve got her.” Dr Stevenson held up the tiny baby, cutting the umbilical cord and taking her over to the side.

“She’s not crying, she’s meant to be crying, what’s going on?” Ashley cried, her voice wavering with anxiety.

“Sometimes the little ones need a helping hand, Dr Stevenson’s just warming her up.” A nurse explained.

“Come on love, stay strong.” Gemma whispered, stroking Ashley’s hair, the painful silence was interrupted by the baby’s high pitched scream, “She’s okay Ash, she’s a fighter.” 

“Is she alright?” Ashley asked Dr Stevenson.

“We’re going to take her to ICU, to minimise risk of infection, and make sure she’s stable, the surgeon will stitch you up and then you can come down and see her.” 

It had reached the early hours of the evening, golden sun was streaming through the windows of the hospital, Ashley lay in bed, the majority of the anesthetic had worn off now. “How are you feeling?” a new midwife asked, checking Ashley’s notes.

“Good, thank you.” Ashley replied.

“If you’d like to I can take you to see your baby.” 

“Yes please.” with the help of the midwife and Gemma she got into the wheelchair successfully as they took her down to the intensive care unit. 

“Here’s your little lady, I’m afraid you can’t hold her yet, but you can put your hands in and she’ll clasp onto your finger, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hello beautiful, did it get too boring in there petal?” Ashley reached her hand inside the incubator, letting her baby hold onto her finger, “We’re going to have to give you a name little lady, how does Daisy sound? I think it suits you perfectly. It’s a scary world out there Daisy darling, but we’ll get through it together.”

Gemma entered the room, armed with cups of tea, “She’s perfect Ash, you did so well in there.” Gemma whispered, handing Ashley a cup of tea.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all of it. If you need to get home I’ll understand, I think I owe Harry a call.” Ashley told her.

“Alright then, I’ll see you soon, if you need anything, let me know.” Gemma replied before quietly leaving the NICU room.

Ashley pulled her phone from the pocket of her dressing gown, dialling Harry’s number, who picked up almost instantly, “Hello movie star, how are you?” 

“I’m good, it’s been busy today, I’m back at the hotel now, how about you?” he replied, sitting on the end of his hotel bed.

“Pretty uneventful,” she grinned, “Someone’s decided to say hello to the world six weeks early.”

“Wait, you mean-”

“My daughter was born at 2pm today.” She told him.

“Are you okay? Is she okay?” Harry asked frantically, “If you need me to come back early I can.”

“I don’t need you to do that H, she’s little so they’ve put her in an incubator, just as a precaution, until she’s stronger.” Ashley explained, Daisy still clutching onto her finger.

“You weren’t on your own we’re you?” Harry worried.

“No, Roman drove me from work, Gem met me here and stayed with me throughout, she’s gone home now though.” Ashley explained.

“That’s good, have you given her a name?” 

“Daisy, Daisy Alice Hanson.” Ashley replied, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she admired her newborn baby.

“I miss you, I’ll be back mid august though so I’ll see you then.” Harry explained.

“We look forward to it, at least by then you’ll be able to hug her, at the moment she can only hold onto my hand.” 

“Well I look forward to my first hug from her, and you of course.” Harry replied.

“We’re so lucky to have you Harry.” Ashley told him.

“Trust me, I’m the lucky one.”

The following morning Ashley stirred from her sleep thanks to the sound of familiar voices beside her bed, she opened her eyes to see her mum Linda and Anne sat beside her. “Hello love, how are you?” Linda whispered.

“Stiff, I’ve been in this bed for a solid twelve hours, I’ve been wheeled everywhere,” Ashley told them both, shuffling to sit herself up properly, “Anne, you have raised two absolute angels, Gemma was incredible yesterday, and speaking to Harry on the phone last night made my heart feel so full.” 

“I’m just glad to see you’re alright sweetheart.” Anne told her.

“How was the journey down?” Ashley asked them both.

“It was good, we got the train down, and we stopped off on the way to get some bits for you and the baby, I imagine all the baby grows you’ve got are going to be a bit big at the moment so we bought you some premature ones.” Linda explained.

“That’s lovely mum thank you, would you both like to meet Daisy?” Ashley asked.

Ashley wasn’t wrong when she said she was stiff, she had managed to change into a hoodie and joggers, but walking was a bit difficult at first. She led Anne and Linda into NICU, “Mum, Anne, this is baby Daisy.” She showed them the incubator where Daisy lay sound asleep, a tiny hat covering the top of her tiny head.

“She’s beautiful,” Linda whispered.

“Perfect.” Anne agreed.

“I’m already so in love with her, I can’t quite believe she’s finally here.”

One Week Later

“I’ve got some good news for you Ashley.” The midwife told Ashley who was sat feeding Daisy, who was now strong enough to be held, “The doctors think Daisy’s made enough progress in the last week for you to take her home.”

“Really? Do you mean today?” she asked.

“We’ll have to do a few checks beforehand, but I don’t see why not.” She explained.

“Hear that Dais? We’re going home today.”

Once the doctors had done their relevant checks, they agreed that Daisy was healthy enough to go home, Ashley placed a peacefully sleeping Daisy into her pram, her fingertips just about poking out of the sleeves of her baby grow that was way too big for her. “Right my love, it’s time for you to face the big wide world.” Ashley pushes the pram out to the waiting area where Gemma was waiting with all the bags.

“You ready?” Gemma asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

[moonxjoon]

How Can I Help You? | chapter 2

one | two

Pairing: HueningKai x barista!Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: Working at the local cafe in town is normally a tiresome day job, until you meet a particularly fascinating young guy who frequents your shop more and more often than usual.

A/N: Isolation got me motivated to so some more writing, quite unfortunate this took so long :/ REQUESTS OPEN!

Your hectic and bustling day continued as per usual, and your captivation with the boy eventually migrated from your mind until it was closing time. You locked up and brought your interest back home to linger in a deep slumber. 

Just as you shut your eyes to let the dark blanket of night whisk you away to sleep, you were roused to your senses when an ear-piercing alarming jerked you awake. Immediately after you lifted your head from your pillow, your hand flew to your face to rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes. It traveled to the back of your head and neck, which were now sore from shifting around too much whilst unconscious. 

You blinked a few times to adjust to the minimal amount of light that covered your room in a grey mist. Looking out your window, you saw the sky was clouded and a hazy overcast indicated it was beginning to snow. You groggily lifted yourself from the bed and as soon as your feet hit the frigid floorboards, the thought of skipping work and going back to bed seemed like the best idea in the world. 

Better judgement took over and you forced yourself to make your way to the bathroom. The steam that filled the small room once you started the shower made you feel a little better; a hot shower would relieve your tense muscles and hopefully make your day go by a tad smoother. 

Just as you stepped out of the tub to wrap a towel around yourself, you were further awakened by a loud knocking at the door.

“Y/N! Did you fall asleep in there or something?? I have to get ready too, y’know!” Your roommate, Lia, shouted from the other side of the door.

Nearly slipping on the unsecured floor mat, you moaned and swung the door open, letting a gust of steam spill out into the hall before you. You looked at her in exasperation, your lips unconsciously twisting into a scowl. For the life of you, you could never pinpoint how your roommate always seemed to get up every morning looking like a Disney princess. Not a single hair was out of place, no sign of smudged makeup from the day before, not even a hint of morning breath. She looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed without even trying most days. 

Catching your unpleasant grimace, she pursed her lips at you in confusion. “You don’t look too happy, sunshine. Rough day yesterday, huh?”

You gazed at her with unyielding tired and swollen eyes, answering her question. 

“Gotcha. It’s sleeting out there, so be careful, yeah?” You let out another guttural groan and shut your eyes as your head hit the side of the doorframe. “I noticed. I’ll be sure to wear my boots, in that case.” You assured.

“Good. I’ll be in class til’ six, so if you slip and bust your ass, I won’t be around to come to your rescue.” She beamed with pearly whites. She didn’t even brush her teeth yet! 

“Now move it, I have to pee really bad.” You shimmied out of her way so she could replace your spot in the bathroom and made your way back to your room to get ready. 

“Oh! And don’t forget to dry your hair well! It’ll freeze right to your scalp if you don’t! Can’t be catching a cold right before finals.” She called out before you shut your own door. 

“Thanks, Lia.” She definitely couldn’t hear you over the sound of her relieving her bladder. 

“Damnitdamnitdamnit!” 

Today was one of those days that solidified your reputation of not being a morning person. As soon as you returned from your shower, you took a quick second (you swore that’s how long it was) to rest after getting dressed. You were doomed the moment you let yourself shut your eyes. Your brief downtime turned into a half-hour snooze, and you awoke instantly realizing and regretting your decision. 

You were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago to open up shop. You hastily threw on the closest pair of shoes in your reach and swung on your coat, rushing out the door without even checking if you locked it behind you. As you sped down the stairs of your complex and out to the unwelcoming chilly street, you pulled out your phone to check the time.

6:35. I am so screwed.

The shop was only a ten minute walk away, seven if you ran there. You braced yourself for the early morning sprint and only then did you realize Lia was right, your damp hair sent chills down your spine. You didn’t even think about grabbing a hat before you left. 

You disregarded the hat, knowing your hair would dry in time. Your legs pumped down and throughout the streets of your town, the routine to work embedded in your head forever, probably.

Five minutes later your breaths were shallow and your calves were burning. The flurries were coming down harder now, obscuring your vision and forcing prickling tears from the corners of your eyes. As pedestrian after pedestrian was dodged from your mad dash down the steep hill leading down to the valleyed intersection, you heard someone call out a few words. Not knowing if they were directed to you or not, you ignored them and continued down the drop off until you forced your eyes wide open to see the crosswalk you needed to get across before you were finally on your cafe’s street. 

You hated this intersection. The two streets, Crown Drive and Summer Boulevard bisected to form what the city dubbed “Cat & Dog Junction”, on account of the recently heavy traffic of pet owners bringing their furry friends out for a stroll around the city before and after work. 

Likewise, this intersection led to the busiest boutiques and most popular businesses that got an abundance of attention from city dwellers. You were one of the lucky employees that had your job nestled comfortably right at the bend of this street, where there was never a dull moment (or for that matter, a moment to breathe). 

The fingers that were clenched at the lapels of your coat were pure white, and your exposed skin on your face burned dully now. The crossway was a few yards away...you just had to cross the street and you’ll get to work less than five minutes late, better than not showing up at all, at least. 

Two more minutes. Be there in two- woAH!

Suddenly your steady running was interrupted by an uneven lip in the pavement of the sidewalk. You felt your entire body start flying forward on the weight of one foot. Your eyes were now pried wide open as your arms began to flail at your sides- grasping at nothing but air. You tried to halt your ungraceful sidewalk skiing by planting both feet to the ground, but to no avail. The pavement below you was slick and icy, preventing you from gaining any sort of traction as you slid down the hill. Your head spun and in a moment of clarity you registered the pedestrians' words from earlier, shouting at you to “be careful!” 

It was more apparent than ever that you probably should have grabbed those snow shoes. 

Red light. Red light. RED LIGHT-

You thought to yourself once you saw that there was nothing in front of you stopping yourself from skating directly into oncoming traffic. Your legs jerked and stumbled under you, like a newborn deer trying to stand on its legs for the first time. Your chest clenches and in a desperate last attempt to impede this disaster, you shut your eyes tight and brace for impact- praying to god your body will let you fall and land on your ass or even on your face instead of getting hit by a car. 

You finally make contact with something, but not the ground, nor what you expected a car speeding toward you would feel like. Your face slammed harshly into something hard, yet plush. And instead of falling straight to the ground after impact, you were suspended in a firm grasp to prevent you from slipping. Your noodle-like appendages now had something to cling to, and you frantically grappled at the thing that thankfully caught your fall. 

The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs as your body met the unidentified savior, who reciprocated a huff of air as your bodies collided. 

“Woah...that’s one way to start your morning off with a kick!”

Your fawn-like legs finally steadied themselves on the ground and your fingers were now shaking in apprehension, embarrassed knowing you almost absolutely “ate it” as Lia would say. You lifted your head from the formers’ chest about to profusely apologize, but paused when you heard the very familiar voice that belonged to your rescuer. That damned boy from yesterday.

“Are you alright? That could’ve ended a whole hell of a lot worse.” 

Kai was currently blocking your view from the crosswalk leading to the cafe. His towering body had stepped around the corner just in time to prevent you from speeding into the road. You gazed up him in utter shock, shaking because of your near crash, but that was old news. Now you were shaking because he was holding onto where your hips and waist met in order to stabilize you better on your own feet.

After a few pants of relief, you calmed your hands and forced yourself to loosen your grip on his jacket that you still clung to, probably leaving nail marks in the refined material. 

“God, yeah no, I-I’m g-good, I’m really sorry I’m late for work and forgot my snowshoes and had to sprint here and didn’t realize there was black ice and I slid all the way down from the top of the hill and again I’m sorry I didn't mean to crash into like that- b-but thanks for stopping me from running straight into oncoming traffic hah-” 

You inhaled several breaths of air from that one sentence and felt like you were gonna pass out until he stopped you. “Hey, no need to apologize. Just a Good Samaritan preventing a lovely lady from nearly dying. All in a days’ work.” He instinctively pulled you towards the inner corner buildings and away from the busy street. 

Stop, your fingers are shaking again. Calm down.

Your heaving breaths slowed down and you looked up at him, noticing the same exact smile plastered on his lips that brought his eyes into thin crescent shapes. His chocolate locks spilled out from underneath a black trapper hat which shielded his ears from the chilly weather. 

More of his noteworthy features were glossed over when his touch was felt through your clothes- his hands were still clutched to your waist firmly as if you would fall right over if he let go. Moreover, your own hands still held securely to the fabric covering his chest, keeping the two of you stiffly locked in place.

It started getting warmer when the two of you had still not broken eye contact. It felt like he was studying your face in earnest detail, inching closer and closer to inspect every aspect.

You pried yourself off him suddenly when your cheeks threatened to turn deep scarlet. His lithe fingers let go when you resisted him, instantly shoving them back into his pockets. 

He cleared his throat and asked “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little shaken up still.” He offered another smile, kind and sympathetic.

You quickly nodded and brushed yourself off. “I’m good, don’t worry about me. Again, thank you so much, Kai.” 

His head perked up and his grin became wider. 

Hey! You remembered my name?” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well why wouldn’t I remember-” You shut your mouth quickly. 

Exactly, why would you remember his name, weirdo?

“Uhm, yeah, I remember your...suit? The tie was familiar, and I remembered you wore the same one yesterday.” You bluffed and motioned to the dark blue tie barely poking through his suit jacket and outer coat. 

He glanced down to his outfit and back to you with a questioning smirk. “My tie was memorable, huh? Interesting. Thought this was the most basic one I owned.” 

You blushed hard and bit the inside of your cheek, forcing out a chuckle. “Guess it’s pretty eye-catching.” You thanked god when he changed the topic.

“Funny, I figured I’d run into you again, but not this literally, Y/N.” You took in the way his entire body seemed to bounce up and down when he giggled or even just let out a brief chuckle. The high points of his face donned a coral glow, dotting his nose and cheeks daintily. He was the very definition of a pretty boy. 

Wait, he actually expected to meet again? You suddenly felt even more dizzy than before. 

“You remembered my name too, I see.” You commended him. 

“Of course, that drink you made for me the other day was delicious. I was actually heading to the cafe right now to get another before class.” The personal bubble the two of you had made while talking to each other suddenly burst when you realized you were still running late. You seriously got caught up in his conversation, completely disregarding your job. You peered over his broad shoulders to see the walk now signal brighten up across the street. 

“Crap, I forgot I’m gonna be clocked in late! Uhm, if you’re still in for a coffee, I’ll be glad to make it for you once I get situated?” You sped to the crosswalk and looking both ways this time, diligently making your way to the adjacent street with Kai in close pursuit. He seemed to keep up just fine, though, since his strides were a whole lot longer than yours.

“Think I’ll take you up on the offer.” You contentedly walked alongside each other until you reached the little coffeehouse. He rushed in front of you and pulled the door open for you to enter, earning him a coy smile and ‘thanks’. A wave of relief washed over you when you saw the shop was not as packed as yesterday, save for a few customers sitting by the window bar enjoying breakfast. 

The relief vanished when a hostile voice erupted from behind the counter. 

“Y/N! All hands on deck, sweetheart! We haven’t got all day to wait on you.” Your manager shouted at you from across the counter.

With a thinly pressed mouth, you hastily tried to pull off your coat to hang up on the coat rack. “I’m coming, Jen. Got caught up in some traffic, cut me some slack?” You called back as you fumbled around attempting to take your arms out of your heavy coat. “Your paycheck doesn’t wait up for traffic. I have three orders waiting here for you! And you don’t even own a car!” 

She yelled in front of the customers as she expertly poured another piping cup of joe. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment with indifference. She really has no problem making a scene like that right in front of everyone. 

Your arms continued to wiggle free of the jacket, until you were aided by another set of arms carefully pulling it off for you. 

“Here, lemme help you out.” Kai said whilst holding your sleeves, allowing you to easily slip it off. 

“Oh, thanks…” You mumbled and watched as he placed it on the rack before you. He gave you a nod and smiled before slipping off his own coat and trailing behind you once more. 

You shimmied your way around the line of customers and behind the counter to grab your apron. As you tied it around your waist, you spotted the empty cups lined up at the brew station with stickers specifying the type of drink and whatever extra elaborate instructions the customer ordered. 

You picked up the first empty cup hesitantly before glancing behind you when you heard someone situating themselves at a barstool. 

Kai had sat down at the bar where patrons typically waited for their orders or relaxed with their morning joe before work. You met eyes and peered at your manager, who had her back turned, still tapping away at the register. 

Cup still in hand, you turned back to Kai and shifted over to him. His coat was draped behind his seat, yet he still adorned his winter cap. “Aren’t you gonna order something? The line is getting long.” You said quietly, still glancing over your shoulder at Jennie. 

His fingers fiddled with each other as he looked at the aforementioned queue stretching across the shop. “It looks like you’re backed up, I was just going to ask for a cream cheese pastry from the display case. I’ll pay with cash.” 

You questioned his choice to only get a snack, but you complied regardless. Multitasking between making beverages and taking orders, you took a few seconds to grab the pastry from the case and plate it nicely on a small saucer. Before you handed it to Kai, you grabbed a small mug from the cupboard and swiftly poured another drink whilst maneuvering around an already irritated Jennie. 

“Here you go. Enjoy.” You placed the plate and cup in front of him, wiping off excess whip on your apron. He eyed the treat and then the whipped cream topped cup with a confused look. 

“I don't remember ordering a coffee along with it?” He asked. He was now sitting on his hands, warming them from the chilly outdoors. He had looked like a little kid excitedly waiting for his treat. 

“I know, I just finished the first round of drinks. I wanted to try my hand at a new one; this one’s called the ‘Harry Potter’. It’s butter rum and english toffee, taste it! On the house.” 

He took the piping mug to his lips and gingerly sipped at it, in the process coating his upper lip with a fluffy white mustache. He licked it away and nodded his head in approval. “Not bad, I couldn’t imagine your coffee yesterday could top anything, but this beats it out by a second.” 

His smile made you reciprocate, clapping your hands together in glee. “Awesome! I thought it’d be too sweet at first, but if you liked the last one I was sure you’d enjoy this one. Take it as a thank you for saving me down the street earlier.”

He took a big bite out of his pastry, nearly finishing it off in one swift gulp. “Well I couldn’t just let you get hit by a car. I should be thanking you, silly.” 

“Please don’t mention it. It was kind of embarrassing looking like a clumsy penguin.” You talked to him while facing the brewing station, prepping the next order. 

“Aw, but penguins are cute! Plus, every animal is clumsy on ice, you’re no exception and neither are penguins. You made it look cuter, though.” He quipped and took another sip of his drink.

You couldn’t help but at him fondly, smiling at his compliment about you being cute compared to a penguin. He seemed so innocent, yet so confident at the same time. He was almost too endearing. You thanked him for his sweet words, but disagreed at the fact that not a lot of things were cuter than a baby penguin. 

You chatted with each other about menial things, like what schools you went to, how the weather was acting up, and how the township should really salt the sidewalks more often. You found out he went to the academic academy for arts students, known as the Theatrical Experience Training School, or as the students apparently called it, TXT. That explained the pretty embroidered patch on his suit; he was an artsy kid. 

“That’s really cool, what’s your area of expertise?” You asked as you wiped down the counter he sat at, as the early morning rush of people died down leaving you a hot second to breathe. 

“I play a few instruments here and there, but I mostly sing. I was lucky enough to start uni a year early- I’m part of a band with some classmates, we all got scholarships to go there and learn about the ins and outs of becoming performers. We’ve actually written a few songs together, but they’re nothing too special. We’re hoping we can make it big one day, you know?”

You were intrigued by his description of the school, his aspirations, and talents. You were not as musically inclined in the slightest. Hell, you were still undecided about what your major should be, but you admired his dream and determination. 

“Don’t downplay that like its no big deal, that’s so cool! If you and your boys are willing to put in that much effort to become artists, I’m sure you’ll be able to get to your goal. Hey, in return for the pastry and coffee, you should let me see one of your shows before you get crazy famous.” 

He had finished his drink and pastry and was now tapping the side of the mug, staring into the empty cup. You could tell he was blushing at your compliment, a smile creeping over his lips. 

“We’ll see how things turn out. I appreciate it, though, more than you think. It’s not easy to make a career out of music, but we really love doing it. I can’t see myself anywhere else that doesn’t involve music, honestly.” Before you could respond, his head turned to the clock behind you and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his coat. 

“Speaking of, morning vocal warm-ups start soon, I gotta go!” He pulled on his coat and adjusted his hat and straps of his backpack. “I don’t want to pull a Y/N and be late. Thank you again for the coffee. See you later!” 

You were about to chide him for making fun of you, but all you had time for was a quick ‘bye’, and a friendly wave. 

Just as he turned towards the door, he froze for a second before spinning back around to face you. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He hastily dug into his coat pocket, fishing out a dollar bill. 

“For a hat. Your hair looks like it's frozen to your head, you know. Dry your hair a little next time.” He shoved the dollar into the tip jar placed at the front of the counter and spun back around on his heel. 

“Thank you, uh, come again-!” You called out. 

You watched him leave again, past the shop windows and around the corner. Looking at the clock yourself, you were surprised to find that only ten minutes had passed since you arrived at work. 

“Weird…” You muttered. It legitimately felt like you’ve been working and talking to Kai for nearly an hour. Time seemed to slip right by, you guess. Day two went on without a hitch, aside from a few remarks from Jen telling you to “stop daydreaming and get back to work” and one spilled iced latte at one of the booths in the corner. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that your brief encounters with Kai had lasted longer than it actually had. Time flew past much quicker than yesterday you noted. You walked past the silvery machinery while making your next drink, catching your reflection hand brushing down a few flyaways you noticed at the top of your head. 

It was still cold and damp from this morning. 

[neonsentient]

Haikyuu! Rise Above

A ragtag group of students from a school for troubled teenagers forms an unconventional co-ed volleyball team in hopes of proving to themselves that they're more than what people make them to be. With the help of a few loopholes in the rulebook, they'll have the chance to win the gold for what might possibly be the last time in their lives.

Think of it as a spin-off, the Karasuno's first years are now second years, but I will focus on this paticular team.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, underage drinking, self harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide, racial and homophobic slurs. Not all at the same time though.  

Chapter 1: Promising Young People

Amara leaned closer to the toilet as she gagged, throwing up her measly breakfast of tea and apple slices, the only things she could stomach that morning. In an unusual lucky strike, the bathroom she was currently in puking her guts out was empty.  It probably had something to do with the fact that she decided to arrive at the school building an hour earlier, otherwise she would’ve had an audience.

She rose from the floor, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and went to check herself in the bathroom mirror. Her russet skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, her waist-length crow black braids were loose and poorly made and the bags under her eyes could’ve been easily mistaken for bruises. That morning she didn’t even bother to look for her makeup bag in her suitcase.

“First impressions matter, you know?” Her parents would’ve told her. “It’s not every day you get to make them.”

“But I already made mine.” Amara thought bitterly.

She splashed cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth as best as she could.  Now she was regretting not bringing at least some concealer or even chapstick.

“As if that were to make things any better.” A voice hissed from the back of her head. “As if that would…..”

Amara shook her head, bringing herself back as she checked her wrist watch. She was supposed to meet her guide at the entrance. In a normal scenario, she would’ve already known by now where everything in the school was, her classes, the gym, the best spots for a smoke break……

But despite being her second year of high school, it was her first year at Ōkamiyama Alternative Academy. In fact, since most of her education consisted of homeschooling, it was her first time back at school since she was in elementary, period. And unlike many other students who had arrived at least a week earlier, Amara’s messy flight schedule made her arrive only a day before the school started.

One look at the main building and it was clear that the school had a thing for a certain color scheme, or lack thereof, rather, since Amara noticed that all the buildings were either black, white or gray. That and the uniforms, a dreadful combination of a prison concrete gray blazer and pants or skirt with a white shirt and black tie. Luckily, the school didn’t seem to be too strict on the dress code, since she saw several students with all sorts of accessories, shoes and even altered pieces of the uniform.

She decided to play it safe by wearing it plain with a pair of rather sad looking black loafers that had seen better days - an emergency purchase at Target after her suede Jimmy Choo boots fell victim to an unexpected downpour-, and a gray Casio. It's not like she was expecting the sailor tops and blue skirts she saw on TV, but the overall look did leave Amara incredibly disappointed.  

Her guide was a girl called Emine Narisawa, also a second year and in the same class as her. Other than that she didn’t knew anything else. It was still a bit early, so she sat at a bench near the entrance, and to no surprise, it didn’t took long for the stares and whispers to start.

“That’s her, right?”

“Oh, so it was for real?”

“Is it just me, or did she looked taller on TV?

Amara’s vision turned blurry, her eyes curdling with tears. She quickly dug into her bag, pulled out her IPod nano (one of the few devices that the school allowed) and headphones and pressed shuffle, not even paying attention to the song that was playing as she took several deep breaths.

She tried her best to distract herself with anything, yet not even a second later, Amara felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She jolted on her seat, took off her headphones and turned to face the person behind her.

“Ups! Sorry!” A cheery voice apologized. “You’re Amara Murakami, right?

The girl was tall, not as much as Amara, but still taller than the average second year girl, and model-thin, with long hair the dark red of rose petals tied in a high ponytail. A ridiculously big, silvery gray bow sat atop her head. Amara immediately noticed her uniform, or “uniform”; the blazer had been turned into a button vest, the gray skirt was embezzled with black and white rhinestones and she sported a pair of white Adidas sneakers. Amara had bought the same ones just two months ago. A thin, white gold anklet with pea-sized bubblegum-pink sapphires was clasped at her slim ankle.

“My name’s Emine Narisawa, but everyone calls me Emi! Wow, you’re taller than I imagined.” The girl chirped. Her voice had a slight hoarse edge to it, which combined with her super girly perfume, an overly sweet combination of flowers and strawberry, made Amara suspect that she was a smoker and that she probably had a cigarette before the tour. “Welcome to The Den!”

Amara could only raise her eyebrows.

“Get it? Cuss we’re wolves!” The girl pointed at the welcoming banner hanging in the entrance, where a menacing looking gray wolf was painted.

“Right.” Amara nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Umm, thanks?"

The redhead caught her hand in an overly enthusiastic handshake. She had a pretty face, although her cheeks looked a tad bit gaunt, and she wore silver eyeshadow with glitter all over her face and hair. Her tanned skin, a shade lighter than Amara’s, was completely covered with freckles, and her lips were painted a shimmering soft pink.

“Wow, your eyes look super cool!” She said, inspecting Amara’s face. “You’re from America, right? Is one of your parents Japanese?”

“So she hasn’t heard of me.” Amara thought with relief. She then noticed that Emine was waiting for an answer.

“Y-yeah I’m from Massachusetts.” She answered. “Umm, my dad’s Japanese and m-my mom’s Nipmuc.”

The redhead cocked her head in confusion.

“Native American.” Amara explained.

Emine’s licorice black eyes lit up.  

“Cool! So you guys are the ones that make, like, dreamcatchers and stuff?” She asked. There wasn’t a single hint of malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity, but still, it made Amara feel annoyed.  

“Ummm…”

“My Nine was from Turkey,” Emine said. “And they have these Nazar amulets to ward off the evil eye or something. Is it the same thing?”

“I don’t…”

“Anyways, you’ll love it here. It never gets boring!” Emine explained as she leaned uncomfortably close, linking her arm with Amara’s. “Follow me, I’ll take you to our classroom.”

The girls made their way inside the building and all the way through Emine "discreetly" pointed out rooms and people, giving Amara a crash course on the school, the students and teachers.

By the time they reached their classroom, Amara had learned that the captain of the baseball team had just began dating the president of the Student Council, crop tops were back in style, the back of the football field was the best place to smoke and that the guys from the Shōgi club sold the best ketamine during midterms.

"Don't they do drug tests all the time?" Amara asked. She herself had an appointment in the nurse’s office later that night for one.

Emine nodded.

"Yup, but it's a six panel."

It was Amara's turn to be confused once again. She had drug tests done before but she only...provided the sample, she never bothered to ask about the details.

"Weed, coke, speed, benzos, angel dust and opiates. All the mainstream stuff," Emine explained. "Ketamine doesn't show."

“Oh.” Amara said. “I thought there weren’t a lot of drug users in Japan.”

“Oh there are,” Emine said, occasionally waving to the people in the hallway. “And here are some of the ones that got caught.”  

“Good to know?”

Amara thought that drugs were a rare commodity in Japan, but then she remembered where she was….

“So…” The redhead began, pulling Amara out of her thoughts. “How are you liking the dorms so far?”

“They’re cool.” Amara replied in a monotone voice. “My roommate hasn’t showed up yet, though.”

“Oh yeah, I heard she’s busy with some family stuff.” Emine pointed out.

“So you know her?” Amara inquired. “What’s she like? I mean, personality wise.”

Emine scrunched up her face, trying to find the right words.

“Well, she’s a bit of a…..

“Bitch!” A voice yelled from the other side of the hallway.

A girl walked towards them with a rhythmic and intense stride that made Amara think she was going to do a handspring or cartwheel at any second. She was gorgeous, what people would call a “Bombshell”, with sun tanned skin as if she had spent an entire summer at the beach, and a long mane of sandy blonde waves styled in the same way as Emine; a high ponytail with a bow on top, though hers was black. Her dark teal eyes had a gleam that Amara could only describe as “keen”.

The girl faced directly at the redhead with a quasi indignant look. Amara noticed that her look was very similar to Emine's; the embezzled skirt and altered blazer, shimmery eyeshadow and glitter sprinkled all over her face and hair.

"I can take a couple missed calls but ignoring me the whole summer was just mean!" She said, giving the redhead an angry look.

Emine looked saddened.

"I'm sor…..”

Before the redhead could finish the blonde interrupted her with a big hug.

"I've been worried sick! Even a "Don't text me" would've been enough!" She cried, clinging to Emine's neck. "Never do that again, got it?"

Emine's expression eased as she returned the hug.

"Never again."

If there was something worse than being a third wheel Amara sure was being just that at the moment.

The girls broke their hug and a pair of teal eyes immediately fell on Amara. They weren't menacing, just, observing her. The blonde was significantly shorter than Amara and Emine, but her presence felt more….. imposing. Even with the uniform, Amara could see the outline of muscle on her legs and arms.

"Oh!" Emine exclaimed, as if she had just remembered that Amara was there, and gestured towards the blonde. "Amara, this is Erika Sawai, captain of the cheer squad.

“Now it makes sense,” Amara connected the dots as she looked at both Emine and the blonde. The perky attitude, the lithe build, and even the bows. “They’re cheerleaders.”

“And Erika, this is….."

"Amara Murakami," Erika said, capturing Amara's hand in a firm handshake. "Rumour mill went that you were gonna end up here. But for future reference, I wouldn't trust anything they say around here. It tends to be a little….unreliable."

"Umm, sure" Amara said. She wasn't sure how to react to that. "I-I'll keep that in mind."

“My, my,” Erika leaned a bit closer. Amara caught the scent of the blonde's peach blossom perfume.  “What pretty eyes you have.”

“Uh, thanks.” Amara muttered.

"Oh, I know!" Emine perked up with an “Eureka!” type of expression. “Since I can’t join you guys for lunch why don’t you go with Amara to the cafeteria, Erika?”

Amara felt incredibly awkward. Day one and she was already being ditched by the one person that was supposed to be with her.

“Sure.” Erika shrugged, a smirk appearing on her face. “I love fresh meat.”

Amara gulped. Why did spending a couple hours with a cheerleader, a really pretty one to boot, made her more nervous than stepping into a court filled with professional players?

Then the bell pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Come on, Amara!” Urged Emine. The redhead turned quickly and gave Erika one last hug before entering the classroom. “And see you later Erika!”

Erika waved them goodbye before making her way to her classroom.

Their first classes; English, Math, Japanese literature and Science seeped through Amara’s brain like water on a strainer. Luckily none of her teachers made her introduce herself to the class so far.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but notice the “subtle” whispers and looks from her classmates.

A few minutes after the bell rang they found Erika already outside. Emine apologized to Amara, promising to be back as soon as lunch was over and making quick plans with Erika to catch up later in the day before she made her way into an unknown destination. Amara was tempted to ask, but at the same time she told herself that she knew better than prying on someone else’s business.

She exited the classroom and was immediately greeted by Erika’s sly smile.

“Long time no see, Sugar.”

Amara gave her a tight smile as they walked towards their destination.

_________________________________________________________________________

The principal was a firm believer that a healthy diet was key to a healthy mind, therefore, the school’s vending machines only offered water, organic soy milk, sugar-free drinks, fruit and protein bars.

There were two cafeterias, but Amara was told upon arrival that she only had access to one of them. There, most of the menu items were either boiled, steamed or baked and it also had an all-you-can-eat salad bar and a drink station where one could get teas, coffees, smoothies or juices. Amara thought it was a sharp, yet nice, contrast with her old elementary school’s cafeteria choices of cardboardy pizza, dry meatloaf and congealed mac 'n' cheese.  

Amara silently wondered what was the deal with the other cafeteria as she took a spoonful of miso soup.

“Liking the food so far?” Erika asked, placing her tray opposite to Amara's. She had a bowl brimming with a colorful salad of greens, pecans, apples and fennels, a plate of spiced tofu and two cups; one filled with a pale orange drink and the other with a beige colored liquid. She handed the beige one to Amara. " Here, try this."

She had told Erika that her stomach was feeling a little odd (yet not the reason as to why), so Amara trusted that anything she had given her wouldn't kill her on the spot. She took a sip and despite the unappetizing color the flavour was delicious; sweet, creamy yet not too heavy, and with the aftertaste of almonds. It felt nice on her tender stomach.

"Wow," Amara said, pleasantly surprised. "What's this?"

Erika winked and smiled. For a second, it reminded Amaran of someone else's smile.

"My Mama calls it the Jitter Killer." She explained, her voice emitting a hint of nostalgia. "She's been making them for me ever since I started competing. But once I got here I had to start making them myself."

"It's really good!" Amara complimented, taking another sip. She then thanked her, wholeheartedly. Gestures like those literally made her day a thousand times less shitty.

"Any time, Sugarcube." She chuckled, and then leaned towards her with a curious expression. "But do tell. How is a first day of school more intimidating than stepping into a court filled with three meter sized Amazonians?"

Amara lowered her face and blushed. She only told her that she wasn’t feeling good, she never told her the reason.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"You look exactly how I did on the day of my first competition." Erika recalled. "I believe I was around six?"

"What?" Amara said. "Do cheerleaders really start that young?"

"Yup." Erika nodded. "Especially in the States. They love their cheers there, let me tell ya."

"You're from there too?"

"Mama's from Texas" The blonde said. "So it’s always been half and half until now. We still go for the holidays though, they’re much more fun there."

"Sounds cool. I'm from Massachusetts, and I've only been in Japan like twice….until now."

The atmosphere suddenly became grim, and Amara felt her breath hitch. Erika's hand reached for hers.

"Hey." Emiki said, her voice serious. "I know you probably heard this enough but...I'm really sorry for your loss."

Amara's eyes began to curdle with tears.

"You're actually one of the only ones to tell me that."

Then she broke into sobs.

"S-sorry." Amara tried to apologize. Last night she had cried herself to sleep in her dorm, clutching a pair of worn out volleyball shoes, not even bothering to unpack, she just wasn’t in the mood for anything but crying. And there she thought that she had cried everything last night…...

Erika bolted from her seat and to her side, placing her hands on Amara's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Oh, Honey Bee." She said. "Don't you dare apologize for your feelings ever again. You better promise me that"

Amara sniffed and nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" Erika asked, the way a mother would when trying to comfort her child.

"I….

"There you are!" A voice interrupted. "We've been looking for you everywhere, morra!"  

Amara and Erika both turned and looked. There were three girls, each one different from the other. They were around the same height but that was where the similarities ended. One had brown skin, long glossy black hair in a single thick braid tied with a gray bow and umber brown eyes traced with glittery makeup. A gold stud glinted in her nose. The other had bronze skin, waist-length chocolate colored hair with a gray bow atop and eyes like two yellow tourmalines. On her face was a red lipped, wicked dimpled smile, like a kid who’d just finished pulling up a prank. The third one was a bit meek looking, with rosy white skin, a cloud of short strawberry blonde hair with a white bow on top and soft green eyes. She fidgeted with her hands and seemed ready to throw up at any second. Amara immediately felt a bout of compassion towards her.

“It’s lunch time, where else would I be?” Erika asked with a confused expression.

“Good point.” The brown haired girl said. She took a sip from the giant coffee cup in her hand. “Can we join you?”

Erika gestured at the empty seats.

The black haired girl looked at Amara up and down, from her messy braids and puffy red eyes to the plain black loafers.

“First time here?” She asked her as she sat.

Amara nodded and noticed their outfits; skirts embroidered with flowers and crystals, Miu Miu sneakers and Birkin bags. How she wished she had her new Air Jordans with her….

“Aww! I remember my first day as if it was yesterday.” The brown haired girl sighed.

The black haired girl furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t you threw up from withdrawal?”

“It was from a hangover, not withdrawal! They’re like two different things!” The brown haired girl corrected, indignant.

Erika cleared her throat, making the three girls turn their heads at her.

“Amara, these are my friends and members of the cheer squad.” Erika explained.

She pointed at the black haired girl.

“This is Kumari Hanan, our best flyer.”

Kumari gave Amara a small nod.

“This is Ximena Otakara, our dance expert and choreographer.”

“And future celebrity, don’t forget that.” The brown haired girl added with a wink.

Erika rolled her eyes and then pointed at the strawberry blonde girl.

“And this is our newest addition to the team, Kara Tamada”

Kara gave Amara a timid smile and wave.  

“Kumari is a third year like me, Ximena’s a second year like you, and Kara is a freshman.” Erika explained and then gestured at Amara. “Girls, this is Amara Murakami, please don’t torture her.”  

“A la madre! ” Ximena looked at her, surprised. “Wicked eyes, girl!”

Amara lowered her gaze and mumbled an empty thanks. If there was something she was used to at that point in her life, was of people making comments about her eyes.

"Sectoral heterochromia." Were the doctor's oficial words.

"Stained glass eyes." Her friends often called them.

"Woodland eyes." Her grandfather had called them. "Brown for the soil, black for the stone and green for the life."

"You carry your land within your eyes, Amara." He told her once. "You will never be lost."

“If only that were true.” Amara couldn’t help but think.

But then she saw Ximena’s eyes squinting in concentration.

“No mames, I’ve seen you before!” She said, proud of her discovery. “You’re that volleyball chick!”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Kumari joined.

Amara’s stomach plummeted and her face paled, which Erika noticed.

“Damn it you two, what did I just say!?” The blonde scolded. Her tone was the same one Amara’s mom used when reprimanding her. “Hope you’re in the mood for running suicides today!”

"What? Why?" Ximena and Kumari cried.

"That's okay, Erika." Amara reassured her. "It's not like it's a secret, anyway."

“See? We have the Ok.” Ximena said, earning a murderous gaze from Erika.

Then an awkward silence filled the table.

“So…” Kumari began, taking a sip of her purple smoothie. “You’re joining the volleyball team?”

In Ōkamiyama, all students were required to join a school club or association, and from looking at the list that came with the welcoming pamflet, there seemed to be quite a lot, from embroidery and cooking to horse riding and rock climbing. There were even some odd ones like “The Cheese Connoisseurs Association” and “Apocalypse Survival Prepping Club”. And there were also the typical sports clubs like baseball, basketball, football* and of course, volleyball.

She didn’t wanted to give up volleyball, but the wound was still so fresh it still bled…...

“I-I don’t know.” She mumbled. “I’m still not sure. I have a week, don’t I?

“Yeah, of course.” Erika reassured her. “And if you need more time, you can ask the therapist for an extension.”

Amara had completely forgot about the therapist.

In a normal school, a counselor was usually available for students if they wished so, but here it was mandatory to have individual one hour weekly therapy sessions,and once she joined a club, group therapy would also become obligatory. Amara’s first session was scheduled for Sunday.

“Yeah, don't sweat it!” Ximena said.

“Isn't Emi also joining the volleyball team?” Kumari inquired.

Amara raised an eyebrow.

“I thought she was a cheerleader.” She asked, looking at Erika.

“Emphasis on was.” Ximena sighed.

“And not just that, she was...is...the best tumbler in the prefecture.” Kara explained in a soft voice.

“Really?” Amara asked, she knew from somewhere that tumbler meant acrobat, basically a gymnast with a mini skirt instead of a leotard. “Then why did she quit?”

Ximena, Kumari and Erika looked at each other.

“She didn’t told you?” Kumari asked.

“Tell me what?” Amara looked at Erika for guidance.

“Okay that’s enough.” The blonde’s face had a not so subtle hint of worry. “That’s not for us to talk about, I’m sure that in time Emi will tell you all about it.”

Amara certainly felt a bit pained for being left out, but it was someone whom she literally just met, so she concluded that she had no right to be upset either.  

Kara must’ve sensed the tense atmosphere and quickly asked some questions about the cheer squad. There were many terms that Amara did not understood, but she soon became fascinated. The cheerleaders at the games Amara played in danced around and cheered (duh!) but the way Erika and the others talked about the work plan for their squad it was clear that they did more than that.

“Hey, why don’t you join the squad?” Erika suggested.

“We do need more tumblers.” Kumari pointed out.

“Yeah.” Ximena agreed. “How are your back handsprings?”

“Ummm...nonexistent?”  Amara admitted, although the idea did sound nice. “I do have a mean cartwheel, though.”

The girls chuckled.

“Okay, maybe we can help you find another club if volleyball and cheerleading won’t do it for ya.” Erika smiled and stood, walking towards a notice board and taking a poster version of the clubs and associations list.

“Let’s see then.”

They tried to summarize each club as best as they could, counting the pros and cons and telling her about the people in them.

“What’s the Wolf Kingdom Club?” Amara asked, slightly amused by the odd names.

Everyone grunted, which Amara took as a bad sign.

“That’s the historical reenactment club.” Erika said. “They do everything medieval, and I mean everything.”

“Except dying from the plague.” Kumari muttered.

“So that’s a no?” Amara inquired.

“Depends.” Ximena said. “Do you like dancing with seven layers of clothing on and churning your own butter?”

“Pass.” Amara said.  

And so they spent the rest of the lunch break going over the list in hopes of finding something for Amara, but nothing seemed to catch her attention. Kara spoke on occasions whenever she felt in danger of being forgotten.

By the time the bell rung, they’ve managed to narrow it down to the basketball team and the basket weaving club. She had the height and the jump for the first one and the skills for the last one.

“If you change your mind, you should go with Emi to the tryouts after school.” Erika reminded her as they walked towards Amara’s classroom.

She nodded weakly, lost in thought.

Erika sighed and tapped her shoulder, making their eyes meet.

“Look, I don’t know a lot about volleyball, but I do know that it shares something in common with cheerleading.”

Amara arched an eyebrow. Then, Erika grabbed her hands, the blonde's lightly tanned skin clashing with Amara's russet complexion. Their eyes met, and Erika’s had one of the most serious expressions Amara had ever seen.

“Jumps are the most thrilling part, as well as the hardest.” She said. “When we jump, we don’t take steps back, not even to gain momentum. It’s always forwards, full force.”

Amara had so many questions about those words, yet she didn’t ask. Was it fear or confusion that stopped her? She didn’t knew. But for a moment she was sure the girl was saying that there was only one way to go.

Forward.

[mystical-flute]

Home Is Wherever I’m With You (Ch. 2)

AO3 || Ko-fi

“Okay Miss Swan, what brings you here today?”

“I… just don’t feel good,” Emma said, biting her lip nervously. “I’ve felt nauseous and been throwing up. I thought it was food poisoning from all the fried foods I ate last week but… it hasn’t stopped and my breasts are starting to ache and I’m just - tired! I’m supposed to be on vacation and - ”

The doctor held up her hand, smiling softly. “Okay, I see the picture. Emma, what was the date of your last period?”

Emma froze, feeling the color drain from her face.

Oh, no.

“Um.  J - January.”

The doctor gave her a kind smile. “Right, Emma… I’m going to ask you to take a pregnancy test. It may be a virus, but I just want to cover all of my bases.”

Emma’s throat had gone dry, but she managed to nod, following a nurse to the bathroom and looking at the stick in her hand.

Pregnant. She might be pregnant.

She’d gotten sex ed in school. She knew she needed to be careful with sex. Neal had managed to find condoms (had one broken?), so protection had been a thing. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But it had.

Emma felt numb when the doctor confirmed the pregnancy, handing her a sheet with her positive test result and doctors in the area, and warning signs to watch out for if things started going wrong. None of it felt real. Yes, she and Neal had come into the $20,000, but that was dwindling the more time they spent here - they still were living out of a hotel! They hadn’t made it to Tallahassee yet, found jobs, or anything! They couldn’t have a baby now - right?

What did she know about being a mother, anyway? All of the mothers she’d ever had in her life either gave her up or tried to kill her. She couldn’t be a mother. Not yet - maybe not ever… even if the little voice in her head was telling her maybe this could work out. Maybe this would be different. After all, they’d promised each other a new start when they’d fenced the watches. Was this a part of that new start?

Emma trudged up the one flight of stairs back to the hotel room (the elevator kept making her nauseous) and exhaled slowly, unlocking the door.

“Neal?”

“Emma! There you are! I have news -” he trailed off when he took in the look on her face.  “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I just have some news myself. But you go first.”

Neal was grinning as he spoke. “I looked at the case against me in Washington and realized the statute of limitations runs out in three days . After that, I can’t be legally charged with the crime anymore, even if I’m stopped. They waited too long to contact the cops!”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Wh - but - that’s amazing! You’re sure that’s real?”

“I triple checked and even called an attorney advertising free advice to double check again!” Neal said, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. “We’re in the clear babe!”

She squeaked, laughing as she gripped him tight. “Wow! I never thought… Neal this is the best news I’ve ever heard!”

“Really? What about your news?” he asked, setting her back down on the ground and frowning slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them or think of anything sappy to say to ease him into the news.

Neal’s face paled. “You - what? You’re - ” he stared at her face, then down at her stomach, then back up at her face. “We’re gonna have a kid?”

“I don’t know, Neal… we don’t have a place to live, we have the $20k, but we don’t have jobs to keep building up our money, and neither of us had good role models for parents. Can we really have a kid now?” she asked, staring up into his eyes.

Neal took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “I know. You never had a stable home and my stability ended when I was thirteen. But I also know that we’re turning over new leaves - no more stealing. No more sleeping in the Bug. No more digging around in dumpsters for food. If we can do all of that, we can stick it to our terrible role models and be the best parents a kid has ever seen.”

Emma giggled, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You do make a compelling argument. And they do have books out there on parenting. And this time, we won’t just abandon our kid on the side of a highway, or make them feel like they have to run away. But… are you sure you want this?”

“What I really want is you. No matter how or when or where,” Neal replied, leaning in to give her a kiss.

Finally, they made it to Tallahassee. Emma found a job as a secretary, while Neal settled into a career as a landscaper. Their apartment was small - two bedrooms and filled comfortably with used furniture they’d found at a thrift store (minus the mattresses for their bed and the crib - they were happy to pay full price for those), but it was eclectic. Cozy. Completely and totally theirs.

For once in her life, the urge to run was gone, and Emma Swan truly felt like she was at home.

Eight months later, the sounds of a newborn’s cry filled the air. Neal was at her side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You did it, Emma…” he breathed against her skin, his cheeks wet from happy tears.

“Congratulations Miss Swan, Mr. Cassidy, it’s a boy!” the nurse announced, approaching with the wriggly blue bundle in her arms.

Emma reached up with still-shaking hands, carefully adjusting him at the nurse’s coaxing, and smiled. “Oh wow… hi baby… I’m your mom…” she shifted him slightly again so he was facing Neal, “and that’s your dad. And while we don’t exactly know what we’re doing, just know that you are so loved, and we’ll do everything we can to protect you and make you happy.”

The little boy blinked, yawned, and fell asleep in her arms, content. It took Emma all she had to not break down in tears. A son. Their son. Their tiny, perfect son with ten fingers, ten toes, and all the trust that they’d keep their promise to keep him safe.

“Sorry to interrupt… but have you decided on a name for him?” the nurse asked quietly, smiling at the little family.

“Henry,” Neal said. “Henry Axel Swan-Cass - ”

“Just Cassidy,” Emma said, looking up at him, then at the nurse. “Henry Axel Cassidy.”

Neal frowned when the nurse left the room after checking Emma’s vitals. “I thought you said you wanted him to have Swan in his name…”

Emma shifted, handing Henry to Neal and leaning back against the pillows. “I did too, until I looked at him and realized… I don’t want to build a future with that name. I chose it because it reminded me of my first foster family, that almost that could have been… and I didn’t want Henry to be stuck with an almost. I wanted him to have your name because of the promise you and I made together, and to him. That we’d always be there. That he’d always be safe…”

Neal smiled, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I think it sounds perfect. Welcome to the world, Henry. We’re all going to be in for a hell of a ride…”

A ride it was, and before Emma knew it, Henry was two years old, and Neal had changed from landscaping to photography, having discovered a passion for it. He worked at a magazine trying to boost tourism to Tallahassee, while Emma found a new career as a bail bondsperson. The career changes meant they could afford new stuff, better stuff. Stuff Emma had never dreamed she would own.

“Hey, Neal? Have you seen Henry’s other shoe?!” Emma called. “We’re going to be late for our dinner reservation!”

“It’s in here, Emma! He insisted on trying to dress himself and didn’t realize there were two!” Neal replied from Henry’s bedroom.

Emma’s heels clicked as quietly as she could against the hardwood floors of the apartment, Henry’s shoe dangling from her finger, stopping in her tracks when she saw what Henry was wearing. It wasn’t the shirt - no, it was just a normal t-shirt, but the words on it had her heart beating fast against her chest.

Mommy, will you marry Daddy?

Behind Henry was Neal, on his knee with a ring.

Henry’s shoe dropped from her finger, her hand going to her mouth. “Yes…” she managed to whisper. “Of course I will.”

Neal grinned, sliding the ring onto her finger. “Great, now that’s settled, we can get Henry to Cleo’s and celebrate.”

Emma laughed, carefully tying Henry’s shoes and lifting him into her arms. “You did a very good job helping Daddy surprise me,” she told him, kissing his head. “But now you’re gonna go spend some time with Miss Cleo, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Henry said, hugging her. “Mommy, are you happy?”

“I’m very happy, baby. You and Daddy make me the happiest I’ve ever been,” she replied as Neal grabbed his bag and the family made their way down to the second floor of the building, where their trusty babysitter was waiting.

Cleo was the one that got her into the business of bail bonding. They’d been introduced by a woman at the clinic Emma had once worked for, and she’d offered to help her find information on her parents. Nothing had come up, but Cleo had taken her under her wing, and Emma found she was one of the only people she could trust. Plus, she adored Henry, and he adored her in return.

“So you finally did it, huh Neal?” Cleo greeted, taking in Henry’s shirt and the ring on Emma’s finger. Congratulations you two.”

“Thanks, Cleo… we might be a bit later than we originally thought, is that okay?” Emma asked with a small frown.

“Of course it is. You two lovebirds take all the time you need. Henry and I’ll be here.”

They married on New Year’s Eve, at a beach a couple of hours from Tallahassee, and rented out a room at a local bar for their few guests. Burgers and hot dogs, onion rings and fries and a cake made by the bar staff just for them. They watched the ball drop in New York on the bar’s television with Henry curled up, asleep between them.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Cassidy,” she whispered, carefully clicking her glass against his.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Cassidy.”

Boston, 2011

“So today at art camp, Jason mixed up the nacho cheese sauce, a glob of pizza sauce and Tina’s leftover chocolate milk, and then drank it !” Henry explained over dinner on a chilly July night.

“Okay, well, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore. Ready to head back to the apartment now?” Neal asked with a playful grin, putting his napkin down on the table and making a motion to stand up.

“Dad, come on, you didn’t have to walk him to the nurse after lunch. I could tell you that story too!”

“I think I’m good, thanks buddy.”

The ensuing years had brought them to Boston, where Neal had gotten a job working for a national travel magazine, and Emma had moved on to private investigation rather than finding people who’d jumped bail. Henry was a thriving ten year old with a wild imagination, and wild friends that encouraged it.

It warmed Emma’s heart to see that his life was so much happier than her own had been prior to meeting Neal. He had two parents who loved him, friends who cared for him, good grades.

A small part of Emma wished her own wayward parents could see their grandson and how he was thriving, and how she’d risen from the ashes of their abandonment.

The rest of her didn’t give a damn about those people anymore and knew they were all better off without them.

“Stop! Thief!” a shout suddenly came from the kitchen. Emma was on her feet immediately, following the sound of the cry.

“What happened?”

“That damn teenage hooligan sneaked in here and stole a bunch of food again!” the chef cried, his face already beet red with anger.

Emma’s heart sank. It hadn’t been that long ago that she was the teenage hooligan stealing food from restaurants or grocery stores.

“How much money was it worth?” she asked, pulling out her credit card. “You know what, never mind. Put it on my bill. I’ll be right back.”

Swiftly, Emma made her way out the side entrance and down the alleyway, where she heard a dog barking and a girl laughing.

Bingo.

“Enjoying a full-course meal, are you?” she asked, leaning against the brick wall and raising a brow at the girl with the large pizza in her hand. The dog was chewing a carrot as if it were a bone.

“Who the hell are you?” the girl snapped, narrowing her eyes.

“Emma. Who are you?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll go to the cops!”

“Technically I should, since you stole a bunch of food from the restaurant,” Emma said with a shrug. “But I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. Tired, hungry, desperate. Unsure of where or when you’ll eat next. Worried about what your friend here is going to eat next…”

Emma had never traveled with a dog before, but she’d been around enough people in her life to know that people loved them as much, or more than, themselves.

The teenager shuffled, looking down. “Right. But so what if you understand? If you aren’t going to call the cops, you’ll just call the social worker.”

“I should do that too, unless you give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t.”

The girl looked panicked. “Because I can’t go back to that house!”

Emma’s eyes widened in alarm. “Okay then,” she forced herself to say calmly. “You can come stay with me for the time being.”

“What?”

Emma nodded. “Like I said, I was like you. I can’t leave you here on your own now that I know you’re here. You’ll be safer with a roof over your head.”

“You - you aren’t gonna kick me out because of Snoopy?”

Emma shook her head, sending a quick text to Neal to have he and Henry meet her outside with their leftovers. “I’ll cough up the $500 pet fee.”

The girl hesitated for another moment, before nodding, grabbing the food and a small bag she had and rising to her feet. “Come on, Snoopy…” she said softly.

“Emma! Where are you?!”

“Who was that?!”

“My husband. He’s a former street kid too. He’s probably got our son with him,” Emma explained, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her in the direction of Neal’s yell. Snoopy followed, the half-eaten carrot dangling from his mouth.

“Mom! Did you find the thief?” Henry asked with a wide grin, before frowning as he noticed the girl.

“Henry, Neal this is uh - ”

“Audrey,” the girl finally said, barely meeting Neal and Henry’s gazes. “And this is Snoopy.”

Henry was sold immediately at the sight of the dog, bending down to give Snoopy pets and scratches.

“I invited Audrey to stay with us for a while,” Emma said.

Neal’s look changed from confusion to understanding in a second. “Of course. C’mon kids, let’s get home.”

That night, after Audrey and Snoopy were settled into bed, both freshly bathed and Audrey in a borrowed pair of Emma’s pajamas, Emma knew what they had to do.

“I’m contacting the social worker tomorrow and getting her transferred to our care,” she said as she hung her leather jacket in the closet. “I don’t care what it’s going to take.”

“Agreed. She seems like a good kid. I can’t stand the thought of putting her back out on the streets,” Neal said solemnly. “Henry seems to like her too, with how long they played on the Playstation.”

Emma nodded, running her hands through her hair and sighing softly. “I just want to help her, like no one helped me.”

“I know. And we will. I think you’ve already given her something she’d been missing.”

“What’s that?”

“Hope.”

Hope. The word left a bitter taste in Emma’s mouth when it came to adoption. Every time a potential parent had come, hope would build in her chest, only for it to deflate when she was deemed too old, too plain, too mean to come home with that family.

She wouldn’t let it happen to Audrey too.

[elizascarlet]

Part IV- Winter

Part 1 | Part 2  | Part 3

Anne was cooking when the screaming started.

The shriek caused her to drop the spoon, the wooden utensil clattering to the floor. The noise was coming from Mary’s room and Anne rushed in there, adrenaline high.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mary groaned, clutching at her back. Sweat dotted her head as she panted.

“Labor,” She managed.

“You’re in labor? When did your waters break?” Anne pulled down the coverlet from Mary’s shoulders, grabbing a towel kept next to the bed and dabbed at Mary’s forehead.

“‘Bout three hours ago…”

“Mary!” Anne admonished. “You’ve been in labor this whole time? Why didn’t you call for me?”

“...already done... before...knew what... expect---” Another scream.

“Bash is in White Sands overseeing the shipment. He won’t be back for hours. And Gilbert, well I don’t know where he is, but I’ve helped with birthings before and I promise you--”

“School...had questions about… assignment.” Mary interrupted before groaning in pain. “Get him… please…”

Anne made a split second decision. It was about the same distance to either Green Gables or the school from here.  

“I’ll be back. Ten minutes, I promise.”

Anne ran to the schoolhouse, stopping at Orchard Slope first. The Barrys’ mansion was always an intimidating place but to Anne, it felt almost like a second home. The maid answered the door, Anne rushing past her.

“Diana! Diana!”

“What’s all this nonsense?” Mr. Barry grumbled, coming out from the parlor. Anne ignored him in favor of Diana who was coming down the stairs.

“Anne!” She called back. “What is it?”

“Mary’s baby is coming. I need you to run to Green Gables and tell Matthew and Marilla. Matthew can then go fetch the doctor.” Message delivered, Anne turned and passed by Mr. Barry, once again ignoring the man.

“Where are you going?” Diana called.

Anne ran out the door she yelled back over her shoulder “To go find Gilbert!”

Dashing through the Haunted Woods she arrived at the schoolhouse in record time, utterly breathless. She banged on the door, no air to use her words, or even the effort of opening the door.

It was Gilbert who opened said door. He saw her face, correctly guessed the situation, and bid a curt farewell to Miss Stacy. He swiftly loped down the path, barely restraining his stride for Anne to keep up.

“Her waters have broken?” At Anne’s nod he continued his interrogation. “How long ago? Has Bash made it back? How long between contractions? How dilated is she?”

“About three hours ago. And no, Bash is still in White Sands.”

“Damn it! Her waters broke three hours ago? Why are you only coming to get me now?!”

“I came as soon as I knew!”Anne defended, frustrated at her friend for putting her in this position, and mad at Gilbert for thinking that she purposefully deceived him.  “I sent Diana to have Matthew fetch the doctor.”

“A doctor that won’t treat a colored woman.”

“Then…” Anne came to a startling conclusion.

Gilbert met her eye. “It’s just us.”

They rushed through the door into the kitchen.

“Mary!” Anne called, bursting through the bedroom door. Her answer was a cry of pain. Gilbert was right behind Anne, coat, scarf, and bag gone, and currently shucking his vest.

“Have you ever birthed a baby?” Gilbert asked, lathering his hands at the washstand.

“Yes, two pairs of twins. You?”

“In Trinidad. The whole reason I wanted to become a doctor.” Gilbert rinsed, and approached Mary.  “How far apart are your contractions?”

Mary look a bit more coherent than she did a few seconds ago. “About two minutes. Is… is something burning?”

Anne gasped. “The pie! I left it in the oven.”

As she ran to the kitchen she heard Gilbert call “Bring extra towels. And set some water to boil!”

Anne pulled out her pie, relieved to find that only the edges had started to blacken. It would be a little too crispy but would make a nice reward, after the baby had come. She quickly set it aside and did as Gilbert bid.

Upon reentering the room, Gilbert had his timepiece in hand, counting. When Mary started to cry, he wrote down the time in a notebook, underneath two other entries.

“Still two minutes?” She asked offering him some butter. He nodded, both in thanks and agreement, covering one hand in the slippery substance. Respectfully, he nodded to Mary before driving underneath the sheet to check the birthing canal.

“Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe a half an hour? I don’t know.” Gilbert paced away, running one hand through his hair. Anne seated herself half beside, half behind Mary, taking the woman’s hand in hers.

Time seemed to stall as Gilbert paced, pausing to jot down the time when Mary started to cry from the contraction, then resumed. Every so often he would check Mary’s dilation, but it was ‘almost but not quite.’

Anne went to check on the water, bringing back a hot compress. She tried to hand it to Gilbert.

“What’s that for?”

Groaning in frustration, she pushed past him and laid the towel underneath the blanket. “The heat helps relax the birthing canal so it doesn’t tear when the baby comes out.” She informed him, as though he should know this already.

She resumed her seat besides Mary just as the woman started to scream in earnest.

Gilbert and Anne met each other’s eyes; it was time.

“Alright, Mary, we need you to push now.” Gilbert instructed, one hand underneath, one hand on top of Mary’s stomach.

Anne gave Mary’s hand a big squeeze. “You can do it. Push!”

Mary’s face twisted in pain, giving a big yell before stopping and panting.

“I see it! Come on Mary! A few more pushes!”

Anne breathed with her, encouraging her. “Squeeze my hand. As hard as you can.”

A few more moments passed, but each felt like an eternity.Time stilled. Anne held her breath.  Finally, at Gilbert’s exclamation, Mary stopped, utterly spent.

Anne slipped out behind her, grabbing a towel, and reached forward to take the red, small, still  bundle.

“She’s not breathing,” Gilbert whispered.

Anne raised an eyebrow before taking a finger and wiping out the newborn’s mouth, removing phlegm and blood. She then blew gently in the baby’s face and… a wonderful wail.

Anne grinned as tangible relief sank Gilbert’s shoulders  and he exhaled roughly. Anne busied herself with swaddling the baby girl, ignoring how handsome Gilbert looked in that moment, with utter joy written across his face.

She had a small vision of what he would look like if present with his own child, their child.

Anne slammed that thought closed.

While Gilbert gathered up the afterbirth, depositing it in a bowl to be dealt with later, a quiet knock came at the front door. Anne gently laid the sleeping infant in Mary’s arms, and went to answer the door.

Night had fallen in the past hour, unnoticed by Anne, and in the glow of a lantern’s light stood Matthew, as well as Diana. They both had similar expressions of worry. “The doctor wouldn’t come,” Matthew reported, a rare anger in his brow.

“That’s alright,” Anne whispered, ushering them into the kitchen. “It’s all over anyway. Mary has a wonderful baby girl.”

“Oh Anne! That’s wonderful!” Diana embraced her and they giggled quietly.

“Who knew that  all those times I helped birth twins would come in handy after all?” Anne wondered, not able to keep a grin off her face.

“Well, that’s that.” Matthew had had enough talk of birthing and babies apparently. “Nothing more to be done here. Come on Diana, I’ll see you home.” They left as quietly as they had entered.

Anne set herself busy by making some tea, needing a restorative after the intensity of the past hour, and assuming Gilbert would probably need some as well.

She’d just cut into the pie when Gilbert came out, wiping his hands with a cloth, no longer bloodstained.  

“Mother and baby are both sleeping. I’ll need to keep a close eye on Mary, just to make sure the worse doesn’t happen.” He slid into a chair, exhausted.

“Here,” Anne placed a cup of earl grey and a slice of the unfortunate apple pie in front of him. “It’s a bit overdone but still edible. Just cut away the black stuff.”

“Oh bless you. I am starving.” Gilbert heartily dug into the pie. Anne took a secret thill at his moan of appreciation, despite the imperfections. She sipped at her tea, the warm steam helping relax her and she sat down on the bench next to Gilbert, half leaning against his left arm.

That’s the scene Sebastian walked in on.  Upon his arrival, Anne sat up straight, a smile curving her features. Gilbert stopped eating. With a single look, the two teenagers came to a mutual conclusion. Anne slipped quietly off to Mary’s room while Gilbert distracted Bash.

“Here Bash, come have some of this pie Anne made. It’s extra toasted, just how you like it.”

Sebastian grinned tiredly, but had enough energy to rib Gilbert. “The way I like it? More like the way you like it since anything you bake comes out the same color: black."

He’d just taken his first bite when Anne came back, cradling a bundle of cloth.

“Sebastian Lacroix,” She said grandly, pompously. “May I present to you your daughter: Delphine Hazel Lacroix. She’s been waiting to meet you.”

Bash froze; he mouthed the word ‘daughter’ several times before looking over at Gilbert, and then back at Anne.  He swallowed quickly, pushing away from his plate as Anne came to place her burden in his arms.

“Oh hey, little one! I've been dying to meet you. And you came while daddy was away, how unfair.” At the tender remarks of a new father, Anne decided to give Bash a few moments of privacy, going back to Mary’s room.

“And my wife?” She heard Bash ask just before Anne shut the door. Gilbert's reply was inaudible.

He joined her after a moment, moving to inspect the new mother.

“Delphine?” He asked, curious about the name.

“Mary told me last week that if it was a girl, she’d be named Delphine Hazel after both of their mothers. And if it was a boy…” Anne paused for dramatic effect, watching Gilbert for his reaction, ”he was to be christened James Gilbert.”

His hands stilled. Slowly, he closed his notebook where he'd been making notes.

“They would’ve named him after me?” A choked sound accompanied his query.

It was Mary who responded, voice hoarse from sleep, exhaustion, and hours of caterwauling. “You found Bash in the middle of the sea. Of course we would’ve named him after you.”

“Good thing it was girl or else your head would be too big to fit into your hat,” said Anne, teasing, hoping to lighten the mood.  It worked; Gilbert chuckled good naturedly.

Bash joined them then. Anne said her goodbyes, left a sweet kiss to Delphine’s head, and trudged back through the snow, tired but light-hearted.

Read the whole thing on Ao3

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Medicine - Jim x fem!Reader // Epilogue

Don’t look at me, I’m crying. Jim Mason deserved so much better and I love him with every bits of my being.

You can read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four and Part Five.

Description: (Y/N) loves Jim. Jim loves (Y/N). Now, all they need to do is run away.

Warnings: I ain’t spoiling shit but you might want to sit down with a couple of tissues.

Word count: 2058.

Once Jim got a hold of his twin sister and he told her about their plans of leaving the town, he faced the harsh rejection and anger she had built up. He tried again days later but her harsh refusal only helped Jim close in ever so slightly. (Y/N) was right, she couldn’t keep them both and she didn’t even need to be asked the question. Jim was her future. So as the fireworks of the 4th of July were thundering outside, Jim quietly packed his bag into his suitcase, sneaking it out to load it in his car with his surfboard. He didn’t even need to say the words to (Y/N), she was already ready to go with him.

“It’s just you and I against the words” her voice soothed the ache in his mind. Her hand avoided the large plaster she had put on her lover’s forehead after he wiped out and hit his head against the bottom of the ocean floor. “I can’t get her words out of my head, (Y/N)” he whispered, “she lied to me” his voice pinched his girl’s eyes closed while his tears and snot stained her tee shirt, his tee shirt.

“She said we didn’t need anyone else.” His breath itched in his throat while a soft sob left his chest. “I got so angry.” She laid there and listened to his pained words. “She said we had to stick to our own Tribe”. (Y/N)’s hand silently stroked his wet cheek while Jim cried against her. She held him and reassured him for hours. “We’re out own tribe, Jimmy” she whispered against his tired lips. “Tomorrow, we’re going to jump in your car and we’re going to run far, far away, okay?” (Y/N) looked for his eyes and he rewarded her with a tender kiss as they fell asleep against each other.

Jim’s hand rested on (Y/N)’s knee as he drove outside of the borders of Los Angeles, his music blasting through the radio. She had her life and supplies packed in a few backpacks resting on top of her boyfriend’s surfboard. His was neatly folded in a large suitcase next to her belongings, the trunk of his car nearly overflowing. Their car. Because they agreed they would share everything as soon as he pull her into the vehicle.

They had been on the road for hours already, shouting and singing at the top of their lung over the music Jim had picked to drive to. And quickly, the summer night was falling on them. They didn’t know where they were going but they had each other and that’s the only future they were dreaming for. (Y/N) had snuck back in her house before they ran way and she retrieved her childhood piggy bank and the fat envelop of cash her father had been stuffing for her to follow her college dreams.

“We should stop somewhere to sleep, babe” she gently whispered. He nodded. “Let’s keep out eyes peeled for a motel or something” his voice agreed. It took them longer than they had expected to find a place to rest. (Y/N) fished in her envelop to pay for the Motel night before they made their way to the room she received the key for. Jim quickly wrapped his arms around the waist of his girl as they collapsed on the bed, exhausted by the long travel they partook.

“Babe?” his voice trailed against her chest while her hands were tied in his hair. She hummed in response, planting her lips against his forehead as he laid against her. “I’m in love with you�� he gently whispered before kissing her clothed collarbones.

The words he had just spoken caused a flock of butterflies to flutter in her tummy. “These are dangerous words, Jimmy” her hand drifted from his brown locks to the crook of his cheek. “I really mean it” his ocean blue crashed in her (Y/E/C) ones. He couldn’t see that spark of the broken girl she was. She couldn’t find the hurt and the pain in his eyes either. “Promise?” her voice whispered while she brought her little finger in view. He linked his digit to hers. “Pinky Promise” he confirmed.

Jim didn’t need to hear her say it back. He just needed to stay with him. “Should we go to Las Vegas and get married?” she wondered, not letting go of his fingers from the embrace of hers. Jimmy laughed before realising the serious tone in her voice. “Would you want that?” he pulled himself up to press a chaste kiss to her lips. (Y/N) nodded against his mouth. “Alright, we’ll do that” he smiled before tucking her away in his warm arms.

The gentle snored of Jim lulled (Y/N) to sleep, their bodies still clothes in the outfit they escaped Palos Verdes in. Steadily, her heartbeat went to rest as she pulled herself impossibly closer to her boyfriend. “I’m in love with you too” she softly whisper right as her slumber took her, Jim’s arm tightening across her.

The gentle rays of the sun glided against Jim’s legs, pulling him out of his sleep. When he opened his eyes from his dream, the absence of his girl in his arms caused him to stir out of the bed. Stumbling through the sleep in his eyes, his eyes fell upon her as she was busying herself on the hob. As he walked across the kitchen, he placed a tender kiss on the forehead of his toddler happily making a mess of the scrambled eggs he had been served by his mother.

Jim’s arms reached around the swelling stomach of (Y/N), his lips crowning her with a kiss on her own forehead. “Good morning Mrs. Mason” he slurred against her hair, the smell of bacon intoxicating him. “Good morning, handsome” she let out a soft chuckle, giving a quick glance at his large hands caressing her tummy, catching a glint of the wedding band on his ring finger. “Dreamt of me?” (Y/N) teased as she pulled herself on the tip of her toes to grab a set of four plates.

“Yeah, actually. I dreamed about the day we left” he kissed her temple, pulling cutlery out of the kitchen isle before the sound of scuttling down the stairs. “Morning daddy!” a little pair of arms wrapped around his leg right as another one clutched on the other one. Jim picked up both of his older children, pulling them on their own stool around the island.

“How’s number one?” he kissed the chubby cheek of his eldest daughter, a spitting image of her mother. She gleefully giggled with a joyful “Good!” before letting her father lean to her little brother. “And number two?” he blew a big raspberry on the little boy’s cheek, having the child burst in laughers. “Am good” he giggled before Jim stumbled across the kitchen to pick up the little toddler, pulling him up above his before pieced of scrambled egg crumbles from his face. “And how’s number three?” he squeeze the little boy’s sized, tickling him. The youngest one nodded through his chuckles before being sat back on his high chair by his father.

“Everybody good?” he looked up at the assembly of brown locks sitting on their stools, ready for the breakfast (Y/N) just put on their plates. A collective “Yes” seemed to shake the whole house. His wife’s arms wrapped around his waist, her swelling tummy against his back. “Is mommy good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, rewarded by a little nod from her tired eyes. She bend back a little bit, exposing her bump “And so is number four” she smiled before Jim leaned in to pepper her stretched skin with kisses before helping her sit at her chair.

That’s how every morning looked, giggly, bubbly and so incredibly loud. The kids hurried back to their bedroom to get ready for their first day of summer holiday while Jim turned his attention to his wife. “So you said you dreamed about the day we left?” (Y/N) tenderly smiled up to her husband, his toned arms pulling her up to sit on the island so he could rest his head against her stomach. “Yeah, the best mistake we’ve ever made” he looked up at her before letting his gaze wonder around the house they had bought and moved in years ago when Number Two was just a newborn.

“I owe everything to you, you know?” he whispered as he felt the growing child wiggle inside of her womb. “That night, I threw the pills I stole from my mother” his voice confessed while (Y/N) left her hands comb through his brown locks, a trait he had passed onto all three of their children so far. “You never told me” she kissed the top of his head. “I was ashamed but on that night, I realised that it wasn’t making me happy anymore. I didn’t need antidepressant, I had you”. A tear dropped from his wife’s face to roll on his. “You were, and still is, my medicine” Jim straightened up, pulling her into a bruising kiss.

Jim had entered a few surfboarding competition and made enough money to buy a house where she made her studio. “Your art allowed us to have this house. You allowed me to sober up and get my shit together”. “Swear jar” (Y/N) interrupted, chuckling before he left a kiss on her cheek. “How much do you owe the swear jar since yesterday, honey?” he whispered, hinting and the heated night they shared the night before. “Probably about 100 buck?” she chuckled before kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re the love of my life, you know that?” Jim flashed a sincere grin, getting his wife to nod in approval. “Yeah, because you’re mine too” she kissed his lips once more before the scampering of tiny feet came back.

“Daddy! We need help!” his daughter shouted. “I told you they wouldn’t be able to put their wetsuits on alone” (Y/N) giggled at his sigh. “Why do you always have to be right?” Jim helped her off of the counter and she made her way to the bathroom to pack the multiple beach towels required. The father climbed up the stairs to his kids, helping them to put on their little gears before bringing them downstairs.

“Who’s ready to go and surf with Daddy?” (Y/N) loudly ask as she grabbed the handle to the backdoor of their house, leading down a gentle slope to the ocean. They all raised their hands, holding their own boards under their arms. Jim flashed you a gentle smile as he grabbed his old and battered board, his own wetsuit slipped up against his waist. The brunette tornado ran out to the sand under the watchful eye of their dad.

Leaning back under the shade, (Y/N) settled her small easel and pulled out her paints before watching Jim slide his arms inside the sleeves of his suit, quickly scampering to his girl to have her zip it up. He pat his chest proudly before thanking her with a kiss. He wiggled his arms slightly to adjust the suit before flashing a mischievous look at his wife. “Nice and tight” he wiggled his eyebrows and her only to hear her chuckle and pull him in what may be the hundredth kiss that day. “You wife won’t be for long if you keep on having her pop out your kids” she bit back.

Jim laughed, his arms draped over her waist, looking at her wedding band on her ring finger. “I think we should get remarried. Not in Las Vegas this time. Like, a real wedding” he whispered to her, making them sway with the rhythm of the waves. “That sounds lovely, chief” she planted a new kiss to his cheek this time. He looked over at the three children she gave him playing in the shallow water. “Look at them” he carried on, pulling her even tighter in his embrace. “Our own little tribe” they whispered at the same time, fondly watching over the three cherubs with the same knack for water as their father. (Y/N) picked up her brushes and worked on her newest piece, inspired by the loud giggles of her family playing in the water, her eyes glued on her husband.

________________________________________________________________

Tagged : @psychobitchtess, @hplotrfan​, @tea-party-at-wonderland​, @langdxn​, @hecohansen31​​ & @blakewaterxx​​

Just let me know if you would like to be tagged whenever I post a piece!

[msjr0119]

Hold On

Part 12a- New York/ The Ball

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

This is part one of New York/ The Ball... the next part will include some flashbacks.

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97 @hopefulmoonobject

******

The morning after the confession, Riley was due to be discharged. All night her thoughts lingered on Liam. She was frustrated with Leo, forcing answers out of her - but was also relieved that she told him the truth. It was like a breath of fresh air. She just needed to get today out of the way and then she could be reunited with her friends. Not knowing if it would be for short term or long term.

“Morning Blossom. You ready to go?”

“Yeah I’ve just been given my discharge letters, are you ready to be shown the sights of our wonderful city?”

“Hell yeah! Bertrand went out shopping and got you some clothes. I insisted on going, but as head of house Beaumont he felt it was his responsibility- as usual. Here... he’s just making a few phone calls. Then we can meet Beth and Leo.”

****

Leo and Beth was getting ready to meet Riley and the Beaumont’s at Central Park. It was a beautiful sunny morning, the sun highlighted all the scenery. Leo had been thinking about Riley’s confession. Since he had moved to New York, he had learnt that Riley was the most stubborn person on this planet. He knew he shouldn’t interfere but after seeing his brother broken ever since the coronation- he knew he had to do something. Liam confided in his older brother all the way through the engagement tour. Leo felt a ton of guilt- as it was due to him abdicating the throne. They had an hour before they was due to meet at the park. Picking up his phone, he decided to call his little brother- he knew what excuse to use for his reason for calling.

“Hey, Li.”

“Hi Leo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Erm, I’m just letting you know that we won’t be attending the ball. Soz bro.”

“Oh. Okay. No worries. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Speak to me later? Aren’t you going to ask....”

“I don’t understand what you mean Leo? I’m really busy with the ball preparations...”

“You won’t be busy when you hear this... I’ve got a little secret to tell you...”

“Oh no, Leo! You haven’t got Beth pregnant have you? Or are you getting married?”

“Nope...I don’t think so anyway... guess again bro.”

“I’m baffled Leo. I really haven’t got time for this.”

“It’s Riley...”

“Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay!”

“She’s more than okay. She’s in love.. she confessed it last night....”

“Okay... I’m going Leo. Take care.”

“Liam wait!”

“What?”

“Don’t you want to know who with....”

Liam went silent. He had a feeling it would break his heart- most likely the lucky man would be Drake. The father of her child. A lump formed in his throat, he didn’t want to know.

“I can see that your brain is thinking... as you haven’t answered me yet. Well, I’ll leave you thinking. I might be calling Lady Riley ‘sissy’ soon. See ya, Liam.”

Sissy? Did Leo mean she loved him? No. She only said it as a friend. Leo smirked as he hung up, not giving Liam a chance to respond. He would get them back together. Or he would die trying.

******

The five friend’s did their tour of New York. The girls were exhausted, babysitting three foreign men was not in their job description- they would have been less tired babysitting 3 newborn babies.

“Thanks girls! Today meant the world to me... I’ve taken so many photos! I’m uploading them to Instagram now!”

Riley laughed at Maxwell, he was like a kid in a candy shop- all hyped up. Everyone noticed that Riley was more exhausted than usual- maybe they shouldn’t have forced her to do too much after being discharged.

“You okay Ri? I’ll carry you to the airport if you want?”

“I’m not some invalid, Leo. But thanks. Just let’s take our time though. What time’s the flight?”

“But if Li was here you’d let him carry you? Am I right or am I wrong? And who needs a commercial flight when you’re a Prince?”

“Oh my god. You’ve brought him here haven’t you?”

“How would you react if I did? Jump into his arms? Kiss him?”

Riley bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see him yet. She was having second doubts about going back. Nervous of how he would react seeing her.

“I... I don’t know?”

“I’m messing with ya Ri. It’s only Bastien, that’s meeting us. He’s excited to see you too.”

Riley nodded at Leo, she felt a bit disheartened that Liam wasn’t there. He was always on her mind. She needed to talk to him- even if her mouth released a load of shit that didn’t make sense.

“Excuse me, I just need to call someone.”

Riley walked away from her friends, Leo had a smug expression, knowing talking about Liam would get her thinking about him.

*****

“Liam?”

“Hey Ri. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just worn out. Maxwell is a persistent one. You should check out his Instagram. I don’t know how we’re all breathing still.”

“Heh. That he is. Have you had a good day apart from that?”

“I suppose so. What have you been up to?”

“Preparing for the ball. Paperwork. Council meetings. Oh you know, boring King duties. I could almost hate Leo for abdicating.”

“You sound busier than ever. I’ll let you get off. Li.. you’re a brilliant King considering. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Thank you Lady Riley. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome, your Majesty. I’ll see you soon okay? I love you.”

Before he could respond she hung up in a flash. She’s just being friendly and polite. She can’t still be in love with me, can she?

Liam didn’t want to get his hopes up. I love you....Sissy..... He wanted her to return as soon as possible. After the ball, he decided he would personally go to New York and attempt win her back. He checked Maxwell’s Instagram profile, seeing a selfie with them all in it- her smile filled his heart with joy. I love you too Ri.

******

The night of the Ball arrived. Liam couldn’t wait for it to be over. He had arranged with the royal guards that he would be absent for a few days as he had to travel to New York. The night crept up slowly, he had hoped the event itself would go quickly- he was wondering what his friends and brother were doing at this moment in time. What Riley was doing.

“His Majesty, King Liam of Cordonia.”

Liam walked into the room, it was full of laughter, the atmosphere was better than the last ball. He walked over to Olivia, Hana and Savannah.

“Hello, Ladies.”

“Li. Nice to see you, your Majesty. It’s a good turn out.”

“Yes, considering the last time, you three were absent- in New York and didn’t tell me.”

“Li, we are sorry for that. But she’s awake now and coming back soon. Chin up.”

“I know. Sorry Liv.” Liam gazed towards the floor, avoiding contact with the Duchess.He didn’t want to be here. Ever since Riley first rung him- he just wanted to hold her protectively, and tell her everything was going to be okay. To tell her he was sorry for messing up his chance with her. To tell her that he would protect her until his dying breath. To tell her, how much she meant to him.

“Hey, what’s up? Has something happened? They are fine. Maxwell informed us all on Instagram.”

“Yeah they are. It’s just... Riley rung me last night... Liv.... She said, she lov-“

Just then there was an announcement. Liam was interrupted and couldn’t finish what he was trying to explain to Olivia. All the guests turned to the entrance of the room, not knowing what to expect. They looked over in anticipation and suspense.

“Prince Leo of Cordonia and Lady Bethany of New York.... Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford.... Lord Maxwell Beaumont.... Lady Riley Brooks...”

[minami97]

Princess Freya - Loki x Reader

A/N: My finals and May-Aug Semester id FINALLY OVER I AM A FREE PERSON. This is the final installment of my Loki and Children miniseries.  In this part, the time jump is 2 years into the future. If you want a prequel story to this entire series, don’t be shy to inbox me about it.  I shall work on the requests next ~  

Part 1 and Part 2  <---- Read them here  Masterlist Right here 

   Y/n had been sick for weeks since the last party Tony unnecessarily threw to celebrate Peter’s inauguration of joining the Avengers. Natasha noticed how sickly she looked; Loki was not around to console his lady love so Nat involuntarily became her caretaker.

“Do you need to go to the med bay?” Natasha asked while leaning at the door of the toilet.

“No. I do not need to go to the med bay. It’s probably some bad seafood I ate from Tony’s party for Peter.” Y/n replied with a sluggish voice as she threw up in the toilet.

“I’ll call your sister, she may be able to help.”

“Please don’t disturb Jenna.” “She’s Bu-” Before the h/c woman could continue, she puked into the toilet bowl for the Nth time.

“Yeah… I’m calling Jenna.” Natasha replied while typing Jenna’s number on her phone.

-Somewhere in Queens-

“What’s up Natasha, did something happen to Y/n?” Jenna answered her call.

‘Y/n had been sick for weeks and she refused to go to the med bay for a check up.’

“I’ll be at Manhattan by evening with Jesse.” She hung up on Natasha and went down to the pharmacy to buy all the pregnancy tests she could find.

-Back to the Avengers Tower-

“For the last damn time Nat, I’m not really sick!” Y/n shouted from the toilet bowl that she was vomiting from.

“Yeah, keep denying that. You’ve been by the toilet bowl for the whole day.” “And. I’ve already called Jenna, she’s coming here by evening.”

Y/n had been vomiting what she ate back into the toilet; Nat made Steve to buy liquid food for Y/n.

“Where is Loki? Isn’t it his job to take care of you?” Natasha grumbled as she gently patted the back of the hurling h/c woman.

“He’s in Asgard with Thor.” Y/n replied.

"Wow… such a gentleman." Natasha sarcastically replied.

   By evening, Jenna and Jesse arrived at the tower. Natasha brought her to see Y/N who have not left the toilet the entire day.

"Nat, take Jesse to play with Steve. I need to be alone with my sister." Jenna calmly told her.

"C'mon little guy. Let's go make fun of uncle Steve. " Nat took Jesse's hand and led him to the living room.

Once they were out of sight, Jenna handed her a bag full of instant pregnancy tests.

"Jen… I assure you, I am not pregnant." Y/n told her sister with a disbelief tone.

"Do the test and then we will talk." Jenna told her sister with a nonchalant tone.

Ten minutes passed, Y/n came out of the toilet holding a test that indicates a positive sign.

"Jen… I am pregnant." She let out a squeak.

The older L/n pulled her sister in a tight embrace, “You’ll be a great mom, Seeing how you interacted with Jesse.”

“Who is the father though? Please don’t tell me it’s Tony.” “I’ll kill him if it is.”

“Jenna. I assure you, it is not Tony." She calmly assured her sister.

“who is the father then?” “It's... Loki.”

There was a loud thud of a hammer making impact on the floor; both of them turned their heads toward the source of the noise. Y/n had a horrified look on her face.

“Thor! Get back here!” She called out to her future brother-in-law.

The Asgardian ignored the distressed calling of y/n and skedaddled to where his friends were at.

"Let's just pray he didn't break the news before you." Jenna spoke with a surprised tone.

-With the others and Jesse-

“Why is Jesse here? It's not Winter break yet.” Tony asked as he observed the 7-year-old.

“Jenna brought him over. Y/n had been sick lately.” Nat replied with a casual shrug.

Everyone got invested with the statement Nat gave; before Steve could ask for more information, Thor ran in with the dumbest grin he had.

“Friends! I have discovered something!” Thor excitedly exclaimed.

“Did you discover how to travel from here to Asgard without ruining the patio?” Tony asked sarcastically.

“No, not that. It’s about lady y/n!” He replied with a toothy grin.

“Thor, may I warn you if you spread something false about Y/n. I will hurt you without hesitation.” Loki warned.

“It’s nothing false brother. It’s good news.” Thor replied.

“Do tell pointbreak. I’m curious. We all are.” Tony chimed in with sheer curiosity.

“She’s…” “Thor! Don’t you dare!” Jenna shouted at the blonde oaf.

“What the fuck is wrong with Y/n?” Tony screamed in frustration.

“Language. There is a child present.” Steve shot back with his signature catchphrase.

Everyone started arguing, Jesse was still minding his own business with his new toy set that Tony got for him. The argument got louder and it irritated both Y/n and Jenna; the younger L/n looked over to her sister for the approval to break the news. Jenna nodded her head to stop the ongoing argument.

“If you guys want to know so badly… FINE! I’M PREGNANT! You guys happy now?!” Y/n shouted which cause everyone to be completely silent.

“So… Who did you fuck?” “TONY!” “LANGUAGE!” “THERE IS A CHILD HERE!”

“He is the love of my life.” Y/n replied.

“Darling, do you mind if we talk in private?” Loki asked.

“Oh sure. We’ll go to my room, so none of them could interrupt us.” She replied with a smile.

After both Loki and Y/n left to discuss the big news drop, the rest went on meeting mode while multitasking on making sure Jesse did not get hurt or touched something he should not touch.

“Shall we plan a baby shower or wedding first?” Tony asked without hesitation.

“Baby shower? I’m pretty sure Thor wants to plan the wedding.” Natasha replied while glancing at a really happy Thor.

“Let’s not make it a really big baby shower. Will have it just all of us.” Jenna suggested.

“Of course. I’ll handle that. No media, no paparazzi.” Tony replied with a grin.

Everyone was throwing suggestions here and there, Thor wandered off to find his brother and future sister in law.

-Loki and Y/n-

“Darling, you’re pregnant? When?” Loki asked as he placed his hand on her stomach.

“It was around Peter’s inauguration party. We had sex.” She replied with a smile.  

“I was planning to tell you after Jenna made me take the test. Thor overheard it …”  

Loki watched his lady love and he decided to shut her rambling by kissing her gently, assuring her he was not mad.

“Are we having a boy or a girl?” He asked eagerly.

“I don’t know yet. We should have a doctor’s appointment to have a consultation.” She replied Loki hummed softly.

“Shall we look up on names?” Loki asked while caressing her stomach.

“I am thinking Freya or Frea if we’re having a girl. Sigurd or Fenrir if we’re having a boy. Although Sigurd is a better name.” She rambled, Loki just looked at her with pure love and affection.

   Unbeknownst to the lovers; Thor eavesdropped on their conversations while letting out a small smile knowing Loki would be a good father.  While the first nine months of Y/n’s pregnancy was hell for Loki as she had all the weirdest cravings at midnight and eats the weirdest food combination ever.

“Love, are you sure you want mango slices drizzled with chocolate? Cause that is the most absurd thing I’ve heard.” Loki asked while giving Y/n a weird look.

“Yes. Our child wants it, so please go get them.” She begged.

Loki gave in and went to get the food she requested; everyone at the tower was competing to be the godparent of the unborn infant. It was amusing for Y/n to watch her friends trying to one-up another.

“Sooooooooo, Who’s gonna be the godparent of your little spawn?’ Tony asked as he slid in to sit next to Y/n.

“I’m not telling you. And, my child is not a spawn mind you.” She replied.

While Jenna and Thor came to the terms that both of them will be an equal leveled uncle and aunt to their unborn niece or nephew. Which we all know Thor would try to one-up Jenna in that sense. As for Jesse, he’ll be the big brother to his younger cousin.

-Timeskip, 9th month of pregnancy-

     Y/n was sitting comfortably on the couch reading on Norse Mythology until she felt water leaking from her lady parts and screamed on top of her lungs, “THE BABY IS COMING! OH MY GOD!”

Everyone dropped their things and transported Y/n to the hospital; Natasha was tasked to contact Loki and Thor however, they were out of reach.

“Of all days, it had to be today.” Nat grumbled.

Steve contacted Jenna was staying in Queens and was on her way uptown with both Peter and Jesse on board. At the hospital, Y/n was rushed to the delivery room to be in labor. On Nat’s side after multiple ways on trying to get in touch which both Loki and Thor; she managed to contact them.

“Y/n’s is having the baby. Both of you better get your asses to the hospital!”

Both Loki and Thor made it to the hospital and saw everyone there; Tony ushered Loki to the delivery room.

“He’s the fiance of Y/n.” Tony told the nurse.

The nurse let Loki into the room after sterilizing him; Y/n was in intense labor. She reached out to his hand and gripped it like her life depends on it.

“Push Ms. L/n.” The doctor instructed her.

“I’m not letting you getting me pregnant ever again!” She hissed.

  Several hours later of pain and lots of screaming; Y/n gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Both Loki and her were content.

“Little Freya. Welcome to the world.” She whispered while giving her forehead a small kiss.

“Do you want to hold our little Freya?” She asked him.

“Can I?” He asked.

The nurse took Freya from Y/n gently and placed the newborn in the arms of her father. Once Freya was in the arms of her father, she lets out a small gurgle acknowledging her father.

“My beautiful princess.” He whispered softly with a content smile on his face.

     Y/n was moved to the normal ward, everyone was there anticipating the newborn.

“Is it a prince or a princess?” Tony asked curiously.

“A Princess.” Both of them replied.

“You owe me money Tony.” Natasha gleefully declared.

The nurse brought in Freya in her small bed; everyone fawned over the little babe. Jesse was being the protective big brother trying to keep everyone in line to see his little cousin sister.

“What’s her name?” Thor asked.

“Freya. Freya Lokidottir.” Loki replied.

“Well, Princess Freya’s going to get spoiled by her loving parents, aunts, and uncles.” Tony joked.

The little infant let out a snorting noise to acknowledge Tony’s statement that made everyone let out a laugh.

End

Extra Ending

“If any boys her age wanted to court her, they’ll have to go through me.” Loki grumbled.

“Oh please, that’s like another 10 years down the line. Let her grow up normally first.” Y/n retorted.

“Love, I’ve seen you in your worst state because of men who aren’t me. I want the best for my princess.”

“Will discuss this again once she turns 13. For now, let her grow up happy and healthy.” She reasoned.

Freya let out a whine agreeing with her mother; which made Loki sigh in defeat.

“Once she turns 13.” He mumbled.