Tumgik
#but sooner might not be until next weekend and that frustrates me since I had an ideal update schedule I want to maintain
wutheringmights · 2 years
Text
.
7 notes · View notes
thedavesnews · 2 years
Text
9,960 +/- 30 seconds to Mars
Completed the 2nd half marathon of the season (and November) last weekend. Neither was anything to write home about. I generally give myself a break for challenge weekends at Disney since I do run 19.3 miles instead of the normal 13.1. That said...I was a few minutes shy of 3 hours for Wine and Dine. It's one of those races I wouldn't mind forgetting sooner than later.
Space Coast official time came in at 2:46 and change. Just shy of 30 minutes over my personal best. It was hot but I just didn't' run a good race. Stomach cramps early on really killed me after a blistering first mile. That best ever time of 2:18 wasn't even a perfect run. I started to falter toward the end or I might have been uber close to 2 hours. It's one of those things that I've been chasing ever since.
I started long distance running pretty late in my lifetime and as such I have often wondered if I missed my chance at peak performance. Obviously, with serious training more than just pre-run season I could probably achieve some better times but what could have been the fastest time I could have given earlier on in my able bodied life? Questions like these can either haunt or drive.
There is something about races that are different than training. Especially Disney races. Even after a full season behind me I still get the same feelings. Prior to the race day I get a bit of nerves regardless of how well I trained. There is always that little nibble in the back of my brain that I didn't do enough to prep for this race.
Race day brings it's own thoughts. Did I forget anything? Did I drink enough water or was the protein bar and banana enough to power me through the entire distance today? As fate would have it I did forget my headphones for Space Coast but had plenty of time to double back and grab them. 13 miles for me without some sort of head entertainment like a book, or preferably fast paced music, would have been an utter nightmare. If I can focus on something other than the run I will ultimately get better results. The couple of training runs I did without music were just awful. I get mentally bored after anything over 5k and that equates to less than positive results.
Post race brings about the discomfort of muscle aches and occasionally random other pains around the body. It's important to take in the moment and accomplish but at the same time you have to make sure you're taking care of the body and getting nutrients and liquids back in. If you're all about the medal it's nice to have it around your neck while you down water, sports drink and whatever random fare they include with the post race banana. Space Coast is eggs and mac and cheese while Disney is random gummies, cheese and pretzels.
If you're about the time it can be fantastic on the good runs and just frustrating on the bad runs. No one wants to go backward in performance. Here's hoping that the next 2 halfs are better conditions. It's not just the conditions but warm temps do not help at all. It's hard to combat 70s over 13 miles. Space Coast had be questioning some things. Ultimately, I think I can finish this season strong and while running is not my favorite thing to do I fully anticipate at least 1 more season of Disney races at minimum. When I heard the Disneyland race was happening next season I was super hyped and now I'm kind of pondering the feasibility of it.
I have a partner who pushes me. Every time she gets up to run I know I need to run. It's rough. I don't enjoy early rising. Sleep is the best thing humans ever figured out how to do. 10/10 would highly recommend.
Recovery time after the race weekends varies. Some races, I'm up and going almost immediately and others I need to just chill for days. No rhyme or reason that I can trace back to make things more enjoyable quicker. All in all I want to keep doing the races until I can't. I see the older runners and it does give me a bit of hope that I can do them well into the future. Only time can tell.
-Dave
We could spend the night and watch the earth come up
0 notes
cjsinkythoughts · 3 years
Text
FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family
Word Count: 1804
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury
Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson
A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!
Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.
Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!
FATWS Masterlist
cjsinkythoughts Masterlist
Tumblr media
You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.
But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few  voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.
“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”
The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”
You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.
His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”
You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”
“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”
Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”
*************************
Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.
“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”
You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.
“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”
“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”
You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”
“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.
“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.
“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-” 
“Y/N! You’re back!”
You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”
She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”
“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”
“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.
“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”
“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”
A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”
“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”
You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.
“You’re back early.”
“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”
He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”
You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”
“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”
“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”
You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”
He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”
“You’re a bully, you know that?”
“I’m just sayin’!”
“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”
His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”
“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”
“Is that why you came back late?”
Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”
He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot.  “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”
Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”
“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”
You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.
What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?
You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.
With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.
All Works Taglist (Open):
@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​
291 notes · View notes
43sparrows · 4 years
Text
satisfied - {Five x Reader AU}
Read Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 / Part 3.5 & Part 4
Warning: a rollercoaster from start to end
Word Count: 4,512
Note: Here it is. The final installment. I'm also impressed I've managed to pull off my own little goal which was to make each chapter longer as we go deeper and deeper into this relationship. It was fun to write, and I hope you stick with me for my next series
You've ignored four of his calls.
Well, technically, you've only ignored one, deleting the message from the answering machine after a short but brutal internal war. The other three times he's tried to get in touch with you were on the typical ripped out notes taped to your mirror. Each one was plucked down, scanned for words you didn't really expect to find (sorry, mistake, asshole), and then tossed into the waste bin.
You know that even as fucked up as your last encounter was, he deserves more--an explanation or at least a clean break--but you can't bring yourself to give him either. And you hate that about yourself. You hate it because you know why you can't do it, and the feeling that comes from this fact is worse than any of the ways Five's ever made you feel.
So, you don't call him. Instead, you work to erase the little traces of him you find in your apartment and in your thoughts until at last you're faced with something you can't just stick in the garbage: the man himself.
He's standing at the foot of your bed, hands on his hips and brow knit together. The look stops you dead in your tracks as you enter the room.
"You're avoiding me."
You feel like you're going to throw up. The thought briefly crosses your mind that if you do, you might get out of having this conversation. But instead you take a few more steps into the room and close the door behind you. When you face him again, you find his finger tapping at his waist. Your eyes remain on the finger instead of his face and you stay silent. This isn't an admission of guilt, but he seems to take it as one.
"Why?" he demands.
Objectively, you know the words. You're proficient in more than one language, so frankly you have more than enough words to use. But you can't seem to piece them together quite right, and so, no sound comes out. Instead you turn your gaze to your right and it lands on the candle on your bookshelf. The flame flickers, dancing in a breeze you can't feel yourself. You feel like there's a metaphor somewhere in there.
"Look--"
"Why would you do that to me, Five?" Your voice is soft, but the interruption effectively cuts him off. If you were looking, you'd imagine you'd see his eyes squint at you in frustrated confusion. His mouth would be slightly open, and you'd want to kiss it closed. So you can't face him. Your gaze stays fixated on the candle.
"Do what?"
You wet your lips as if that will help get out what you need to say. It doesn't work, but it does buy you a bit of time and makes the tension in the room that much more palpable. You wonder if that's what's guiding the flame through its movements.
"You brought me to Howl's just to fuck me in front of my ex."
Five's quiet now, and you chance a look at him from the corner of your eye. He doesn't look frustrated, but he does look like he's working a math problem and each time he comes to the end he gets a different solution.
He notices you're looking and tries to catch your eye, so you turn back to watch the candle burn it's way down the wick.
"You said you wanted something to shove in his face."
You don't remember saying that, but it's true. You did want something to shove in his face. But not like this. You shake your head at him.  "Not that." Your voice is both airy and tight, and it's not a good sign. "That wasn't anything worth shoving in his face."
"What?" There's heat in Five's voice now, and you can tell that something you've said has pushed a button. "He's working two jobs so he can get married to some boring elementary school teacher, and you're having mindblowing sex with the closest thing this city has to a goddamn superhero. Who came out on top there?"
"You," you say, simply.
"Me?" he repeats, and you finally find the strength to turn and face him. His eyebrows have shot up so high, you're surprised they're not touching his hairline.
"You're the one who got what they wanted out of that show Five. Because he's still happily getting married having been proven right that I'm nothing more than a call girl dumb enough to work for free."
Five narrows his eyes at you, and there's nothing confused about the look. Instead, he looks downright mean. You realize in that look, that he's missed the point completely. He's not listening to you. He's not seeing you. And you're starting to realize that he may not even want to. The realization hurts. It fucking hurts. Like you're being ripped apart from the inside. And the worst part is that you really should have known this.
Before he can get any words out, you beat him to the punch. It's the only way this argument was ever going to end.   "I can't do this anymore, Five."
The look shifts into one of incredulousness and then disgust and then stoniness. And then, without a word, he vanishes.
You feel like you've collapsed on the inside.
Apparently, you look like it too.
Your boss had taken one look at you and tried to send you back home. You'd told her that you were fine to work and made it half the day before she insisted you looked truly terrible and needed to go home. And maybe see a doctor.
Judging by the look on your roommate's face, you look even worse now that you've made it home.
"Are you alright?" she asks, peering up at you from the couch.
"Got sent home early," you mumble. It's not exactly an answer to her question, but you hope that it gets you out of having to talk anymore. It's not that you don't love your roommate. But you'd rather crawl in bed and stay there for a month if it meant that you didn't have to socialize with any humans in the meantime.
You successfully shuffle all the way into your room and drop your things next to your desk before the TV shuts off. Your roommate's footsteps echo throughout the apartment, and then there's silence and the feeling of someone hovering in the doorway behind you.
"I'm worried," she says, and you sigh, your shoulders dropping as you turn around.
"I'm fine."
She hums a no and gestures at your room.  You've let piles of dirty clothes take over most of the floor. There's about six different cups scattered on different surfaces, all with varying levels of water in them. Only one of the candles is lit. Her eyes find yours again, and you can't help but look away. "You've been locked in here all weekend. And most of last week too. I know he hasn't been by. He hasn't even called. What's up?"
You shrug helplessly, and the same way they do any time you think of Five, your eyes betray you and start to water.
"You don't know?" she presses, and you shake your head, looking off to the side, trying to get yourself under control. She walks into the bedroom then, coming around to sit on the edge of your bed and stare up at you. "Talk to me, Y/N. Seriously, I'm worried about you, and I don't know what to do."
"I--" your voice feels too thick, and you're having a hard time keeping it even as it comes out. "It's over." Your roommate's eyebrows draw down in sympathy as do the corners of her mouth.
"He ended it."
You shake your head and swallow. "I did." The pitch is too high now.
"Why?" your roommate's voice softens in response to yours, and it's then that you break, face crumpling, tears falling, and a broken sob escaping. She doesn't say anything more, instead rising from the bed and wrapping her arms around you from the side, leaning her head against your shoulder.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time to stop crying. Then again, any time spent crying over a boy who you weren't dating and never made any promises in terms of feelings or commitments was embarrassing. But, when you do slow down, you finally find the words to tell her everything. What happened while she was away. Your trip to the bar and what you discovered. Your fight. She listens and doesn't say anything, instead doing the one thing that you need most from her: she doesn't let go.
You look less like shit.
But you still feel awful.
It's been just over a week since your fight with Five, and you feel like you should be over it by now. The disappointment, the embarrassment, the hurt. But you're not. Sure, you don't exactly feel like an open wound anymore. But you feel a bit like someone's just put a single layer of gauze on top, and that's not nearly enough.
So, you decide there's only one course of action that will make you feel better on this Saturday morning: Griddy's Doughnuts.
Just walking into the shop makes you feel lighter. The sweet smell of the different glazes and jellies wafts through the air, and kids are crammed up against the doughnut case and perched on stools with their parents. Walking into the place is like a time warp--it feels exactly the same way it did all those years ago when you were the kid tugging at her mom's hand.
And then you make accidental eye contact, and it all shatters. Because the brown eyes you're staring into belong to none other than Vanya Hargreeves.
You pull over to the side of the line to do the right thing and make brief small talk. If it hadn't been for two occasions where she'd come home sooner than planned, you wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't recognize you. But this girl's seen you half naked and spoken to you several times over the phone. She knows more of you than you wish she did. She probably feels the same way. Regardless of the willingness either of you have to engage in this conversation, she's coming over, bag of doughnuts and tray of coffee in hand.
"Y/N, hi," she greets, offering a nervous looking smile.
"Hi," Your own attempt at a smile is disastrous. It's too tight and it doesn't reach your eyes. It hardly even reaches your cheekbones. "Seems like we had the same idea for breakfast."
She nods, looking down at the bag in her hand. "Yeah. We have this family tradition to grab Griddy's whenever one of us--"  she stops then, seeming to remember who she's talking to and restarts with a safer question. "How are you?"
Vanya's voice sounds the way Griddy's smells--like nostalgia and comfort and it makes you ache inside. You want to know how her sentence was going to end, but you want out of this conversation more.
"I'm fine," It comes out more of an exhale than a word, and she seems to see right through it.
She nods, her smile taking on a sad quality. "You and Five both then. Guess we did get the same memo about Griddy's."
A silence seeps in between the two of you, and you hate the way this feels--like you're drowning in the middle of a swimming pool and trying not to call attention to it.
"I don't want to pry--" She must see you go rigid because she seems to decide on a different route. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry it didn't work out. I know you guys cared a lot about each other."
You don't know how to respond to that. You're not sure if you want to be the fool who fell in love with her friends with benefits or the slut who was just in it for phenomenal sex or the bitch who points out Vanya's brother is a heartless bastard and doesn't deserve doughnuts because he clearly never gave a damn. She must catch the crease between your eyebrows, your lips instinctively puckering into a qualification, because she saves you from responding.
"Look, I know Five can be...a lot. And I don't know what he did, but I can tell it was big and it wasn't good." She looks like she wants to reach out and touch you, but her hands--thankfully--are full. "But you should know, he checks the answering machine every day."
It stings. He still thinks you'll call.
And you almost have.
You can't look at her open and earnest face any longer, so you look down at the ground and nod dumbly. "Thanks." She stays in front of you, and you can feel that she wants to break the silence again.  You swallow hard and force yourself to meet her gaze once more. "Well, I don't want your coffees to get cold. It was nice to run into you, though, Vanya."
She nods, her mouth settling into a line. "Take care of yourself, ok?" she asks, and you lift your lips into half a smile because it's just about as much as you can manage. She nods once more and then turns and leaves the doughnut shop. You get in line.
Your roommate decides it's time for you to leave the house.
You point out that you leave the house almost every day.
She argues that leaving for work doesn't count. It's been two weeks and you need to have fun.
You insist that if you're going to have fun, it's not going to be on a Tuesday.
She informs you that there will be dollar tacos where she's going.
That's how you end up at Don Pablo's at eight o'clock on a Tuesday night with your roommate and two other friends all crowded around a table. It's hard to say what it is, the dollar tacos, the strong margaritas, the good company or the Spanish covers of pop songs, but whatever the reason, you're feeling lighter than you have. You're even laughing as your friend, Faith, updates you on the latest antics of the passive aggressive post-it queen at her work.
"That is...one hell of a story," someone to the right of your table says, and the eyes of the group look up to a lanky man with shoulder length brown hair. He's wearing a mesh crop top that sparkles a little under the light and leather pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, a fact that's captured Sam's attention.
The man pushes off from where he's leaning against the coat rack, and it's a testament to Faith's storytelling prowess that not a single one of you noticed him lurking there until this point. He motions for Faith to budge over, and the motion is so familiar and friendly that she scoots without protest.
"So," he says, resting his chin in both of his palms. "Which one of you radiant young ladies is Y/N?"
The words are objectively skeevy, but much like his admittance to the table, this earns nothing but a few snorts and smiles. He's also smiling like he's in on the joke, and it's genuine and sparkling rather than leering. You're half tempted to tell him, but your roommate stops you.
"Why?" Nasreen asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she's the one person who will save us from my brother's broody pining," he says with a faux pout.
Nasreen's eyebrows lift even higher. "Isn't it a little middle school of your brother to send you over here for him?"
He chuckles and lifts his head, shaking a finger at your roommate. She grins back at him. "Yes, it would be, but he very expressly told me not to come over here. I'm here looking for Y/N of my own free will." He glances around the table and steals a chip out of your basket, dipping it into the salsa. "Technically," he says, crunching down on the chip. "I'm risking my life for this."
Sam laughs and the man grins, reaching for another chip. "It's true. He said, and this is a direct quote, 'Klaus, if you go over there, I will drive this tiny umbrella through your eyeball until it hits that thing you call a brain and puts us all out of our misery.'" He pops the chip into his mouth and gives a dramatic eye roll. "Very eloquent, my brother."
Your friends laugh at this, even Nasreen, but you grow cold. Because you know one person with a brother named Klaus.
"So," Klaus bounces his shoulders once, sitting up straighter. "Who am I sacrificing myself for?" He looks around the table pleasantly just as Sam glances at you. It's a small motion, but Klaus latches onto it. "Ah," Klaus says gesturing toward you. "I'm going to need you to come fuck my brother."
Faith spits out her margarita. Sam barks out a sudden laugh. Nasreen blinks and draws back into the booth.
"I know he's an emotionally stunted little asshole, but he's been even more insufferable than usual, and Vanya says it's because of you." He drops his hand onto the table, relaxing back into the booth. "Obviously, he's the one at fault--you seem like an angel. But it would mean the world if you would come fix our little shitheel."
It's the name Vanya that brings Nasreen up to speed.
"I'm vetoing this right now," your roommate says, shaking her head. Klaus presses his hands together and points them at her.
"Your objection has been heard and noted, but let's hear from Y/N."
All of the eyes on the table are on you, and dollar tacos isn't enough to redeem this moment. You shake your head slowly. "No."
"No," Klaus repeats. He seems surprised.
"No, I'm tired of being fucked over so Five can feel better. No." Your roommate's approval radiates over you, strengthening the feeling. Faith and Sam straighten up at the mention of Five.
Klaus heaves a sigh and leans back to rest his head on the top of the booth's cushion. "I don't blame you, but I don't want to go back over there," he says to the ceiling. "Not only is he going to publicly murder me, but he'll probably drive me up this stucco painted wall with his moodiness before he does it." He lolls his head to turn to Faith. "Can I stay here with you?"
Faith laughs a little, looking at the rest of you.
"Depends," your roommate says, leaning on the table.
"On?" Klaus raises an eyebrow.
"If the next round is on you."
When you stumble into your apartment, it's a little past 1 am, and you're not so much as drunk as you are high on a good time. Allowing Klaus to stay at your table had been the best decision you'd made in the past...month? Maybe longer. Not only had he supplied you with enough good stories to take your mind far away from Five (whose gaze you could feel once you knew it was there) but Klaus had also pulled each of you up to salsa with him despite the fact that it wasn't a dance bar at all. Still, several other couples from different tables had followed his lead, and you'd allowed yourself to be spun and turned about until your legs were ready to collapse.
It's hard to imagine that anything can bring yourself down from this feeling as you place a kiss on your roommate's cheek and thank her for dragging you out.
Then again, you hardly imagined Five would be popping into your bedroom at 1:30 in the morning.
His hair is wild, eyes are hazy, and he looks more disheveled than you've ever seen him. "You were there. You were there and Klaus came over, and what the fuck?"
You've never heard so many nonsensical words come out of his mouth.
"Are you...drunk?" you ask, dumping your clothes at the door to your closet.
"Figured that one out," he says, gesturing flailingly at you.  "I got drunk because that's what you do when the one person in this world who doesn't make your life worse won't even look across a bar at you." He says.
You, for your part, remain silent, head tilted, trying to make sense of what's going on--how much of this is him and how much of it is the alcohol. Because you can't believe he's this upset--Five doesn't seem to do emotions other than stressed, horny, and smug.
He sways a bit. "You were right there. Right there. And you didn't even look at me. Not even when fuckin' Klaus went over."
"I didn't realize you cared that much," you say quietly.
Five scoffs. "Why else would I spend five days hunting down your ex just so you could get your closure."
You blink several times at this fact, but you don't have time to formulate some sort of response before he continues. "Do you know how many Jordan Millers there are in this city?"
"You--what?" The words come out as hardly more than a disbelieving whisper.
"Five days and perfect planning to get you there and have it all work out at just the right moment, only for you to end it. No reason. You just ended it."
You swallow hard and then fix him with a stare. Because he's right--he should at least have a reason. "I didn't end it because of Howl's." You pause, and he takes it as the end of the sentence because he continues on.
"I don't even know what happened. I keep trying to work it out. It's all I can fucking think about, and I can't figure it out. You wanted just sex, so I gave you just sex. You wanted to show up your ex, so I made sure you could show up your ex." His voice takes on a hysterical quality as he starts to pace the room. "What am I missing? Please, enlighten me. Because Vanya and Allison are up my ass about trying to fix things with you, and hell if I know where to begin."
"You can't fix this," you shake your head and then wet your lips, steeling yourself up for the most embarrassing truth. "I ended it because I wanted more, and you didn't."
He pauses and then lets out a manic laugh. "So you left because you wanted to be with me?"
"I left because I thought it was just sex to you, and that's all it would ever be."
"That's all it was supposed to be," he says, not stopping his pacing.  "That's what we both wanted."
"Wanted," you repeat, quietly. "Wants change."
He lets out a manic laugh. "Oh, I know that," he says and stalks closer to you. "Why else would I be here right now, still trying to figure out what you want so I can give it to you instead of fucking any of the girls who came up to me tonight?"
You blink a few times, and this has to be an exhaustion induced delusion, because there's no way he's saying what you think he's saying.
"What are you talking about?" you ask, quietly. He doesn't answer, instead closing the remainder of the distance, pulling your body flush against yours and kissing you.
He tastes like margaritas. His kiss is as intoxicating as the alcohol itself, the sensation rushing through your body and urging you to relax into him. He's only kissed you four times before, and all of those were different. In those kisses his hands ran over your body, pushing at your clothes, his frame walking you back towards the bed. But now he's solid, and his hands are still, a vice keeping you close to him as his lips remain on yours.
It takes an extraordinary strength of will to extract yourself from his kiss. "Don't do this," you whisper, your lips brushing his since he's chased after your kiss.
"Why?" he pulls you even closer, pressing another kiss to your lips.
"Because you don't mean this," you say, bringing your hands in between your bodies to push him away. "You're drunk and you're lonely and…"
"And I want you," he says, not moving, ducking his head to kiss you again.
"No you don't."
The words make him step back angrily. "I don't know how to make it any fucking clearer," he says, raking a hand through his hair. "I want you. I want you Y/N. I wish I didn't. I wish things would go back to being just sex. Because my life was so much easier then. But they can't. Not for you and not for me. You want more. I want you. So why won't you just accept that and let me kiss you?"
As far as romantic speeches go, it's pretty shitty.
"Fine," you say.
It's an equally shitty romantic response.
But then he's kissing you again, and you let yourself lean into the hope that maybe, come morning, he'll still mean what he said.
When you wake up, Five's gone.
The other side of the bed is tucked in tightly, like he was never even there. But you know he was. Because if he wasn't, there's no reason for your whole body to ache inside and out. It's tempting to stay in bed and throw yourself a mix of pity party and roast. After all, last night you exhibited top tier dumbassery.
But you're tired of feeling like shit. So you drag yourself out from under the covers and towards your door, hoping that some coffee and a warm breakfast will help you to feel better.
You pad out the door and down the short hallway to come out to the kitchen where your roommate is pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“My head hurts like a sonofabitch,” she says, reaching into the cabinet to grab down a mug for you. “You?”
You give a rueful smile and head over to stand next to her by the coffeepot. “Surprisingly, I’m ok. Better than yesterday.”
“Good,” she says, filling your mug up.
Your toilet flushes, and both you and your roommate look at each other. The silent question is answered not long after as there, appearing in the doorway, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking a bit disheveled, is Five.
It’s the first time your roommate has ever seen him.
“Uh…hello?” your roommate says, and Five nods at her, moving forward to steal your mug of coffee. He lifts it to his lips and takes a long sip.
“You’re…here,” you say dumbly, and he nods, drinking some more coffee.
“It’s where I want to be.”
Your roommate looks between the two of you. “And you are…”
“Five,” he says over his coffee, and your roommate looks between the two of you wildly before finally settling you with a significant look.
“You’re going to have to make more coffee, and explain all of this to me,” she says, circling a finger at Five.
You look at him, a small twist of a smile on your lips. “Fine with me.”
898 notes · View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
Text
I Got You (Part 2)
Tumblr media
Summary: The reader has a quieter morning with Jensen while trying to convince him that he needs to talk to his family sooner rather than later if he wants to start feeling better...
Part 1
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Word Count: 5,900ish
Warnings: language, angst, lying, mention of alcoholism, fluff
A/N: Might do more of this, who knows. Enjoy!
_______
Jensen was asleep when you woke, hair messy, covers tucked up under his chin. He’d probably be hungover. He normally was if he’d drunk too much, even if he threw up. Very gently you ran your hand through his hair, surprised when he rolled over to face you and snuggled into your side. He still seemed so small, so unlike the guy that was normally one to shove his crap down inside. He let stuff out in acting he’d told you once. He let it out when he did boxing or lifted weights. He let it out alone. It seemed to work for him so you never thought much of it.
Occasionally you found him upset though. When he was eighteen and almost quit acting. You flew out on a Thursday night after class and stayed with him that weekend, helping him to stop freaking the fuck out. God he freaked out more than most everyone knew. Laid back, easy going, go with the flow, that was the image everyone had of him. The anxiety used to be bad but you knew he acted through it, pretended he was cool with it all and it worked pretty well for him. You could still tell though when he got quiet and let other people speak that it was still there. It was hardwired into him. But it was better than it used to be.
But for the first time in his life you were fairly certain he was anxious to see his family and that was enough to send you into new territory with him.
“Don’t,” he mumbled when you stopped moving your hand through his strands. You started moving again, his face burrowed down under your arm.
“You’re okay,” you whispered, hoping he’d have fallen back asleep. Instead he peeled open his eyes and turned his head up, staring at you with big green eyes. “I love you.”
He smiled and moved his head up to your shoulder, reaching his arm across your waist and holding you tight.
“I love you too,” he said. You leaned your head down and kissed his temple, Jensen squirming a little. “I give you the forehead kisses.”
“You’re just gonna have to get used to me kissing you all sorts of places,” you smirked.
“I am very okay with that,” he said, a softer look about him. “It’s been a bit since I’ve been with someone.”
“I know,” you said as you played with his hair.
“You okay? With the whole Andrew situation?” he asked quietly. You nodded and he stared at you, trying to hide the fact he was happy Andrew was gone but still concerned you were hurt.
“I was on the way out the door with him anyways. He couldn’t respect you and if he can’t do that, he has no place in my life. It’d be like me asking you to give up Jared. It’s just insane.”
“To be fair Jared and Gen are some of your best friends too,” chuckled Jensen.
“But you get my point. Relationships are give and take and he always took. Andrew was tolerable until he wasn’t. I don’t want to spend my life tolerating my husband most of the time and hating him the rest. I’d rather love him and occasionally tolerate, you know,” you said.
“Not for any particular reason but do I have any habits that...annoy you?” he asked. 
“Yes. But I know I can annoy you too. Don’t worry about you. You’re different,” you said. He stared at you and you ran your thumb over his cheek. “Jensen think of it this way. I don’t expect to always like my husband 100% of the time. He’ll piss me off and annoy me and all of that. But I do expect to always love him. Andrew...that never happened with him. But there is someone in my life that even when he frustrates me or bugs me I’ve never not loved. He’s different. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said. He leaned up and kissed you, cupping your cheek with a gentle little smile on his face. 
“We waited twenty five years. We can take this slow, okay?” you said. He nodded and lay back in bed, tracing his finger over the curves of your face.
“Always wondered what it’d be like to do this...wake up next to you in the morning,” he said. He booped your nose and smiled. “You’re so soft.”
“I moisturize,” you said, Jensen chuckling. “How was it that I learned how to have a proper skincare regime from you? Shouldn’t this have been the other way around?”
“I wear more makeup than you do,” he teased. “Do you remember that time you slept over senior year unexpected?”
“Very well,” you said as you smiled.
“Hi, Mr. Ackles,” you said, forcing a half-smile as he opened the front door. 
“Hey, kiddo. Jensen’s not home. He’s sleeping over Jack’s house. I’m sure the boys are still there,” he said. You nodded and shrugged, getting a nod as he noticed the bag on your shoulders. “How’s your dad?”
“My parents had a big fight tonight. Dad...he said he was going out to get drunk. Mom doesn’t want me home if he relapses,” you said. 
“Come on,” he said as he pulled you inside. “You eat dinner yet?”
“I’m okay,” you said and he rolled his eyes. “I’m hungry.”
“Put your bag in Jensen’s room. You can have his bed tonight. I don’t imagine you want to go hang out with the boys too much right now,” he said.
“Jack doesn’t like me,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “It’s a guys night or something. I’m okay hanging out here...if that’s okay.”
“You come here and knock on the door you’ll always have a place to stay, Jensen or no Jensen,” he said. 
“I wish my dad was like you. Didn’t drink at all.”
“I never cared much for it. But as far as you know he hasn’t drunk yet and he’s still seven years clean. That’s not easy.”
“I know. I’ll be back in a minute,” you said. You jogged upstairs and set your bag down in Jensen’s room, passing by his sister’s room on the way out.
“Jensen’s not home,” she said, hopping up and rounding the corner into the hall.
“Yeah,” you said. “I’m gonna stay here tonight anyways, Kenzie.”
“Kenzie! Beth is here!” called Jensen’s mom from downstairs.
“Bye, Y/N,” she said, giving you a quick hug before she ran down with her backpack.
“Later, dork,” you said with a smile. You went down and heard a car pulling out of the driveway, Jensen’s parents both working the kitchen. “Can I help?”
“You can set the table, sweetie,” said his mom. You went to the cupboard with plates and got out three, setting everything down after a minute. You poured yourself a glass of water, smiling when you saw they’d made creamy chicken casserole. Jensen’s dad carried over the dish and set it on the table, scooping some out for each of you. His mom set down a bowl of sweet mashed potatoes and you hummed. “I made extra. I know how much you like them.”
“Thanks, Mrs...my mom called you guys before she dropped me off, didn’t she,” you said with a sigh.
“Yes, she did, and we made your favorite dinner. Sue us,” said his dad. 
“Thanks,” you said quietly. You started to eat, even munching on the broccoli in the casserole. 
“So why doesn’t Jack like you?” asked his dad. You gave him a look and he cocked his head. “Y/N…”
“Cause I’m not popular,” you said. You poked at your potatoes and played with them before sighing. “It’s fine, really. I don’t like him either so it works out.”
“He always seemed like a nice kid,” said his dad.
“I always thought he was a little shit,” said his mom. You smiled and she returned it. “What’s Jensen think of this? It’s not like he tells us anything.”
“He’s seventeen. What are you expecting?” said his dad. “But yeah, what’s he think?”
“It’s fine. We tolerate each other cause we both like being Jensen’s friend. I don’t know. He just doesn’t like me cause Jensen does stuff with me sometimes and doesn’t invite his other friends too. It’s up to Jensen who he wants to hang out with, not me.”
“Well we like you much better than Jack if it’s any consolation,” he said. 
“Thanks. Jensen can hang out with his guy friends without me though,” you said. You pushed your food around a bit before you ate again, his parents shifting the topic to you picking out a major for school the next year.
Half an hour later you were making some cinnamon rolls with his mom when the front door opened.
“Jensen?” she called, his dad sitting in a chair and watching TV.
“I forgot my wallet. We’re going to the movies,” he shouted back. “Mom, where’s my wallet?”
“In your backpack pocket. I told you to keep it in your back pocket,” she said.
“I had practice so I…” he said as he popped into the kitchen and saw you there. “What are you doing here?”
“Just…” you said, looking down.
“Is your dad drinking again?” he asked quietly.
“Maybe. They got in a fight. Mom wanted me out of the house in case it wasn’t a good night,” you said. He stared at you and you looked away, surprised when he was suddenly there grabbing your hand. “Jensen.”
“Come to the movies with us. I’ll pay for your ticket,” he said. 
“I’m making rolls with your mom,” you said.
“They’ll be there when we get back. Come on,” he said.
“Ackles!” shouted Jack from the foyer. Jensen stepped back into view of the hall, taking you with him. Jack saw you and shot you a dirty look. “Jensen you coming or what?”
“Actually, not,” he said. He narrowed his eyes and dropped your hand, going down the hall. He walked outside with Jack, the two of them saying something before about thirty seconds later Jensen was walking back in with his duffel. He dropped it by the stairs and walked back over to you. 
“I thought you were having a guy’s sleepover tonight,” you said.
“Yeah well...fuck him,” said Jensen. 
“Jensen,” said his mom with a frown.
“I’m only his friend because of baseball and if he is so worked up at the sight of you then screw him. I’ll hang out with the guys some other time. I’d rather have a sleepover with you.”
“Better be a no fucking kind of sleepover,” said his dad.
“Alan,” said his mom. 
“Guys, it’s Y/N,” said Jensen. His dad mumbled and Jensen grabbed your hand, pulling you upstairs. “Video games?”
“Okay with me.”
“Y/N,” said Jensen from his bed that night. You had your eyes squeezed shut from where you lay on the air mattress, something his parents had bought years and years ago for you when you were regularly staying over. “Y/N.”
“What Jensen?” you said quietly.
“Are you crying?” he whispered. You rolled your eyes and heard the bed creak behind you. You pulled the blanket over your head but he sat down in front of you, peeling it back. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” you said. You sat up and you pulled you into his lap, holding onto you and keeping your blanket around you while you hung onto him. “He’s been sober seven years, Jensen...and he might have fucked it all up.”
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. He’s still your dad, Y/N. He’s not a bad guy.”
“Mom said they’d get divorced if he drank again,” you said. “Why can’t my family be normal like yours?”
“You’re my family so you gotta be normal,” he said. You rested your chin on his shoulder and squeezed him.
“Like a sister?” you asked. It was horrible timing but you had to know how he actually felt. For your own piece of mind.
“I love you is all,” he said, squeezing you back. “Best friends forever right?”
“Yeah,” you said. You sniffled a bit more and he rubbed your back. “Wanna go eat the rest of the cinnamon rolls?”
“You’re on, Y/L/N.”
“You know I was so scared you could hear my heart pounding when you asked me if I loved you like a sister,” said Jensen as he sat up in bed. “I was full on in love with you by that point in every single way.”
“Did you get off to me in high school?” you smirked. He shrugged but grinned. “Oh my God. Naughty boy.”
“I swear never when you slept over though or anything like that. You were just...you never thought twice about taking off your shirt in front of me and standing there in your bra and underwear. You were the first girl I ever saw like that. First woman really.”
“My heart would beat so fast when I did that. I always waited for a comment but it never came.”
“I thought you thought of me like your brother. Up until last night I still thought that.”
“Jared’s like my brother. Your brother Josh is like my brother. You’ve never been like my brother,” you said, smiling as you kissed his cheek. “Come on. Let’s get ready for the day. Dallas is a three hour drive.”
“Y/N...I don’t want to go,” he said. You took his hand and laced your fingers together, Jensen shutting his eyes. He took a short breath and his chest rose and fell quickly. “Please don’t make me go.”
“You have to Jensen.”
“Why?”
“Because you love them and they love you.” He huffed and got out of bed, crossing his arms as he walked into the bathroom. You followed him and paused at the door, Jensen exiting a moment later. “They lied. They don’t share your blood. That’s true. But have you ever doubted for a single second that they don’t love you unconditionally?”
“It’s not the point,” he said. He left and you followed him to the kitchen, Jensen making himself a cup of coffee. “Y/N, drop it.”
“We’re going to your parents house. It could be this morning. It could be tomorrow. It could be a week from now but we are going and you will not get out of this.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong! Why the fuck do I have to go talk to them? They’re the ones that lied!” he shouted, turning to glare at you. “Why do I have to be the bigger fucking person? They’re supposed to take care of me. They’re supposed to protect me. They’re my parents. They’re not…” he trailed off, putting a hand over his face again. “I’m sorry for yelling.”
“It’s okay,” you said. You stepped over and pulled down his arm, wrapping yours around his body. He shut his eyes and turned his head away. “Jensen it’s okay if you’re upset and need to cry and shout. It’s okay to feel however you need to.”
“How do I know they loved me?” he asked quietly. “That they didn’t pretend at first...that they didn’t pretend the whole time and I’m just an idiot that fell for it.”
“I know they’ve always loved you Jensen and so do you but this is why we need to go talk to them. They can tell you themselves.”
“How do I believe them? They’re liars.”
“Jensen liars aren’t necessarily bad people. Everyone lies,” you said.
“Why are you defending them so hard?”
“Jensen...my dad was a drunk. A nice drunk. One that just smelled and fell asleep in front of the TV. He never hurt anyone. But he was still a drunk. Jensen your parents gave mine money to help with dad’s rehab costs. They fed me. They gave me a safe place away from the fighting. My sophomore year of college I got too drunk at a party and my parents were out of town on vacation. You know who picked me up? Your parents. I stayed in your room and sobered up. Jensen I am not their child and they have always treated me like I’m one of their own. If they feel that way about me, how do you think they actually feel about their own kid? I grew up my whole life knowing my parents aren’t perfect and I’m sorry you know what that’s like now too. But I don’t love my parents any less now than I did as a child. They screwed up. Your parents screwed up. It doesn’t mean that they are any less your parents today than they were yesterday.”
“...I didn’t know they helped with the rehab,” he said quietly.
“Our parents are friends after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad is talking to yours right now telling him that it’s not the end of the world what happened.”
“You’re gonna make me go, aren’t you,” he said with a sigh.
“Yup. But I’m gonna go with you.” He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and took a deep breath. “Jay.”
“We’ll go up tonight,” he said. “Deal?”
“Deal,” you said.
“But...I have the condition that we move out your stuff of Andrew’s today,” he said. 
“That is pretty okay with me,” you said. “Let’s take your truck too. I’d rather only have to make one trip.”
“Fingers crossed he’s not here,” you said when you walked into the apartment. Andrew was laying on the couch though, rolling his eyes as you stepped out of the foyer with Jensen.
“Bring your other boyfriend by?” said Andrew, flipping a channel on the TV.
“I thought I made it very clear last night that we’re over,” you said.
“Y/N, we both got heated was all,” he said. “He looks fine to me.”
“Andrew-”
“You didn’t fuck him last night, did you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“No I didn’t, not that it’s any of your business considering we’re done. I am here to get my stuff and that is it. Jensen, I have some shoes and coats in the front closet. Can you chuck those in a bag for me?” you asked. He nodded and went back into the foyer while you took a box into the bathroom. You tossed most everything in the cabinet in there, leaving the box in the bedroom while you got your clothes in some bags. You emptied your nightstand out and the closet, Jensen grabbing your stuff and carrying it out. You were nearly finished with some small things when Andrew wandered inside.
“Y/N. Come on. Don’t go. I got jealous of Jensen was all. It won’t happen again,” he said. “I promise.”
“Andrew,” you said as you stood up. “Last night was the last straw. I’ve been thinking about ending things for a long time. We both deserve to be with people that make us happy and I’m not that person for you and you’re not it for me and that’s okay.”
“Y/N we’ve been together for two years,” he said. “Engaged for one. You want to throw all of that away?”
“Andrew do you love me?”
“Of course I do.”
“No I mean do you really love me? Down in your soul love me?”
“Y/N I don’t do all that sappy shit, you know that.”
“I’m not talking about romantic crap. I mean...do you miss me even though you saw me two minutes ago. Do you get nervous when I’m five minutes late from work? Do you think about building a fort out of sheets in our bedroom and watching movies in it?” He stared at you and you shook your head. “Andrew you were a decent guy once but you’re not the guy for me. Learn to pick up after yourself too. Girls don’t want to your mom. They want to be your girlfriend.”
“You were the one with the Hollywood best friend,” he said. “How could I not be intimidated by that?”
“Because if you ever took a moment to know him, you would know that he wants me to be happy, no matter who the other person is. You’re just a selfish dick, Andrew. Grow up some before you find another girl.”
“Slut,” he said as he walked out.
“At least I know how to give an orgasm,” you said. You shoved some things back in a bag, Jensen turning into the room. 
“I take it things ended very maturely,” he said.
“As mature as it was gonna get. This is the last of it,” you said.
“Let’s get you home then, Y/N.”
Six Hours Later
“Jensen. You have to get out of the car,” you said, parked in the driveway at his parents house.
“No. No, I don’t.”
“Well you haven’t peed in three hours and you’re gonna break at some point. I will be inside,” you said. You turned off the car and climbed out, Jensen crossing his arms in the front seat. You shook your head and knocked on the front door before you opened it, slipping inside. Your shoes came off and you walked to the back of the house, Jensen’s parents and siblings sat in the family room quietly. They all turned in your direction, his dad nodding. “He’s in the car. He’ll come inside when he’s ready...or has to pee. One or the other.”
“Thank you for bringing him here,” said his dad. You shook your head and took a seat on the couch, his sister a little miffed but the other three looked a bit blank.
“Guys he’s thirty, almost thirty one. Why did you not tell him when he was little?” you asked.
“Because it didn’t matter,” said his dad. “I haven’t thought of him as my adopted son since he was a baby. He’s just my son.”
“Your son is afraid that you guys don’t love him.” His mom shut her eyes and turned towards the back window. “He wants to know that you’ve always loved him unconditionally, that he was adopted because you loved him, not pitied him.”
“He had a heart murmur,” said his mom quietly. “That bitch and that asshole husband of hers got pregnant on accident. She didn’t realize until she was nearly six months. She was very petite. Skipping a period was normal for her so she never thought a thing of it until she gained a bit of weight. She was down visiting when she found out.”
“She didn’t want the baby. He didn’t want the baby. She spoke...crudely about it. It was very clear they didn’t want a child. But they spoke so horribly and they found the murmur and she hoped something would happen and…” said his dad.
“We looked at one another, Alan and I did, didn’t discuss it all and told them we’d adopt the baby when it was born. By the time three months later got there, the hole had sealed up and Jensen was perfectly healthy. We loved him before he was even born. We were there for him before he was born, when he was born. Everything was true what we said, it just wasn’t me that had him,” she said. 
“Last year they tried to contact Jensen,” said his dad. You frowned and he nodded. “They said their son was a successful actor and they’d like to meet him. I told them to fuck right off. He was never their son. They didn’t love him. They didn’t give him a bottle. They didn’t clean up after him and hold him while he cried. They didn’t give a rat’s ass about him until they could brag about him. They hated him which is perfectly fine because we got him and he got a real family, one that never cared that he was a little bit different than the rest of us. We didn’t tell him because I haven’t thought about the fact my son is adopted in over twenty years. He’s just our kid to us. That’s it.”
“You could have just said that instead of just staring at me last night,” said Jensen quietly. You all turned in your seats, Jensen stepping out from the front hall. He stayed half hidden behind the wall and his mom was out of her seat quickly, Jensen stepping into the family room to meet her for a hug. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have swore at you like that.”
“No, we’re sorry, sweetie,” she said. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” He took a seat beside you on the couch. He glanced at his dad and nodded. “Why’d they want to talk to me last year. They want money or something.”
“They make probably more than you do which is saying something. I think they wanted to be able to boast that their son was a big star,” said his dad. 
“If I asked, would you tell me how to get in contact?” 
“Yes, we would,” he said. 
“Why?”
“Because you have that right.”
“What did they say about me. Before I was born. What made you pity me?” said Jensen. Your head snapped in his direction and he ignored you. “What was it? Were they going to try and get rid of me? Give me up for adoption? What?”
“We’re not telling you that,” said his mom as she took a seat. Jensen scoffed and she did it right back. “You do not get to-”
“I get to know whatever the fuck I want to about this situation,” he said.
“You don’t get to know that,” said his dad.
“It’s my life! I have the right-”
“You have the right but it doesn’t mean we’ll be fair,” he said. Jensen stared at him and his dad shut his eyes. 
“What’d they say. What the fuck did they say to make you feel so terrible for me.”
“Jensen, just-” you said as he got up and walked in front of his dad.
“Tell me what the fuck she said!” shouted Jensen.
“Mom had a miscarriage,” said his brother quietly. He had his head in his hand, Jensen turning to face him. “When I was little. Before you. They said mom might not be able to have more kids. They were gonna adopt a baby whether it was you or somebody else. I think when your fucked up bio parents started talking about what pills she could start taking to help get rid of the baby early, mom and dad, who’d just found out they couldn’t have that...well I learned a lot of new swear words that day.”
“You had…” said Jensen as his mom looked down. “Is Kenzie-”
“She is biological. You saw me pregnant, sweetie,” she said. “But she was a very happy surprise.”
“We didn’t pity you. We were jealous,” said his dad. “We wanted you and then the more we got into the conversation we knew you had to be ours. We could love you and keep you safe and protect you. We’d never hurt you. We were scared of you being alone with those people. We didn’t know what they’d do. All we are guilty of is lying. Nothing more, Jensen.”
Jensen sat back on the couch beside you, biting his bottom lip before he caught his brother’s stare.
“Did...you...you know…” said Jensen. He smiled and nodded.
“You’re my little brother, dork. Always. I kinda forgot to be honest.”
“I think they should have told you. And me,” said his sister, Jensen smiling. “But nobody was trying to hurt you, Jensen. Everybody’s been calling and texting all day worried about you.”
“Sorry for ruining your birthday party,” said Jensen.
“You made it lively,” joked his brother. Jensen wiped off his face and squeezed his eyes shut. 
“I’m sorry. I’m just...I got scared,” said Jensen. “You didn’t love me.”
“You’re kinda a dumbass, you know?” said his brother. Jensen laughed and nodded. His mom got up to hug him. You sneaked out as the rest of them joined him but not before a hand caught your shirt collar.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?” said his dad. “This is a mandatory hug.”
You turned and joined them for a moment, Jensen relaxed when they broke apart. 
“Okay?” you asked him and he nodded.
“Yeah. Thanks for dragging my butt up here,” he said. He gave you a kiss and you smiled, his whole family staring. “Y/N and I got together last night. She broke it off with her fiance. She’s staying at the house with me now...can you all stop smiling?”
“About time,” said his brother and sister.
“Shut up,” he said.
“You’ve been crushing on her since you were twelve,” said his brother.
“Jensen’s had a hard enough day. Let’s cut him some slack this time,” said his dad. He did smile though and you shook your head. “Well...now that that’s dealt with who wants ice cream?”
Two Hours Later
“Hey,” you said, taking a seat on the old swingset in the backyard beside Jensen. He kicked lightly, dragging his sneaker along the grass. “You okay? You never came up to bed.”
“Just feel stupid now, for reacting that way. I mean I threw up on you last night.”
“Not the first time and not the last,” you said. You swung over to the left and bumped him. “Jensen it wasn’t stupid. You were scared.”
“I don’t get scared like that. You were as cool as a cucumber and I was freaking out.”
“I have sat up with you crying my eyes out since I was a little girl. It’s your turn to be the freaking out one,” you said. He bumped you back and found your hand, grabbing it in his. “Don’t feel stupid over being human.”
“I’m really glad I called you,” he said.
“Me too. I needed to leave Andrew too. I really needed that,” you said. “I didn’t realize how unhappy I’ve been.”
“Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“If this doesn’t work between us, and I am fully expecting it to work, but if it doesn’t or if the long distance element gets too hard...still best friends forever?”
“Always,” you said. You squeezed his hand and he pulled on it, brining your swing over closer. “What?”
“People will hate you just because you’re with me. They already hate me for stupid shit. It used to bother me. Some days...it still does. I can’t protect you from it,” he said.
“Jensen anytime you post me in anything I get called a slut. Andrew called me your whore to my face. I don’t give a flying fuck. I have a lifetime of thick skin. I can handle some petty little bitches. Your real fans are good. Don’t worry about the haters.”
“Just wanted to give you one last chance to back out,” he said. “Before I inevitably make you fall in love with me and spend the rest of my life with you. No pressure though.”
“Oh well when you put it like that,” you said. “I really should think about this.”
“You really should.” You hummed and tugged on his arm hard, spinning him over towards you. You caught his shoulders and planted a deep kiss on him, Jensen blinking when you broke it off. 
“Satisfied with my answer?” you smiled.
“Very,” he said. “But you are very cold and we should go inside now.”
You followed him up to his old room, Jensen shutting the door after you. The bed was a full and you both could certainly fit if you really tried but it probably wouldn’t be all that comfortable. 
“I have an idea,” he said, booping your nose. “Wait right here.”
He left and was gone a few minutes, returning with a mess of blankets. He laid them out on the floor and grabbed the covers off the bed along with the pillows. 
“Looks perfect, Jensen,” you said. You gave him a side hug and saw a call from Andrew’s mom pop up on your phone. You wanted to ignore it but Jensen nodded and you sat on the bed, picking it up. “Hi, Karen.”
“What happened with you and Andrew? He just came home very upset and says you cheated on him with that Jensen guy.”
“Karen, that is not what happened,” you said, Jensen raising an eyebrow and listening in.
“Andrew says he’s willing to forgive you if you two go to couples counseling. Half the wedding is already paid for,” she said. 
“I did not cheat. We broke up yesterday. I broke us up because I don’t love your son. I moved out today. I also told you not to put money down on anything. That is your fault if you did.”
“Y/N, I’m really trying here. Please come talk to Andrew. He’s willing to-”
“Your son is an ass, Karen and we are through,” you said. “Don’t call again.”
You hung up and tossed your phone aside, Jensen frowning at you.
“That sounds like it didn’t go well.”
“He’s now claiming I cheated on him. Forget all of them. I just want to lay down with you,” you said. He smirked and picked you up quickly, giggling as he spun you around and plopped you down on the floor. “You’re cute.”
“Am I?” he teased. 
“Yes,” you said. You kissed his cheek and then his lips, Jensen laying down beside you. You knew he was still tired after the long day and broke it off, his hand quickly catching your cheek. 
“Don’t stop doing that,” he said. 
“Whatever you say, Jensen.”
________
318 notes · View notes
queerspacepunk · 3 years
Note
For DADWC: “I wish we’d never met. I only bring you pain" for Anders/Fenris?
sorry this has taken forever, my weekends have been chaos and now i'm sick and i think i forgot to respond to the @dadrunkwriting headcount for this week but OH WELL. I think i slightly tweaked the wording but i'm sure we'll cope.
Hawke had prepared him for this. Anders had too, in a way. Far more self-critical, admission lined in deflections, but it’s Hawke’s words Fenris turns to, nights like these, where Anders is in pieces and not all the way in the present.
“I wish we’d never met!” Anders snaps, pushing Fenris away as he scrambles across the bed, putting the furniture between them, foot catching in the duvet as he goes, tripping him. “All I ever do is hurt you!” His voice cracks at the end of it, and his eyes are wild.
Hawke had warned Fenris about this, back in the stilted month between the last time Fenris had tumbled Anders into bed drunk and the first time he’d done it sober. Well, not warned perhaps. To warn would imply Hawke was advising him away. No, Hawke had prepared him for this.
Anders had too, in a way. Far more self-critical, admission lined in deflections, but it’s Hawke’s words Fenris turns to, nights like these, where Anders is in pieces and not all the way in the present.
He’s not reacting to you, not really. He’s like an injured kitten.
“You feel dangerous,” Fenris says carefully. Acknowledgement, not validation.
“I am dangerous,” Anders spits, “I hurt you, it’s all I ever do. Out of control, out of-”
Blue begins to break through his skin, as if to prove a point. Fenris wonders if Anders knows that the pattern of light is different depending on whether his protector is being summoned or coming through of his own accord.
If he’s out of line, tell him.
Fenris breathes out instead of lighting up himself, much as he wants to.
“No Justice in our room without asking,” Fenris says, by rote, without anger. “You’re overwhelmed, do you need a moment?”
“I need you to listen to me!” Anders says, howls, “to get away before I hurt you more. Before I can’t stop myself.”
He’s gets memory mixed up with prophecy. He’s scared of what he thinks he’ll do, of how he thinks you’ll react.
“I’m grateful that hurting me is not something you want to do,” Fenris says, “even if you fear you will.”
Fenris moves around the bed, noting the way that Anders has, even in this state, has left him with an open line to the door, even as he’s had to back himself into a corner to do it.
“I am stepping out for a moment,” he says, “not out of the house, just out of the room. I will be back soon.”
For all Fenris’ skill in running, he hates this part. Hates the brief hint of grief and resignation that Anders never quite manages to hide as he steps away, but he knows it needs to be done.
He’s irrational like this. You could talk at him till you’re both blue in the face and he wouldn’t believe it. You have to play it out, give yourself a chance to prove him wrong.
Fenris doesn’t speak as he walks to the kitchen, but he lets his feet fall heavier than he usually does, slams the freezer door a little harder than he needs to as he pulls the icepack out.
He’s out of the room a minute, maybe two, but Anders has sunk to the ground in the time he was gone. The glow of Justice all but gone, gaze unfocused and distant. He looks up in something like surprise when Fenris enters, brow creasing in a frown when Fenris sits down beside him, lays the ice pack over the back of his neck.
Anders sits with his knees tucked up, wrists resting on them, head hanging between, for a long while before he can speak. The slightest tremor running through his frame the only real indication that he’s still there.
“I- fuck, I’m sorry,” Anders croaks, not raising his head.
Fenris presses his side slightly closer. A reminder of presence, a continuity error for the tale Anders’ mind is trying to spin.
Time travel’s exhausting. Fenris had always wondered how Hawke had known that. Guide him home, ease him in.
A broken, painful sort of laugh shakes out of Anders, and when he sits up, icepack slipping off his shoulders, the tears he’s shedding are frustrated.
“In the morning?” Fenris asks, because he knows as well as Anders does that they will have to deal with this, eventually, but not tonight.
“Yeah,” Anders agrees, “in the morning.”
This seems like an easy one, considering. They’re getting practiced, but Fenris can tell how heavy it is sitting in Anders’ chest.
Be ready for the second wave, go with him through it.
Fenris stands, a little sooner than Anders wants, perhaps, but he’s pliant now, apologetic and emptied out and as much as Fenris doesn’t want to take advantage of that, he needs to get Anders off the floor and to the bed before the next part.
They make it most of the way. Shoes already discarded when they came home, all Fenris really has to do is help Anders out of his jeans, his own long fingers too clumsy, like they’d been under the ice too.
Anders is leaning against him, hands balanced on Fenris’ shoulders as he helps kick away the jeans now pooled on the ground when the second wave does hit. His gaze going from distant to painfully focused on Fenris’ shoulder, where his own hand is resting.
“I hit you,” Anders says, chokes out. Fenris has often wondered if Justice allows Anders to see things that others can’t, or if it’s just the way memories seem to sear themselves into Anders’ vision.
They interact with the past so differently, the two of them.
“No,” Fenris says, for once having to drag himself back into the present as much as he’s dragging Anders, “you shoved me. And only because you were concerned you might hurt me.”
Anders glances up. Not to Fenris’ eyes, not quite, too soon for that, but close, “shoving you isn’t better.”
“When was the last time you were able to push me somewhere I didn’t want to go?” Fenris asks, and takes advantage of Anders’ state once again to push him back toward the bed, angling it so the soft edge of the mattress is what catches him behind the knees and sends him toppling gently onto it.
He’s scared because he loves you. Wants you to be safe. Let him know that you are.
The look on Anders’ face when Fenris does this is so close to the way he looks when they’re playing at things in bed that the first time he’d tried this, Fenris had had to run to the bathroom to retch up his lunch. He’d called Hawke earlier than usual that night.
It still isn’t easy, but he’s learnt since that submission given willingly is less about resignation and more about relief, and he knows now that that is what he’s seeing in Anders’ face. That what Anders’ is responding to isn’t force, but the knowledge that he isn’t a threat to Fenris. Not now.
Change the scene, change the tune. Leave the past in the past, however recent.
Fenris reaches down and helps Anders pull his shirt off, the collar damp from the icepack, the rest of it warmed from his panicked sweat. Fenris tosses it away, pulls another out from under the pillow, helps Anders pull it over his head before stripping his own clothes off in favour of sleep clothes.
Loose pants and no shirt. Anders is rarely ready to be bared to the world so soon after a night like this, but Fenris knows his skin is a warm comfort, knows that even when he sleeps the slight glow of his tattoos will chase away the total darkness.
“I will fetch us tea,” he says, after pulling the blankets over Anders, and Anders nods in response, pulling the duvet up so only his red-rimmed eyes and tousled hair are visible.
Fenris can’t help but push the hair back gently before he leaves. He keeps his footfalls heavy, shuts the cupboards loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to sound angry, fills two cups that he knows probably won’t be finished, but will root them to the present nonetheless.
The cats have materialised in the time it took Fenris to make two cups of tea. Slunk into the room and positioned themselves so as to almost immobilise Anders. One behind his knees, another at his back, a third at his waist.
There is a brief glaring contest between Fenris and The Viscat before the tabby sighs far too heavily for a cat of even his vast size and vacates the spot in front of Anders’ chest where he had been pinning the blankets down, allowing Fenris to lift them up and slip into the bed. To let Anders curl close around him. Clinging with a sort of desperation that Fenris can never quite figure out what to do with.
They sip at their tea and watch cat videos on Fenris’ phone (his recommendations will be a mess after this) until Anders is dozing, halfway to sleep. Fenris lets the video run itself out, and then presses Hawke’s number.
Call me, after, to check in.
“Hey, how’s he doing?” Hawke never seems to need to guess what he’s calling about, not at this hour.
“To debrief with you about your ex-lovers... episode?”
“Nearly asleep,” Fenris says, brushing the hair back from Anders’ forehead again. Anders nuzzles further into his side and mumbles something, “he says ‘hello’,” Fenris relays, “I think.”
Just because we didn’t work together like that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about him, that he’s not my friend, you both are.
“How are you doing?” Hawke asks next, equally gentle.
“You think I’m not capable of handling this on my own.”
“We’ve had worse nights,” Fenris admits, “better ones, also.”
I think you’re more capable than I am.
“You did well,” Hawke says, “you always do. Do you need anything?”
“We... will talk about this in the morning,” Fenris says, “the two of us. After that, perhaps?”
“I’ll bring lunch,” Hawke says, “but call, if you need me before then.”
I think that a person can hurt someone all on their own, but healing is a team effort.
“I will,” Fenris says, surprised to realise his eyelids are heavy, “goodnight Hawke, thank you.”
“Nah,” Hawke says, “thank you.”
39 notes · View notes
spyoikawa · 4 years
Note
peonies with tamaki pls
@canis-saturn ooh, I've never written for tamaki before, I hope I do this ok!
Rion's Flower Shop: Peonies (tamaki amajiki)
♡romantic♡
Tamaki getting a crush was... different? Interesting to put it politely. Of course Nejire and Mirio were the first to know, and they were ecstatic! He realized after training one day, you had chatted and hung out with him as the two of you were cooling down. Really anyone could tell but Tamaki at the moment. For once he was smiling and engaging with someone, simply happy to be talking with you.
Poor boy has the most delayed reaction and doesn't realize until he gets back to the dorms.
"C'mon Amajiki! You've gotta do it sooner or later!" Mirio laughed as they walked down the hallways. "I just might do it for you"
"NO- I mean, please don't, I want to do this myself". Tamaki sighed, it had been about 3 months since that fateful training, and he still hasn't made a move. His anxiety only got worse around you, he couldn't even bring himself to speak.
"Its just frustrating," he muttered to himself, "because I know I can speak, I've talked with them before. But now I can't, my voice is broken"
Nejire giggled at this, "Your voice isn't broken Tamaki. You're just nervous and crushing! You gotta get over it, confess, and you'll feel better!"
Tamaki slouched and sighed again, "I don't know guys, just give me a while to think about this-"
"Hey guys, wait up!" You exclaimed, running down the halls.
"Speak of the devil, HEY Y/N! HURRY UP!" Mirio exclaimed
"Wait, what are you doing?!" Tamaki panicked
Mirio let out a hearty laugh, "I said if you didn't do it soon, I would do it for you! C'mon, I'll do it now, and you don't have to speak!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Nejire added, "we can throw in some flowers maybe? Wait no we don't have flowers... maybe we can shred paper for confetti?"
"GUYS NO-"
Everyone jumped a bit at Tamaki's newfound volume.
"PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING, I'LL FIGURE IT OUT. THIS IS IMPORTANT AND I WANT TO DO IT MYSELF" he exclaimed, frustrated with his friends at the moment
"Do what yourself?" You popped up next to him.
A little squeak escaped his lips, he hadn't realize you caught up.
Oh God what now, He thought to himself, I can't just run away, thats rude. And if I run Mirio and Nejire will most likely tell them... but if I stay I can't lie to them... will I really have to do this? What if I mess it up, what if they don't like me, we HAVE only spoken once, jeez why did I even tell Mirio and Nejire, this could've been so much easier, what if I-
"Uh... Tamaki...? Earth to Tamaki?" Nejire said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Didn't you have something to say Tamaki?" Mirio said, winking at his friend.
You tilted your head in confusion.
Well, I guess this is happening now.
He took a deep breath and started.
"L-listen y/n" He silently cursed himself for stuttering, "I just wanted to say, that ever since that training together- wait that's too broad. Um, ever since that training we spoke together after, I wanted to let you know that... I... hang on I wanna say this right... I...."
He sucked in a breath, looking at you, looking at him curiously.
"I've been trying to say... I really like you. A lot. I've developed a crush on you, and I hope you would go out with me"
Mirio and Nejire's eyes widened and mouths dropped into open grins. They didn't think he had it in him.
You smile, "of course I would love to go out with you! I like you too Tamaki!"
His eyes widened this time, he hadn't expected the feeling to be mutual.
"You really mean it?" He asked
"Yup!" You say, "Why don't we go somewhere this weekend when there's not training?"
A soft smile landed on his lips, relief swarming him, "I would love to"
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for this request! As I said I've never written Tamaki, so this was really fun to do! I hope I wrote him accurately, and I hope you enjoyed! (Please lmk if there's any errors in my writing so I can improve!)
To anyone who hasn't been here, please check out my event!
67 notes · View notes
kaywinchester · 4 years
Text
Dark Power Pt. 5
Read Part 4 Here!
Summary: Sam goes off to help Dean with the hunt. In the process, Y/N and Jody run into some trouble. 
Word Count: 1,857
A/N: I really hope you guys somewhat like this series so far. I might have this one be longer than the other ones I’ve written before, which is why it’s going by slower. My requests are still closed but I will let y’all know when I am opening them again. It will be soon!
“This is Jody, she’s going to be staying with you while we’re gone.” Dean introduced Jody as she came through the motel door.
“Hi, Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Jody stuck out her hand for Y/N to shake.
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N shook Jody’s hand with a small smile. Dean gave Jody a run down of what hunt they were doing, then told her about Y/N a little bit. Sam walked over to his daughter to say goodbye.
“Promise you’ll be back soon?” Y/N asked innocently. 
“Promise. The sooner we get to work on this thing, the sooner we can be done with this, and I can get back here.
“Okay...” Y/N lowered her head.
“It’ll be okay. Jody is pretty cool from what I’ve heard. I’ll call you guys later tonight.” Sam said as he placed a kiss on Y/N’s forehead. The two men grabbed their things and walked out.
Y/N sat down on one of the beds, staying quiet. All of this was so new to her. It was a little scary and stressful, she also worried about her dad going up against monsters. Although, she didn’t know much about the actual monsters yet, she still worried about her dad and wanted him to come home safe so they could both go back home.
“So? Is there anything you want to do to pass the time?” Jody asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know.” Y/N mumbled and shrugged.
“I know this stuff, your dad and uncle are going through is a little weird. Hard to believe even.....” Jody said.
“Are they actually serious? Or is this just one big joke?” Y/N asked.
“It is real all right. I know it seems crazy since we’re all told as kids that monsters aren’t real and neither are ghosts. As much as I’d like to think they aren’t, unfortunately that’s not the case. Your dad and uncle are hunters and there is a whole community of people out there that do the same thing as them. Not a lot of people know about hunting, which is for the best.” Jody explained.
“Why don’t most people know about what they do?”
“Because, there's a lot of bad things out there that are very dangerous. They can be smart and fast. Most of the time, these monsters are inhuman, so they can do things that we can't. If everyone knew these things were real, they would most likely be going after everyone. So it’s just better for a few people to go after them in silence.” Jody said.
“Is that why we haven't seen Dean in so long? Because he was out hunting?” Y/N wondered.
“It’s really not my place to talk about these things....” Jody trailed off.
“That’s the reason though, isn’t it?” Y/N knew the answer already.
“See, your dad didn’t want to hunt the rest of his life, so he wanted to live a normal life with you. That made Dean a little upset, since he thought they would be hunting together for a long time. They just disagreed on things they wanted to do in life, that’s all.” Jody said, hoping Sam wouldn’t be mad for explaining these things.
“Is my dad going to start hunting again?” Y/N asked.
“Well, his plan was to just help your uncle out with this one and then get back to reality.”
That was Sam’s plan all along. But plans like that for hunters usually don’t get to play out so smoothly. Sam knew there was going to be more trouble after this hunt, but he wanted to try his best to keep it from affecting his life with Y/N
...................
The next three days for Sam and Dean consisted of going back and forth, talking to the police, victims, families, witnesses. Collecting information on everything and everyone. Dean started to have a little bit more luck with Sam around, the two of them were really a team.
“Y’know, I think I know what I’ve been missing from these hunts.” Dean thought.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Sam asked.
“Your dorkiness.....” Dean stated. Sam rolled his eyes. “I guess your smarts count too.” Dean added.
Sam gave a small smile and looked back at his laptop. “It would be great to have you back, doing this again.” Dean brought up.
“You know I can’t Dean, this is a one time thing. Just like that weekend trip to look for dad was a one time thing.” Sam sighed. 
“It’s in your blood, Sam. You’re good at this, you’re meant to do this.....” Dean said.
“I’m meant to keep my daughter safe. Which means no hunting. I gotta do what I gotta do.” Sam said. He then sat up a little straighter, a worried and confused expression formed on his face.
“Something doesn’t feel right about this.....” Sam said
“What, what do you mean?” Dean asked.
“The weekend trip I took to hunt with you. After that, Jess died. This is another short hunt, it’s meant to be just a few days..... What if this is the same thing that killed Jess? What if it’s after Y/N too?” Sam’s expression started to grow more worried and angry. 
“Uh, I don’t know.” Dean thought about it. He didn’t know what to say. Sam pulled out his phone as quickly as he could and dialed Jody’s number. “What?” Dean asked, not knowing what Sam was trying to do.
“I promised I’d call.” Sam said as the line rang.
“Hello?” Jody answered.
“Hey! How are you guys doing?” Sam asked.
“We’re uh, we’re doing fine...” Jody said. 
“How’s Y/N? Can you put her on the phone? I promised I would call.” Sam asked.
“Sure.” Jody said. The line was silent for a while until he heard some small breaths. 
“Hi dad.” Said a small voice.
“Hey sweetie. Sorry it’s a little late, but just wanted to see how you were doing.” Sam said.
“I’m fine, are you almost done with the hunt?” Y/N asked eagerly.
“Kind of, we found some more leads these past few days. We’re getting there.”  
“Okay. Please hurry back!” Y/N said in a shaky voice.
“Don’t worry, we’re working on it!” Sam said in a hopeful voice. Before Y/N said goodbye to him, the phone call ended from the other line. Sam set his phone down with a confused look on his face.
“See, they’re doing good....” Dean said.
“No..... Something doesn’t seem right.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “She didn’t sound like her normal self. She sounded scared.” 
“Maybe she was just worried about you?” Dean implied.
“We need to go check on them.” Sam said as he got up abruptly.
“Sam, we’re not driving all the way back out there, you just got off the phone with them.” Dean argued.
“Dean, we’re going back there wether you like it or not. I have a bad feeling about this.” Sam urged as he grabbed his things in a hurry.
...................
Jody’s phone rang in her pocket. “Well what do we have here?” The man in front of her said as he reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. A smile spread across the mans face as he looked at the caller ID.
“Listen here. I’m going to answer this, you’re going to talk as if everything is just fine. If you say one wrong word, I’m killing you both.” He talked slow. He answered the call and put the phone on speaker next to Jody.
“Okay. Please hurry back!” Y/N said a little too scared sounding. The mans face grew sour as he hung up the call. “What did I say!?” He yelled as he punched Y/N across her cheek. Her head fell down as she winced in pain.
“Fuck. Now they’re probably on their way.” He said to the other man. They both glanced around and whispered to each other.
“Bring them in.”
“To the nest?” He whispered. “Isn’t it too soon for that?”
“We’ve waited long enough. Lets just finish these two so that we can go grab the WInchester’s”
It was apparent to Jody that these were definitely vamps. She needed to keep a close eye on Y/N as she was already scared enough. 
The two men broke into the motel earlier with force after looking for Sam and Dean. They found Jody and Y/N instead and panicked, grabbing them instead. The two grabbed them and walked them out to a truck where they were driven away to some vamps nest. 
Y/N and Jody sat on the floor in the back of a truck. It was very dark, with some dim light coming from the windows.
“Are they going to kill us?” Y/N asked fearfully.
“I don’t know what their plans are, but I just need you to stay as calm as possible, okay? Can you do that for me?” Jody soothed. Y/N nodded.
“When we get there and we’re not in the truck anymore, see if you can wiggle out of those ropes, you’re hands are probably small enough, then if there is a point where they aren’t looking, grab the knife in my back pocket.” Jody whispered as quiet as she could.
“I thought I said no talking!” The guy shouted from the front seat.
Y/N sat there terrified for her life. But she knew she had to be strong for Jody and for her dad. She sat up straight and sniffled her watery eyes away, determined to get out of here alive.
...................
Sam and Dean busted through the motel door to find nothing but two chairs on the ground with a roll of rope. 
“Damnit!” Dean yelled, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
“Look around, for anything!” Sam demanded.
Sam looked around as well as Dean. “Nothing.” Dean breathed out. Sam walked out into the parking lot in frustration. Dean followed. “What now? We have NOTHING on them.” Sam yelled.
Dean just happened to look down and saw a folded up piece of paper. He picked it up, unfolded it to see it was a map. It had markings and places circled on it. Studying it more in depth, he looked at the locations, realizing they were the places that he had visited through out town to get information.
“Sam, look. I’ve gone to all of these places while on this hunt. This must be their map if they’ve been tracking me...” Dean scanned the piece of paper. “I’ve been everywhere except here, I don’t remember going anywhere over here.” Dean pointed out one spot on the map that was further away from everything else. 
“That must be their nest.” Sam guessed.
“I hope you’re right.” Dean jingled his keys as they took a chance on the one location from the map.
Sam sat in the passenger seat and looked at the map, letting out a sigh, he knew how scared his little girl must have been. In his heart, she knew she was strong, but he was still worried as hell. Dean said not to worry, and that Jody is with her. Regardless, they knew they didn’t have much time and needed to get there fast.
Requests Are Closed Read Part 6 HERE!
Tags:
@mersuperwholocked-lowlife @gracie-and-the-superwholock-gang
40 notes · View notes
strawberrynamjoon · 4 years
Text
our last summer
Tumblr media
– pairing: taehyung & reader 
– warnings: a bittersweet mixture of fluff and angst, taehyung being a cheesy romantic in love and a sweet shower scene!!
– summary: in order to rescue your failing relationship, taehyung tries to fight for you one last time and flies to paris with you to relive some of your favorite memories – desperately hoping that the city of love will remind you of how much you love him again.
– word count: 7k
– note: this is based on “our last summer” by abba aka the best song in the universe <3 like always, this is not proofread yet, i promise i’ll do it someday.
Tumblr media
You weren’t sure if you felt like crying or like smashing plates but by now, just looking at Taehyung was enough to make you feel upset. It was heartbreaking to see how the two of you drifted away, especially when you always were so sure that it could happen to anyone but never to you. At least that’s what you thought for the longest time.
A constant battle was going on inside of you, a turmoil, completely overwhelmed trying to decide between staying for the old times' sake or leaving and trying to move on. Neither of these choices was the right one in your mind but in the end, you still had to make one.
Maybe, your relationship with Taehyung was teaching you that sometimes in life you have to make a decision between two options that both are awful.
As he heard the sigh that escaped your lips, your boyfriend of five years glanced up from the book he was reading on the couch in the living room only a few meters away. The expression in his eyes gave him away easily – he knew exactly what was occupying your mind.
The book was thrown to the side, Taehyung couldn’t care less about which page he was on when he was currently watching his relationship crumble right in front of him, and his tall and broad figure made its way up from the couch over to the dining table you were desperately trying to work on your laptop to get your mind off your real problems.
He sat down opposite from you, closing your laptop so you would concentrate on him.
Studying his face, you still saw the same handsome man he was when you first fell in love with him. Actually, he might even be more handsome now than he was before, his boyish features grew into more manly ones over time. It was still painfully obvious that Kim Taehyung was an attractive man, no question – but the spark was missing.
“What’s on your mind, buttercup?” he asked carefully, lowering his head a bit so your eyes were forced to meet his.
Not even the loving pet name he gave you in the early stage of your relationship made you feel anything anymore. Well, nothing but frustration. Frustration because after all these years you spent together it didn’t seem fair to you that suddenly it didn’t fit anymore.
Thinking back to the start you were so sure that no one would ever be a better match for you than him. The way his hand fitted in yours, the way his body seemed to melt into yours at night as if you were two puzzle pieces, belonging together. Your beginning was such a happy one.
But that was the harsh reality about relationships, the bitter aftertaste. The endings are never happy.
Shrugging, you ran your hands through your hair, trying hard to sound as unbothered as possible, “Just the usual.”
It was hard to say who was in the worse position: You, the one who is falling out of love and sooner or later has to break the other person’s heart or Taehyung, the one who still loves so much and will get their heart broken.
Well, thinking about it for a second both of you didn’t seem to be in the ideal position. It didn’t matter who had it worse, both of you hated the current situation, feeling helpless and vulnerable constantly.
Taehyung was almost reaching out for your hand that was laying flat on the table for a second but stopped himself before he actually touched you. By now he knew that even his touch alone was making you feel burdened.
Now he was the one to let out a sigh. Sighs seemed to be your most common method of communication over the last few months, “I’m trying my best to be the best boyfriend I can. Please, if there’s anything I can do to save this, just let me know.”
It hurt how hard he was trying because you knew he was indeed doing everything that was possible to make you happy again. But the more he tried, the more you distanced yourself. May it be a defense mechanism or just you feeling guilty, it was the sad truth, inevitable.
Both of you were hurting and both of you knew where all of this was going – in the end, you would break up.
Despite the younger versions of yourselves swearing that you would never ever lose feelings for each other, the current you knew better. It was just a matter of time until you would part ways.
Pressing your lips into a hard line, you nodded. You couldn’t count the number of times you sat down like this in the evening to talk about your failing relationship on one hand anymore.
“What if those feelings will never come back, Tae?” you asked him carefully what was burning inside your mind for the whole day. Every time you looked at him you longed for just a hint of the feelings you used to feel – but no matter how much you wanted to, you felt nothing.
On the more positive side, Taehyung has always been your friend. No matter what kind of situation, you never had to choose your words carefully or be afraid of him judging you. If there was something on your mind, Taehyung would be there to listen and talk you through it, regarding your relationship or not.
His gulp, followed by him pressing his eyes together was giving away how much it affected him. You saw him crying one too many times to not know that he was trying hard not to let those tears roll down his cheeks at that moment.
“Don’t give up on us just yet,” his pained request was nothing more than a whisper and you could feel your heart physically cracking a bit, “Let me try one more time to convince you that the feelings are still hidden somewhere inside of you.”
You reached out for Taehyung's hand, squeezing it lightly. The unexpected touch made him look at you again, eyes longing.
"Sure," a weak smile was all you could offer him, "I don’t want this to be over neither. I really want this to work out again as much as you, believe me."
Nodding, his lips carefully pressed a kiss against your hand that was still holding his, "I have something in mind, it just needs a bit of planning."
The curiosity inside of you rose in an instant, Taehyung knew just how nosy you were and his favorite thing since forever was to tease something and then not tell you what it was.
"You're mean," you let out a weak laugh, "But I'll wait. I know you won't tell me anyway."
“Just don’t make any plans for next weekend.”
Tumblr media
You startled out of your sleep in shock when you heard the loud alarm clock. After all these years, you never got used to just how loud Taehyung needs to have his alarm sound in order to actually hear it.
But instead of being greeted with a sleepy Taehyung next to you in bed you instead found him standing in front of the bed, dressed in his most fashionable clothes, two luggage bags in his hand.
For a second, just the smallest second, your heart sank, the luggage making you think that he decided that he finally had enough of your constant mood swings and was about to leave you. Even though you played with the thought of breaking up so often, you never felt more vulnerable than in that second.
As soon as you saw him laugh at you though, you realized that he was not leaving you for good.
“What the hell are you doing?” you asked grumpy, stretching while sitting up, “Why do you have your stuff packed?”
“Actually, that’s not my stuff, it’s our stuff,” the proud grin never left his lips, “I have to go and get something quickly before we leave. You have thirty minutes, better hurry up.”
Now you were wide awake, wondering what Taehyung was going on about on this Friday morning.
“What do you mean, before we leave?” you yelled after him but you could only see his back as he was shrugging and telling you that it’s a surprise – certainly the thing he teased a few days ago back in the kitchen.
A part of you was afraid – you knew that he was just trying his best to make you stay with him, whatever the surprise would be, but you didn’t want him to be disappointed in case it wouldn’t work out. It would break his heart if he put the effort into something cute for you and it still didn't work out.
The other and luckily bigger part of you was excited. It has been too long since you felt this excited about anything – real excitement, not the one you feel when a new season of your favorite show gets announced but the one that grows deep in your stomach, almost thrilling.
Knowing Taehyung, his surprises always were a hit, and even though things are rough between you, it was definitely worth a shot. You trusted him enough to know that wherever he was taking you would not be a disappointment.
But before you could give in completely to looking forward to it you felt stress rushing over you, having to get ready within thirty minutes without even knowing where your adventure would lead.
Rushing to the bathroom you were surprised with a letter attached to the mirror with adhesive tape. It had your name written on it, a few red hearts doodled around it.
Sitting down on the edge of your bathtub you opened the letter,  wondering what your boyfriend thought off for this weekend.
Tumblr media
A small smile crept onto your lips as you read the letter. Taehyung surely knew how to be romantic, even after so many years.
But you had no time to gush about it, time was running and you had to at least look like a human before you were leaving.
Taking a quick shower and putting on concealer and some mascara in a rush was all you managed before Taehyung stood in the doorframe of your bathroom though, ready for the two of you to begin your adventure.
Turning around, you chuckled as you saw the croissants and strawberries he was holding up in the air, "Got us something for the flight."
"You're insane, Kim Taehyung. Taking me to Paris spontaneously like it isn't a big thing?"
"Anything for you," he shrugged slightly embarrassed and you could swear there was a blush creeping onto his face, "Are you ready?"
Nodding, you walked out of the bathroom with a smile on your face, "I'm always ready to go to Paris with you."
It has been some time since you thought about that trip to Paris many years ago but ever since you stepped into the airplane nothing else was on your mind.
The whole way from the apartment to the hotel so many memories of your first trip as a couple came back to your mind, each one of them making you miss how close you used to be.
Back then there was nothing more important than Taehyung’s and your relationship – you still remember how your heart skipped a beat seeing him fit in with the surroundings, not sure if he or Paris was prettier. 
You couldn’t help but giggle like an idiot when Taehyung insisted to carry you through the door of your hotel room in bridal style just like he did the last time. 
It was beyond you that he somehow managed to get the exact same room you were staying in back then – honestly, alone the fact that he still knew which one it was was impressive enough. It was typical for him to pay attention to the small details, one of the things you always adored about him.
In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but still doubt the intentions of this trip a little bit, fearing that not only it could become awkward but also that your precious memories of your favorite vacation with Taehyung could be replaced with worse ones after that.
But as soon as he insisted to carry you through the door bridal style you couldn’t help but giggle and promise yourself to push away all those negative feelings for at least this weekend.
After all, even if the love might be gone, Taehyung was still one of your closest friends.
“You know I could walk in myself, right?” you asked amused, your grin making Taehyung smile in an instant. It has been some time since he was the reason for your smile – your real smile, one that actually reached your eyes.
He shook his head while scrunching up his nose in the cutest way. Once again, you were blown away by how handsome he actually was. His tan skin, his wide chin and your favorite feature on him, his one double and one mono eyelid. All the things you were able to appreciate for hours back then.
All those pretty traits of him used to make you weak in the knees and you suddenly missed those feelings. Even though you weren’t feeling them right now, at least you started to miss them again. That was a good start, wasn’t it?
“You technically could but that would be pretty boring,” he laughed, kicking the door behind him so it would close while his hands were busy holding you. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you wondered when you last were this close to him.
Walking to the bed, he gently let you down on top of it. The room didn’t change one bit, it was almost as if the time stood still since you last were here.
Taehyung raised his eyebrow at you, his eyes lighting up as something came to his mind, “I wonder if it’s still here.”
Before you could ask him what he meant he was already stepping outside to the balcony of the room. Curiosity took you over once again, following him out.
As you stepped after him, he was already squatting down, inspecting the lower part of the wall to his right.
“They painted it over,” he almost sounded sulky and you only now remembered what he was looking for.
Your eyes widened, “I completely forgot that we wrote our initials down here. Our criminal side jumped out back then.”
Laughter escaped your boyfriend’s mouth, shaking his head in disbelief, “We were so afraid to get caught. The whole thrill just for them to paint it over like it meant nothing.”
“It was so small, I bet they didn’t even notice it and just painted the whole wall because it needed a fresh coat of paint,” you assumed, remembering the little heart you wrote your initials in.
After the two of you put away your luggage and refreshed yourself a bit, Taehyung told you to get ready for today’s plan.
“Today, you’ll get the best out of reliving old memories and making new ones,” he informed you smugly as he was waiting for you to put on your shoes, standing in the doorframe, ready to go.
Your hotel was close to the centrum, surrounded by several cafes and bars. Taehyung has always loved the aesthetic of Paris, especially on a warm summer evening like this one. He didn’t care about the full streets and the traffic jam, he felt right at home in the overcrowded streets of France's capital.
All Taehyung cared for was the breathtaking views, the old architecture, and being with you. Also known as his biggest inspirations in life, even though if he had to rank it, you would definitely come first.
He always used to say that you couldn’t describe Paris, you simply had to feel it. Back then you thought it was cheesy and cliché of him to say but you knew how much Taehyung loved the city so you never said anything about it.
By now you felt the same way about Taehyung – it was hard to describe being with him, it was something you simply had to feel. And you felt it all, every positive emotion there was, over the span of many years.
You felt the comfort and joy of being loved by the man himself and once again he was proving to you that he was the best boyfriend anyone could have. It has always been like that. And that made it only harder to think of a life without him.
The two of you were walking under the pink-tinted evening sky, people were all around you, pushing and shoving, not caring if anyone gets run over.
“Are you okay?” Taehyung suddenly asked you, taking your wrist in his hand while hurrying to guide you through the crowded street, “I know this must be terrible for you since you hate crowded places.”
“I’ll survive,” you joked, appreciating the way he made sure to get you out of this mess as fast as possible, “Where are we even going?”
To your luck, the ending of the crowded street was right in front of you. The warm summer air was hugging you as you walked next to Taehyung and even though he let go of your wrist again, you took his hand in yours.
For most people that wouldn’t be a big thing but it must have been several months since you and Taehyung were holding hands in public – it almost felt like you were holding hands for the first time again.
“I thought we could start at the street with the cafe we always went to last time,” he immediately shot you a wide smile at your surprising action, squeezing your hand lightly, “I’m so happy to be back.”
You let out a laugh as the two of you were walking down the streets of Paris, “I thought you planned this to sweep me off my feet again but I see, you just did this because you missed Paris.”
It was nice to hear his laugh again, one without worries and filled with genuine joy, “Hey, I’m having the best of both worlds, just like Hannah Montana used to teach us when we were young.”
“Very wise. You’re an idiot,” you replied amused as you eyed the familiar café, a rather small one with the cutest tables out of green metal that reminded you of the ones your grandmother used to have in her garden.
“I agree,” he smiled while coming to a halt in front of the cafe, “But at least I’m your idiot.”
If any other men would say something incredibly cheesy as that it would have made you cringe instantly but Taehyung mastered the art of predictable flirting so well that you almost felt like blushing.
The two of you sat down outside of the cafe on one of the small, round tables as Taehyung ordered two café au lait for you. The ambiance was full of life as people were chattering all around you, enjoying their Friday evening just like you were. There were enough people around you to give the two of you a weird sense of privacy, everyone too busy with their own life to pay attention to anything else.
“I remember last time we were here a mad Jimin called you in the middle of our little date because you accidentally took his keys with you,” you reminisced.
Taehyung remembered that call too well, fearing for his life back then, “It’s been so long, I almost forgot I used to live with him.”
“To be fair, I snatched you away from him pretty fast,” you answered, “We moved in together so fast, once you moved in with Jimin we already made plans to move out again.”
Your boyfriend’s face was resting on his hand as his whole attention diverted to you, his eyes sparkling as he was listening to you talk about old times, “I remember your father wanting to kill me because he thought we were rushing things."
It was heartwarming to think about all the past memories, the smile on your face never leaving as you were talking about them, “You and my dad have come a long way. He might even like you at this point.”
“Well, it only took me several years of convincing him that I’m not leaving,” Taehyung was right. It was a fight for him to make your father like him but he never gave up, “I think as long as you’re not pregnant I’m fine for now.”
“If I’d come home pregnant he’d chase you down with a machete for sure,” the thought alone had you bit your lip so you wouldn’t burst out laughing, “I don’t think he would want to become a grandfather anytime soon.”
Agreeing, Taehyung nodded, "Thank god, I think us becoming parents now would be rather chaotic."
The two of you were having an easy-going conversation, a rare thing nowadays, for what felt like an eternity. He told you about his newest client that he disliked so much and you told him about the new band you discovered and instantly fell in love with. It was almost scary to realize how few things you talked about over the last time despite living under the same roof.
Two coffees each and several topics later, Taehyung and you decided that it was time to leave the café for now, even though you already agreed on coming back for breakfast the next day.
“Where are we going next?” you asked him, wondering what this night still had to offer for you.
As he was standing up he offered you his hand and you gladly took it, “Let me surprise you.”
About twenty minutes later you were sitting down on a picnic blanket on a grassy area close to the Eiffel Tower. Last time you were sitting there, Taehyung kept on insisting how sad it was that he already had kissed you several times before because he thought this would have been the most perfect first kiss to ever exist.
To this day you remember how whiny he was about it, not shutting up until you made him with a long kiss.
“Do you still remember how upset I was about the whole first kiss thing?” Taehyung asked with a smirk on his face while searching for something in his back.
Chuckling, you nodded, if only he knew that you thought about the same exact thing just a second ago, “I just wanted to enjoy the view but you kept on whining.”
“Stop making fun of me,” he laughed, handing you a bottle of wine and a corkscrew, “It was a missed opportunity. Imagine how cool it would be to tell our children about our romantic first kiss under the Eiffel tower. But no, our first kiss was an absolute mess.”
“Stop dragging it,” you insisted with a laugh, “It was perfectly fine.”
Scoffing, he got out a lunchbox filled with several croissants and some cheese, “Perfectly fine? We were drunk in Jeongguk’s bed with Hoseok and Becca spying on us through the window.”
“I loved it,” you assured him, laughing brightly. You did love it - it was perfect in its own way, “Maybe it wasn’t 'kissing under the Eiffel Tower while being wine-drunk' perfect, but it was enough to make my heart flutter.”
Taehyung's deep chuckle as he was thinking back to your first kiss was almost endearing, “I was so nervous back then. I kept on hoping that you wouldn’t try to hold my hand because it was super sweaty.”
Drinking the wine straight out of the bottle, you and Taehyung enjoyed the view as the sun was almost gone and the Eiffel Tower was shining brightly.
It was so easy to think of the old times, back when both of you had nothing to worry about ever because your relationship was the strongest thing to exist at those times.
“We were so much younger,” you laughed as you laid down, head resting in Taehyungs lap, “Just two college kids with no worries.”
Taehyung’s long fingers were playing with your hair as he was looking down to you – the sparkle in his eyes was still there, even after everything you’ve put him through. It never went away, not when you first told him you’re reconsidering you’re relationship, not when you started to sleep on the sofa, not even when you confessed that you weren’t sure about your feelings anymore.
How hard it must have been for him to watch you fall out of love right in front of him without being able to stop it happening – and still he never stopped fighting. This trip was just another try to save your relationship.
And honestly speaking, you felt closer to him right then and there than you did in months. As you were looking up into his eyes, in the city of love, with a thousand stars in the sky you almost thought you could go back to normal. But what would happen as soon as you were back home, the risk of your everyday life catching up and cursing you once again?
He offered you a breathy chuckle, not breaking the eye contact for even a second, “We’re still young, buttercup.”
“Why does it feel like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders then?" you asked him with  a pout, "It certainly wasn't like that in college."
"That's probably because we stopped drinking in the middle of the week," he joked, his fingers were slowly wandering from your hair down to your cheek, caressing it lovingly.
He managed to get out a chuckle from you, enough for him to be satisfied. Nodding, you agreed with him, "You might not be wrong about that. But that's what I mean. We couldn't just get drunk in the middle of the week because we're simply feeling like it anymore. We're too old for that."
Taehyung let out a laugh, shaking his head in disagreement, "Let me prove you wrong. Next week, I'll buy a bottle of your favorite liquor just for the two of us and we'll drink it in the middle of the week and the next morning we'll both call in sick."
"No way," you scoffed with wide eyes, "We can't just do that."
Your reaction was too cute for Taehyung to handle, he could swear he felt his heart melting at the shock in your face, "Of course we can. And we will."
"You're insane," you told him, "We can't skip work because we're hungover. We have responsibilities."
Taking your hand in his he brought it up to his mouth, kissing every finger individually, "Stop discussing with me. We can and we will. You're always overworking yourself and I bet it could help you relax. Just trust me."
Laughing, you realized that Taehyung was actually serious, "Alright, Tae. I trust you. Let's do it."
It was about 10 p.m. when you and Taehyung decided to end your little picnic and continued your evening in the form of taking a walk along the Seine, your eyes glued to the shimmering reflection of the city lights on the water. Your hand was held by Taehyung’s, exactly where it seemed to belong.
“Hey, stop, for a second” Taehyung suddenly stated, standing still and making you do the same. As you turned around, you saw him smiling at the sky with his mouth slightly open, reaching out to the sky with his free hand.
“What is it?” you asked with a laugh on your lips, wondering what Taehyung was so fascinated by. all of a sudden
Freeing his eyes from the night sky he looked at you, raising his eyebrow playfully before his arm wrapped around your waist and instantly pulled you close to him, your body stumbling into his as his hand found your face.
“I swear I just felt a raindrop,” his eyes were full of excitement like the ones of a child and it was almost funny to see him like that, “This is just perfect.”
“It’s not raining,” you shook your head playfully, amusement in your voice, “I didn’t feel anything. You’re halluci–”
You were cut off before you could end your sentence, your face now shooting upwards too after you felt a raindrop on you. Taehyung and you both were standing there, him holding you close as you were waiting for another one.
“I told you,” he laughed, “I just felt another one.”
And just then, you also felt one more raindrop on you. And shortly after, another one.
“No way,” you whispered amazed before looking Taehyung in the eyes, shaking your head in disbelief, “There’s no way it’s starting to rain right now. This can’t be a coincidence. You planned this.”
The smile on his face was replaced with sincerity in his eyes, the situation turned serious within seconds as slowly but surely, more and more raindrops hit you.
It almost hurt to look Taehyung in the eyes, the moment a bit too perfect to be true. His arm was pulling you a bit closer to him, closing the remaining space between your chests.
“Do you remember what I said three years ago?” he asked with a certain carefulness in his voice.
You only nodded in response, both of you awfully aware of the tragedy of the situation. Of course, you remembered Taehyung's promised last time it was raining while you were walking along the Seine.
“Due to the circumstances I will obviously not drop down to my knees now,” his voice was filled with pain, “But I want you to know that if we manage to get over this and one day come back here I’ll do it without a doubt.”
It always has been one of your personal favorite memories – you and Taehyung, in the pouring rain in the middle of the night, right where you were standing at that moment. A strong feeling of required love to the fullest between the two of you.
The way your heart was racing and your stomach was tingling when Taehyung promised you that the next time he would take you here he would come to the Seine again on a rainy night and he’d ask you to marry him.
He was so sure of it, so sure that it would happen. Ever since you started dating, both of you were sure that you'd end up getting married one day. Not only you but everyone around you thought so.
Back then, no one could’ve known that the next time you would come you were coming to save your relationship instead of taking it to the next level.
You didn’t have to look at Taehyung to know that his eyes were filled with tears, the way his voice sounded already gave him away. You tried hard to stay calm, a deep sigh coming from you as you once again longed for Taehyung's and your happiness.
By now the rain was pouring, both of your hair sticking to your face and your clothes draining.
“We drifted away from each other,” you repeated what you told him ever so often quietly, your forehead resting against his chest, hoping for some kind of comfort, “but I don’t want to lose you. You’re still my best friend and partner in crime. But you also deserve someone who loves you more than I am capable of right now.”
You felt Taehyung’s hand on the back of your head, holding your head close to your chest right before his lips pressed against your forehead. The two of you haven’t had that much skinship in a long time and you almost forgot how much comfort the broad man could give you.
“Well,” he laughed lightly through the tears, “I don’t want anyone but you. It’s always been like that. I just need you to want me too, that’s all we need to work it out.”
Another quick kiss was pressed to your forehead before you dared to look up again, a few of your boyfriend’s tears getting mixed up with the raindrops on his skin but even though the situation was sad you could see a bit of hope in his eyes.
"I don't know where we went wrong," he started talking again after realizing that you were at a loss for words, "but if you close your eyes and think of the future right now, don't you see me in it?"
You never thought of it that way. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine how your ideal life would look like in five years.
The scenario in your mind was a clear picture – You, on your birthday, coming home from work. You moved out of your current apartment into a house with more space and more daylight, your parents were there, smiling brightly, your best friend was there too, you saw Jeongguk and Jimin playing with your nephew in the garden, running around like crazy and you noticed Yeontan, running after them.
And then you saw Taehyung – not as your boyfriend but instead as your husband, lighting candles on your cake with the brightest smile, just waiting to kiss you and tell you he's proud of you – with nothing but admiration in his eyes. As soon as you noticed him you felt a tight feeling in your chest, not necessarily a bad one though. It gave you a sense of home, a place you belonged to.
Of course, you knew that this was only your imagination, your ideal idea of the future, and that the reality most likely will be different but he had a point – even though it is hard, you haven't given up completely yet.
“You think we can still save this?” you asked him as you wiped the tears from his cheeks, “What if we go home again and fall into old patterns?”
Slowly, he shook his head no with a sigh before both of his hands found your face and you felt him come closer.
And a few moments later you felt Taehyung’s warm lips on you, the contrast to the cold raindrops sending shivers down your spine. The kiss was slow, romantic, and meaningful – it said more than any spoken words ever could.
It meant that he would take care of you, he would work through every problem with you, he would fight and would hold you close. All of the things you always knew, just forgot over time.
Taehyung was always there and he would always be, as long as you let him.
As he broke the kiss, his forehead still against yours he grinned at you, satisfied with the feeling he knew he just gave you. Taehyung felt it too, the butterflies that went right to your stomach.
“See,” he quietly laughed, “I want to make you smile for the rest of your life. That is if you let me.”
You shot him a smile, a real one, one you actually meant, “Let’s go home, Tae. I’m cold and I want to take a warm shower.”
And like that the two of you walked through the rain, hand in hand, talking about everything that came to your mind.
Taehyung, the gentlemen he was, shielded you from the rain by holding his jacket over your head the whole time, working hard as your personal umbrella.
Despite your feet hurting and the rain pouring, the way home was not bothering you at all. It was nice to see Paris at night once again, especially with Taehyung not able to keep quiet about every little thing he loved about it. Every few seconds he'd point to a building or a statue and one time even to a simple bus stop to tell you how pretty it was.
About twenty minutes later the two of you were finally back inside the hotel room, completely drenched and freezing. Even though it was rather late by now, you weren't feeling tired, the adrenaline of the spontaneous trip and all the impressions of today keeping you awake.
The warm water hitting your body as you stepped into the shower was much needed to prevent you from freezing to death. You suddenly became awfully aware of how tired your limbs felt, how exhausted your body was and how much you just wanted to lie down in bed, excited to share it with Taehyung again after such a long time.
Your thoughts were processing the evening – just yesterday you were still doubting that you and Taehyung could ever go back to normal but seeing him today, proving that he still is able to manage to sweep you off your feet, you felt positive.
It might take some hard work and a lot of changes but both of you were more than willing to do anything for your relationship.
As you heard the bathroom door open, you were torn out of your thoughts.
“I’m coming in,” Taehyung warned you with a giggle before the shower curtain was opening, your tan and muscular boyfriend standing in front of you, offering you a big smile.
“What are you waiting for?” you asked playfully as he was hesitating for a moment, not sure if you’d be okay with him joining you but he won’t let you tell him twice.
Hugging you from behind, he pressed a  small kiss right under your ear. You almost forgot how sensational it was to feel his skin on yours, the feeling of it leaving a warm and burning desire in your stomach.
“I missed this so much,” his voice was almost whiny, pressing kisses to the back of your shoulder between every word as his hand was drawing circles on your hipbone, “Missed you so much.”
Turning around to face him, you gave him a small peck with your arms wrapped around his neck, “I missed you too. We should go to Paris more often."
“I’d love to just pick you up and kiss you wildly against the wall right now but the chances that we both slip and die in the process are too high,” he made both of you laugh.
"As sexy as that sounds, I'd prefer no broken bones tonight," you said before leaning in for a kiss. The water between the two of you was kind of distracting but you couldn't care less, just wanting Taehyung to hold you close.
This was the nicest shower you took in the longest time – while Taehyung was busy kissing your jawline, down to your neck, down to your collarbone, and so on, you were shampooing his hair, making him giggle as the kind gesture.
"This feels peaceful," he hummed with his face nuzzled into your neck, hugging you tightly as he was waiting for you to be done so the two of you could go to bed, "I won't let you stay on the couch tonight. Don't you dare to even try."
Turning the water off and reaching for the towels next to the shower you laughed, rubbing his hair with it playfully, the messy wet hair in combination with his puppy eyes being a dangerous combination, "I wouldn't even if you forced me to."
Both of you were slipping into your bathrobes, ready to go to bed after such an eventful day.
"Taehyung," you gasped as you opened the door to the room, your heart skipping a beat, "I don't deserve that."
You were greeted with lit candles all over the room, your favorite show on Netflix already waiting to be played and the biggest bouquet of roses standing on the nightstand.
His arms wrapped around you from behind and you could basically hear the smile he had on his face, "I told you tonight will be a mixture of old and new memories. We had all the old ones, now it's time to create some new ones."
He walked over to the bed, making himself comfortable, "Aren't you going to join me?"
Shaking your head, you told him to wait for a second, looking for something in your handbag.
When you found what you were looking for, you opened the door to the balcony, Taehyung following you, wondering what you had in mind now.
As soon as he saw you crouching down, close to the wall he knew exactly what was going on. Crouching down beside you he kissed your temple as he admired the new artwork decorating the wall.
"I love you still, so much," he almost sounded touched, the small action meaning a lot to him, "We'll get through this. I promise."
370 notes · View notes
jwood719 · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Looking at the Old Railroads: Illinois Railway Museum, Labor Day 2021.
Four years might be over-long, but I at last made another return trip to the Illinois Railway Museum for one of their event weekends: in this case, IRM’s “Night Trains,”  with the museum and grounds staying open late – until 9:30 instead of the usual 6:00 PM – to allow visitors to experience things, literally, in a different light.  
Tumblr media
If IRM is famous for anything, it’s probably for the St. Louis and San Francisco (Frisco) No. 1630, the 1918 steam locomotive (as seen above) along with it’s usual consist of Lackawanna mail car and day coaches; and the Nebraska Zephyr, once operated by the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad (Burlington Route), the diesel powered passenger train (below, next to the Chicago Aurora & Elgin interurban  309/319 pair).
Tumblr media
Though the Zephyr rolled out late in the day, it’s likely it’s presence, alongside No. 1630, enlivened the last few hours of the Night Train event on Sunday.  Any time either train waited at the platform, rail fans’ attentions were fairly riveted.
A short span of my time at the museum was actually spent away from the museum grounds.  A couple miles south of the museum IRM’s main line meets its one county road crossing; a small turn-out is available (intentionally or not) where visitors can park and wait for the tourist runs to pass by.  It proved fruitful this time as the Zephyr and 1630 ran consecutively, allowing scenes like this:
Tumblr media
The diesel eclipses the steamer.
As with the traction power, I discovered the hard way that my night-time shooting lacks finesse -- but since I rarely shoot in very low light, I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise; much less very low light when the subject is in motion.  The best was this:
Tumblr media
which has a certain something to it, but the locomotive is blurred more than I’d like.  Just have to keep up the effort I suppose; sooner or later I’ll manage something.  The static shots were better, though the clusters of rail fans bobbing around the front end of the locomotives made a clear shot difficult.  The ambient light wasn’t anything special either, just the normal lighting in the park; some of the rail fans, toward the end of the night, introduced their own light as I played around with exposures.  Some of their effort is seen in the waving lights of my shot:
Tumblr media
I mean, if I had my way, I’d keep everyone off at a little distance and introduce some low-intensity floodlight, so that the trains could be photographed under nighttime-conditions, but not in darkness.  I don’t want to use my flash, I want the locomotives at night!  But, hey that’s me; you do you, right?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nebraska Zephyr on the main siding.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1630 at the depot.
Despite the minor frustration with the photographs, it was still neat-o to see the trains as day transformed to night, with the sunlight glinting off the rolling stock at lower and lower angles.
Tumblr media
And on the long list of “one of these days” is making a trip specifically to shoot the trains out on the main run in the morning when the sun is illuminating them from the front end, instead of off the side and behind!  Yeah, one of these days.
Illinois Railway Museum
Photos: R. Jake Wood, 2021.
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
ayatosmlktea · 4 years
Text
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫𝑾𝑰𝑫𝑬
Tumblr media
Pairings: Bokuto x Reader
Genre: Fluff, a lil tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Just a lil something I wrote for @soltserra​ one night! This song is based on Worldwide from Big Time Rush and I highly HIGHLY recommend listening to it while you read because 1) it’s a masterpiece and 2) it makes the fic 10x better
Also I literally know nothing about sports so pls...be kind :3
The news comes as a shock to Bokuto, he knew that eventually it was going to happen but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, being drafted into one of the biggest volleyball teams in the world. Of course he was excited, he had been thrilled so much so that he could barely contain his excitement and had nearly grabbed the manager in for a hug before remembering to remain professional.
 His dreams were finally coming to fruition and the first person his mind thought of after hearing the offer was you. His rock through thick and thin, his highschool sweetheart. Unable to wait any until he got home he dialed your number, bouncing with excitement as he waited for you to pick up.
Frowning when his call went to voicemail he figured you must have been busy, it didn’t matter. That meant he’d get to share the news with you in person!
Rushing home, he stopped along the way to pick up your favourite takeout to celebrate. Their lives were about to change in the best way possible and there was no one else he wanted to go on this journey with.
Practically running home, he bounded up the steps to your shared apartment two at a time eager to tell you the good news.
Upon entering the apartment he found you fast asleep on the couch, placing the food on the kitchen counter Bokuto sat down next to you, gently stroking your hair.
“Hey love, I got dinner” he says softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Pulling the light blanket over your  head you groaned something incoherent into the cushions.
“I got your favourite! Sushi burritos” At the mention of food you poke you head out from under the blankets, suddenly wide awake.
“Food” Bokuto laughs loudly, wrapping his arms around you to plant wet kisses on your cheeks.
“So you’ll wake up for food but not me? That hurts” he sniffles before continuing his assault of kisses all over your face.
“Move, I’m hungry” Turning your head away from his face you struggle to slip out of his arms.
“Can I at least have a kiss for being the world’s best boyfriend and bringing my beautiful girlfriend her favourite dinner?” Bokuto pouted, you had gotten used to his childish temper after being together for so long but for some reason right now it was funnier than usual.
“If you wash the dishes too you might get one later” Flashing him a cheeky smile you shoved your hands against his chest, walking into the kitchen to inspect the food. Not even waiting to sit down, you lean on the kitchen island unwrapping your food and take a hasty first bite.
“So there’s something I wanted to tell you about!” Bokuto says abruptly. Your eyes leave your burrito, with a curious look on your face.
“I got an offer to play for that American team I was telling you about”
“Oh my God! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you Bo” You knew how big of a deal it was for him to get drafted by this team, putting down your food you shuffled over to give him a hug.
“I know right! We have a few weeks to get settled into our new place. We should probably start packing tomorrow” The longer Bokuto rambled on, the bigger the pit of dread grew in your stomach.
“We?”
“Yeah, you and me babe.” His smile is so hopeful and full of excitement that it feels wrong to have to crush his spirits.
“I-I can’t go with you, I can’t just quit my job and move across the world with you”
Bokuto’s face fell instantly, he hadn’t expected this. He’d been so caught up in telling you the news, that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might not be able to come with him.
“I’ll come visit you! But for now, it’s not possible. I’m sorry”
“It’s fine! Like you said, you can come visit me” He was trying to brush off his disappointment for you, but you knew that he was upset. The rest of dinner was spent in an uncomfortable silence.
‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾  ☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙
It had been almost three months since Bokuto had seen you, the two of you tried to call as often as you could but it was difficult with the time difference. While you  were on your lunch break Bokuto was already fast asleep. The only time you really got to spend with each other was on the weekends, and even then it was never enough. 
The way your eyes would become glossy with tears never went unnoticed but he didn’t want to say anything that would make you cry. It ripped his heart into shreds knowing that you were crying and he couldn’t do anything about it. He sent you pictures everyday along with cute messages reminding you that he loved you. Bokuto spent most of his nights going through old pictures and videos of the two of you  together. 
On days where they weren’t able to call at all, he’d go through his voicemail until he found an old message from you. It didn’t matter what you were saying, the sound of your voice alone was enough to help ease his homesickness.
Volleyball took up a lot of his time and most of his energy but you were always on his mind. Everything he was doing was for your future. The sooner he became successful, the sooner you’d be able to come live with him in America.
Lately,you seemed more distant. You didn’t send him as many texts like you usually did and whenever he tried to make plans to call you, there was always something keeping you busy. Doubts of you falling out of love with him were putting him on edge, the rational side of him tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid for no reason. You were an honest person, and if you were falling out of love with him he trusted you to tell him.
Regardless, the thought of not having you in his life was enough to start affecting his playing. His serves were off, his spikes were not timed properly. He’d been yelled at by their coach more times in one week than he had in his entire time spent on his highschool team. It was beginning to irritate him, as much as he wanted to get his head in the game he couldn’t stop worrying about you. Thoughts of you dating another man, kissing someone who wasn’t him, holding someone else’s hand were all starting to drive him crazy.
When practice ends, Bokuto leaves feeling frustrated, he knows  he can play better than that. He knows what he needs to do, he knows how to time his jumps so why can’t he just focus on the game. Pulling out his phone, he scrolls through his notifications hoping that you had sent him something, anything to make his disappointing day a bit better.
But there’s nothing.
He doesn’t even want to eat, his mood is so sour that all he can think of is taking a shower and crawling into bed. His emo mode reaching new levels of pettiness. The walk back to his apartment is spent hoping that you would be able to call him. A week of bare minimum communication was making him crazy. He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to actually walk out of his life. The thought alone makes his throat constrict.
“Why do you look constipated?” A distinct chuckle instantly grabs his attention. His eyes dart up from the sidewalk to find you standing outside of his apartment complex. For a second Bokuto doesn’t know how to react, his mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether or not he’s hallucinating.
“Are you gonna stand there all day or are you gonna let me in? I’m hung-” Bokuto races forward, grabbing you and enveloping you in a bone crushing hug.
“I missed you so much” he mumbles, suddenly finding it hard to get his words out. He’s so sure that he’s dreaming and any second his alarm will go off, waking up once again to an empty bed. But the smell of your shampoo is right under his nose and your arms are squeezing him back in a way that feels too real to be a dream.
“I missed you too”
“What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining”
“I requested a transfer to our American branch, that’s why I’ve been distant this past week. I was so excited I didn’t want to give anything away” You confess shyly, averting your gaze from his face. Cupping your cheeks with both of his hands he leans down to kiss you passionately, the feeling of your lips against his after so long feels so good that it sets every nerve in his body on fire.
“I love you, so much” he says, tightening his arms around your  body. All the doubts he’d been having immediately disappeared. It was stupid to think that after all this time a little distance would come between you two. It didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together Bokuto was complete.
“I love you too Bo”
117 notes · View notes
catboymingi · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
your majesty, the simp - veninder chap. 5
navi/masterlist
story masterlist
pairing: mingi x reader
genre: a little crack, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers
word count: 6.4k
warnings: no specific ones! some moments of anxiety but that is simply how it be with this fic
a/n: there is one (1) single link in this in the same manner as in bittersweet, taking to the song the lyric was taken from with the translation on hover! also shoutout to that one very specific german friend in the language discord that is always right there to answer to my (INSERT WORD) IN ENGLISH BUT I NEED THESE VERY SPECIFIC VIBES, you’re the real mvp and without you none of my chapters would ever be finished
de ved hvad vi lavede / gid at de var ligeglade / for de vil blande sig i alting - they know what we did / let’s hope they don’t care / because they want to meddle in everything
of course your alarm rang at five again, because even though you probably should have you hadn’t turned it off last night, too tired to even remember you had it set in the first place. or rather, that mingi didn’t have an alarm set for five. and now that it was ringing you couldn’t turn it off, seeing how the giant was still entirely wrapped around you, effectively caging you between him and the wall. it seemed like he hadn’t yet realised that the unpleasant sound was your alarm, because he made no effort to move, just groaning a little and holding you even tighter rather than letting you slip free.
“mingi”, you whined out, poking his side in an attempt to get him to let go so you could turn off that annoying beeping alarm that was most definitely going to give you a headache if it kept ringing. but no reaction other than him shuffling slightly.
you tried again, dragging the last i of his name in hopes that he’d maybe react if his name lasted upwards of ten seconds, though you found yourself disappointed once again.
“why is it so impossible to wake you up”, you complained, and because you really wanted the alarm to stop because you could feel the headache approaching already you shifted slightly, and then you pushed against the wall with your legs as hard as you could, hoping to be able to move the giant next to you this way.
you hadn’t expected it to work as well as it did, maybe having pushed a little too hard, because next thing you knew you were on the floor, on top of mingi, whom you had just successfully caused to fall out of bed. it wasn’t a high fall, he most definitely wasn’t actually hurt, but you still felt bad, apologising profusely, though you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing.
“don’t laugh at me”, you heard a huff from underneath you.
“just let me turn off the alarm.” he could clearly hear the pout in your voice, and first then did he realise that he was still somewhat wrapped around you and that there was an incredibly annoying background noise making this situation even less pleasant.
“you’re lucky you’re so cute”, you continued as you made your way to where your phone was and turned off the sound that had you inclined to just throw the phone against the wall to let out your frustration.
“how is getting kicked out of bed at five in the night lucky?” he’d sat up and was now looking at you with an incredulous expression on his face.
“you’re lucky because i let you go back to bed now”, and even though he didn’t exactly consider himself lucky for being allowed to sleep until the same time any normal person would he wasn’t about to complain and risk having to stay up. instead he just launched himself back into bed, looking at you expectantly.
you joined him with a sigh and laughed when his arm was wrapped around you just a few seconds after you’d laid down.
“you’re so cuddly when you’re sleepy.” you weren’t one to talk, because that was most definitely a characteristic you had as well, but right now he was the only one still incredibly tired since unlike him you were used to getting up at this time, so you could tease him without the risk of being teased back.
“like a baby.” but you weren’t complaining; it was cute, to be honest, so you gladly let him pull you into his chest. he just hummed at your teasing, seemingly too tired to even care, and you checked on your phone to make 100% sure the alarms at least until eight were turned off and you wouldn’t wake him up in less than half an hour again.
it was then that you saw the messages in ‘hyung hate club’ - apparently mingi had neglected to inform the boys that he wasn’t coming home, and they were worried, naturally, considering what kind of weather it had been the day before. so you decided to shoot them a message letting them know that he was fine, and that was a good decision in itself, but what was much less good was the fact that when you exited that chat you were faced with the reality of the girls’ group chat again. you immediately left the app and locked your phone, once more inclined to throw it against the wall.
despite how sleepy he was, the tall redhead noticed that you were tensing up, and he held you even closer ever so slightly, stroking up and down your arm with calm, rhythmic movements. it helped, but you knew you’d have to leave the chat sooner or later, and you wanted it to be sooner rather than later. wanted it to be now.
“mingi?”
“hm?” he sounded somewhat awake now and you started feeling guilty about that, because it was illegally early and you knew he wanted to sleep, but here you were, keeping him up.
“can you leave for me?”
if you hadn’t been holding on to your phone like that he might have been confused by what exactly you meant in his half-awake state, but he quickly understood what you meant. “of course. now?”
you unlocked the device in reply, opening the app before you handed it to him. he’d turned around now, laying on his stomach to be able to more comfortably hold the phone, and it was your turn to move as close to him as possible.
a few silent seconds later mingi faced you, still holding your phone.
“should i delete the chat from your list or do you want to keep it?”
you might just have to marry him. you hadn’t even thought of deleting the chat, but now that he suggested it you wanted nothing more than for it to be gone right away, and you were so glad that he was willing to get rid of it for you.
“delete.” so he did, tapping on the screen a few more times before turning back to his side and giving your phone back to you. you looked at the list of chats for a moment, relieved to see the group chat gone, but handed your phone back to the boy next to you, having selected several private chats (all the chats with your now ex-friends), and it didn’t take long for him to realise what you wanted him to do.
“block or just delete?”
“both.”
he nodded, doing as asked, and once the chats were gone he pulled you back against his chest. you didn’t even need to ask him to - he could tell this was hard on you, and while he couldn’t do much he could be there. you appreciated it a lot, because you’d always been one to feel more comforted by physical contact rather than just words, especially since you often didn’t even want to talk about what was wrong in the moment it affected you most. and even though mingi barely even knew you he instinctively managed to comfort you the way you needed to be comforted.
“try to sleep some more”, mingi told you with his deep, calm voice, and because you didn’t want to have to deal with your anxiety yet you did, the tall boy wrapped around you and making you feel safe.
you were surprised that you’d actually managed to sleep some more when your 8am alarm rang; you’d expected yourself to just lay there anxiously and trying to reduce your nervous heartbeat until it beat at the same rate as the redhead’s, but it seemed like your body had been desperate for any small break it could get.
you were greeted with a low “good morning” once your alarm was turned off, and “morning” you said back. his arms were still around you and you were weirdly happy about that, enjoying the warmth he provided. but you knew you’d have to get up, and soon at that, since it wasn’t weekend yet and you’d have to go to university at some point.
“do you want fruit loops again?” you could feel him nod against your head, so you let yourself slide off the bed and onto the ground before getting up and fetching your breakfast.
“with milk or do you have taste now?”
“i’ve always had taste”, you heard mingi huff from the bed behind you, resulting in a grin spreading across your face, “it just got better since yesterday.”
“so no milk.” and even though you weren’t facing him yet he could hear the smile in your voice, and he felt a weird mix of pride and happiness because he was the one that’d made you smile.
his expression showed these emotions as well, though you weren’t able to interpret the grin on his face when you sat back down next to him.
“please don’t tell me there’s drool on my face”, you groaned as you handed him the bowl, and first then did his expression change from whatever it had been before to a surprised one.
“why would you?” his wide, curious eyes and messy bed hair were way more adorable than they should be considering he was also sporting abs and no shirt.
“because you’re staring at me all weird!”
it seemed like he hadn’t even realised that he was doing that, though, because as soon as you called him out he averted his gaze, staring at the fruit loops instead as if he’d never seen anything more fascinating in his entire life. you didn’t fully understand his reaction, but you were still somewhat dazed from having woken up not too long ago, so you didn’t ask about it. instead you followed his example and gave the fruit loops in your own bowl your undivided attention as you started eating.
the first few minutes were spent in silence, just crunching at each other as if it was a valid method of communication - you were morse-crunching, except neither of you knew morse code, so you were probably just keysmashing in morse -, until your fake conversation was interrupted by a real question.
“what language was the movie in yesterday? like, the voices.”
“finnish. i watched it like that as a child, too, so that might be why i fell asleep so fast.” you let out a short, embarrassed laugh because you’d just straight up fallen asleep on him while he was watching the movie that you had chosen. but he didn’t think it was embarrassing at all; quite the opposite, he thought it was cute.
“it sounded nice. though i felt like they said twice the amount of words than the subtitles showed.” the last statement was a little bit of a whine, because mingi was scared he’d missed something just because he’d been dependent on the subtitles rather than being able to understand what was being said.
“i checked the subtitles a little in the beginning to make sure they were good, don’t worry”, you reassured him, your voice laughter-adjacent, “finnish words are just extraordinarily long.”
and again he seemed actually curious about the language you’d grown up with, asking you to tell him the longest word you could think of.
“it’s probably by far not the longest”, you warned him, “but i think käyttämättömällämmeköhän is long? don’t quote me on that though.”
“what does it mean?” his eyes trained to your face as he waited for the translation.
“unused even by us? it’s hard to translate, there’s a lot of grammar in there.”
“that’s one word?” he couldn’t believe it, refused to believe it because that was so many different things going on at once and you just claimed half a sentence was a single word in finnish.
“yeah. we stan linguistics”, you joked, trying to hold in your laugh as his completely dumbfounded expression.
“but… how?” it seemed like he was unable to wrap his head around the fact that so much could be said with a single word, so you tried to break it up into its components, and a delighted ‘aah!’ left his mouth when he finally understood it after the third attempt.
“you’re learning so much already”, your voice half teasing, half impressed.
“because you know so many things to teach me, i need to keep up with you somehow!”
“don’t act like you don’t know a bunch of things that i don’t know! aren’t you like, a maths major?”
and though it hadn’t been your intention to get this result, you just couldn’t decline when mingi offered you to teach you some maths in return because he seemed equally as excited about his subject as you knew you were about yours.
“only if you keep geometry away from me. that’s a hard no”, you let him know, and he nodded right away.
“no geometry! got it.” then he continued crunching, incredibly satisfied with himself, and you were convinced that this was the first time that you’d ever heard someone chew on their fruit loops in an audibly self-satisfied way.
//
the rest of the morning was spent comfortable like that, as well - you finished up breakfast, then got changed and went to the boys’ place (though you took a little detour because the weather was much nicer than it had been the night before and the air smelled fresh), where you hung out until you had to go to university. the giant insisted on giving you a hug before you each left for your own class, and a hug as soon as he saw you at lunch, and then he all but kicked wooyoung off the bench so there’d be space for you next to him, and then he kept sitting shoulder to shoulder while you ate. you were painfully oblivious to the knowing glances the two of you got from your friends while mingi was once more about to use the cutlery to commit a crime. instead he focused on aggressively eating, claiming he was just hungry when you shot him a slightly worried look.
“oh!”, you exclaimed in response, and then, “take some of mine! i’m not that hungry!” and before he could protest you were holding a spoonful of rice to his face and telling him to say ‘aah’. he shook his head because he knew if he’d let you feed him the boys would never let him live this down, but when you looked at him with big pleading eyes and a small pout on your face before slowly lowering the spoon, thinking he didn’t want your food, he grabbed your hand and guided it to his now wide open mouth.
while the boys were trying their best not to laugh at mingi’s completely whipped expression, you were focused on feeding him the rest of your food, because you really weren’t hungry anymore and your brain had apparently decided that he needed to be babied.
feeding people was a weird situation for you, as was the majority of affection that koreans seemed to not think twice about displaying towards their friends. there was a weird level of dissociation between what you were willing to display towards others and what you were willing to accept from others, and the standard varied from act to act, as well - with holding hands, you’d accept if someone else grabbed yours, but you wouldn’t grab someone else’s, while with feeding it was the other way round, which confused the redhead as he tried to feed you a piece of his dessert and you refused to accept it.
when he’d finally given up on his attempts to give you some food you looked at him apologetically and said: “that’s a boyfriend thing.”
“but you fed me?” he sounded so confused, and you could really understand it, because these double standards didn’t exactly make a lot of sense.
“that’s not a boyfriend thing”, and at the complete lack of understanding apparent not only on his but also the other boys’ faces, “i know it’s fine to feed friends, like, technically. but it feels like when others feed me, that’s way too intimate to just do it? because my parents would never just randomly feed even each other, the standard is so different. it’s weird.” and you laughed to mask your embarrassment, because this really didn’t make any sense at all if you didn’t grow up with this experience.
“it is”, hongjoong confirmed, but he was grinning, obviously somewhat amused. “but it’s also kind of funny.”
“why’s it funny?” now it was you who didn’t understand, but the boy was quick to elaborate.
���you’ve been feeding mingi half your meal but as soon as he tried feeding you you got all flustered, it’s cute.”
him calling you out like this didn’t exactly help to make you less flustered though, hiding your face in the boy in question’s shoulder and whining out. the chorus of ‘cute’s  you got as a reaction only made it worse, and now you were trying to hide your entire upper body behind mingi.
“it’s not my fault! finns just don’t show affection like that. i don’t think my parents have ever actually hugged in public, so of course i think it’s weird that you just run around acting all cutesy all the time!”
now your shelter from the others’ teasing glares got worried, though, because he had very much been acting all cutesy with you and there was no guarantee that you hadn’t secretly been weirded out about that, and he moved so he could look at your face.
“you think i’m weird?” and maybe he shouldn’t be admitting to having acted cutesy with you when the boys were all sitting there (they’d barely witnessed anything, so he just outed himself, basically), but his worry about having made you uncomfortable was stronger than his embarrassment.
“no!”, you were quick to disagree. “you’re not weird. you’re cute.”
it was near impossible to not tease the two of you, but somehow the boys managed to hold it in, maybe partly because they were scared that it would become weird for you if they commented on it too much. while teasing was always fun, none of them ever wanted to genuinely make someone feel bad - so they formed a silent agreement that this would be off limits. that didn’t mean they wouldn’t tease mingi about it, though, and yeosang was the first to do so.
while his victim was busy giving you heart eyes he got out his phone, tapping around a little before sending a screenshot to their group chat. the others quickly did the same, knowing they might regret this the moment the only boy that hadn’t joined in saw that all seven of them had changed his contact name to ‘simp’. but he was very much whipped for you, obvious to everyone but the two of you.
“how was class?”, the redhead now asked you, body turned towards you completely to show you that you had his undivided attention.
“it was okay. though i’m still anxious whenever i see them, but that’s just how it is.” and then, because you didn’t want to talk about it further: “how was yours?”, a question directed at all eight of the boys.
the rest of lunch was spent happily chatting away about whatever came to mind, until mingi reminded you of the pyjama party you, in all honesty, had already forgotten about.
“friday to saturday for the pyjama party or saturday to sunday? which one’s better?”
your attempt at protesting was shut down immediately with a “but you promised!”, and because he seemed so excited and because you might have been whipped for him too, just a little bit, you sighed but agreed.
"saturday would be better for me", you informed him then, "how about you all?"
since no one had any objections you decided that you'd come over saturday around noon and that then the fun would start, as wooyoung claimed, which left everyone but him worried that fun was the last thing you'd call whatever would happen. but you were somewhat excited, admittedly, because you’d not been to a pyjama party that wasn’t held with the intention of getting into someone’s pants since you were like twelve, and though it maybe was childish you just wanted to have a pillow fight or something.
lunch was over soon after, and to your surprise your afternoon class that day was cancelled, so that you were able to go home already. though you weren’t sure if mingi had intended to study with you again that day you texted him, saying that class got cancelled and that he could come over as soon as his was over to study if he wanted to.
you made use of your extra freetime and finally got the groceries you’d neglected to get this entire week, and then just relaxed a little, reading one of your moomin books (that you had to search for because your bookshelf was both incredibly full and incredibly messy because it was so stuffed) with a long neglected playlist of finnish music running.
by the point mingi came over the book was long neglected, your room instead having become a single person-disco as you sang along. you felt more relaxed than you had all week, and though you tried to not embarrass yourself when you opened the door for him your attempt at that quickly failed when you registered that the chorus of your current song was playing in the background, joining in as you dragged the surprised redhead into your flat before resuming your silly dancing while still holding on to him, your energy forcing him to at least somewhat move along to the beat.
“tanssi mun kanssa!”, you laughed at him while attempting to get him to actually dance, and though he had no idea what on earth was going on he did - but unlike you it seemed like he actually knew how to dance, taking the lead as he swirled you around in the little space you had.
“so what exactly were we studying just now?”, mingi asked once you’d dropped to the floor out of breath, laughing.
“cultural differences in dance culture? no idea”, you replied, laughing just as much.
“what’s the difference?”
“if you’re representative for koreans and i’m representative for finns we can conclude that koreans are much better at it”, you informed him, “but finns are more likely to start an embarrassing dance party.”
“a sec.” and without explaining anything more he got out his phone, typing for a moment before locking it again and smiling at you.
“hm?” you cocked your head in curiosity, but all he told you was that it was a surprise and that it was time to start studying now. you weren’t pleased, but you nodded, soon forgetting about it as you became fully immersed in the topic.
he stayed rather late (for a study session, at least), leaving around ten after several hours of trying to understand the topic which you only interrupted in order to eat.
“you’re doing great!”, you praised him as you said goodbye, “it seems like you’re getting a hang of it really quickly.”
“that’s just because you got like a dozen different examples for everything, so at one point it clicks even for me.” the giant was getting shy at your praise, though he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it. it made him feel accomplished, in a way - he wanted to impress you, and it seemed like he might if he continued like this.
“i think you’re just smart”, you waved him off before hugging him. “get home safe?”
and because he was an embarrassing idiot taken aback by your hug, he replied: “you too”, even though you were literally standing in front of your building.
“i’ll try not to break my neck on the way back in.” but the smile you gave him was genuine, not teasing, and he nodded. then he took off, walking backwards and waving at you, almost running into a street lamp when he turned around to actually see where he was going. that made you laugh, waving at him one last time before you went back inside.
//
the next two days were spent similarly, studying with mingi after university, though you opted for a café near university on friday since both of you only had a morning class and thus wouldn’t be getting lunch there together.
“what do you want?”, with his head tilted to the side in curiosity, and even though you’d spent quite some time with him this past week you still couldn’t understand how someone his height could be so cute sometimes.
“you’re not going to pay for me.” he still insisted on paying for your train tickets whenever you took the train together, and you plain refused to let him pay for this, too.
“but maybe i’ll accidentally order two drinks even though i only wanted one and beg you to please drink the other one so i didn’t waste my money on it” was how he let you know that he would pay for your drink, whether you liked it or not.
“why are you like this”, you whined out in reply, but told him your order nonetheless.
“find us a seat? i’ll come once the drinks are done.”
you did as asked, though you wouldn’t have if you’d known that he planned on getting more than just your drinks. when he returned with a small tray you smiled at him, moving the notes you’d looked through while waiting out of the way, but that smile became a fake-annoyed expression when you saw the piece of cake he’d gotten. you knew he wouldn’t sit there and just eat by himself, so at least part of the money spent on the cake was spent for you.
“you’re the worst”, you informed him while rolling your eyes, even though you knew he wouldn’t care about that. 
and he didn’t, just grinning at you as he said: “i hope you like chocolate.”
“you’re impossible.”
“i’m impeccable.”
“let’s see if you still think so when i get out the big guns”, you teased, the big guns being contextual prestige related to different lects.
as expected, he did no longer think so when he had to understand not only the different lects (which you’d tried to teach him these past few days) but also that the prestige varied from situation to situation and that some people, depending on context, would choose to speak a usually less prestigious lect because of other factors.
“i’m going to die”, he groaned out, getting some cake because he really needed emotional support sweets right now.
“you’re doing fine”, you tried to reassure, patting his arm and smiling comfortingly. you were impressed he even managed to learn this much in such a short amount of time at all, so struggling with one topic that combined a lot of different ones wasn’t something that undermined the fact that you were dealing with a genius.
“do you want to take a break?”
you knew he wouldn’t ask for one (you had noticed that during your past study sessions, that he wouldn’t even tell you that he needed to use the bathroom but would dart off as soon as you told him to rest a little), but he was obviously grateful for this one. he enjoyed the silence that settled as both of you sipped on your drinks, eating a little cake every now and then, but something had been on his mind ever since he first saw the messages you’d been sent from the people that claimed to be your friends. and though he didn’t want to upset you he knew he’d end up asking sooner or later anyway, so he might as well do it now.
“why do your friends hate you so much?”, mingi asked, voice silent and calm to avoid upsetting you any more than this question probably already would. but you surprised him when you seemed rather unbothered.
“they kinda called dibs on you at that party where we met”, you explained, shrugging.
“dibs?”
“yeah. yeah. they’ve been arguing over who gets to have you the entire night, that’s why i was outside in the rain. and now they’re annoyed you’re spending time with me because i didn’t even call dibs in the first place.”
“so they hate you because you’re talking to someone they decided they had some kind of claim on?”
“mhm.”
“so if i stopped talking to you, in theory, they’d leave you alone?” the tall boy hated this thought, but he hated the thought of him being the reason for all these issues you had even more. you were quick to shut him down, though, not wanting him to even consider what he was obviously hinting at.
“don’t even think about it. that’s not going to help at all, and i don’t want you to stop, so drop that thought right now.” and while you pretended to be calm the thought of him just dropping you again when you’d just started to genuinely really enjoy his presence had you panic slightly.
“how wouldn’t it help? they’re mad because we talk, so if we don’t they have no reason to be mad anymore. or am i wrong?”
“you are. it’s not just about me talking to you still, it’s mainly about… control? they told me they don’t want me to talk to any of you and i did it anyway, and now they want to make sure i never do that again. they don’t like it when people aren’t all submissive for them.”
to you this was normal behaviour from them, an attitude you’d witnessed countless times and that had left you doing your best to kiss their asses, but he wasn’t used to people acting like that, and it, quite frankly, was quite appalling. he knew it wasn’t something he could change, though, and he admittedly also wondered why you hadn’t called dibs back then when the others all obviously had. while it shouldn’t be his concern at all he did worry a little - what if you thought he was ugly?
“who were your dibs on, though?” he couldn’t help his curiosity.
“no one. i think it’s stupid to call dibs on someone as if they didn’t have any say in the matter.”
“it is, yeah.” he refused to think about why this answer relieved him - it was just because you were a decent person respecting people’s emotions and definitely not because your lack of dibs wasn’t because you thought he was ugly, definitely. or maybe the guys were justified in changing his contact name to ‘simp’. just maybe.
after that little serious conversation you continued studying until it was getting dark, at which point you decided to call it a day. he was the first to buy his train ticket, but when he turned to you with a grin he was unsuccessfully trying to suppress on his face you knew he’d gotten you your ticket instead.
“i accidentally clicked on your station because that’s where we went all week”, he told you, but it was obvious that it had not at all been an accident.
“you’re the worst”, you sighed out, but you were secretly glad that he’d done this because you’d just have walked otherwise, something you hadn’t exactly been looking forward to doing in the dark. you watched as mingi got his own ticket - the right one this time -, then you hugged goodbye before each getting in the train to go home.
it had become a habit that he’d text you as soon as he was home, because if he hadn’t messaged you an hour after leaving you’d text him, worried, asking if he was okay and if he got home safe. then you’d text some more, about anything that was on your minds, before sending a final goodnight text. the same happened today, as well, with mingi being the first to go to bed since you had some coursework to do still.
[mingi]: ill be there tmrw at 10. 11?
[mingi]: goodnight
and before you could protest he’d gone offline, a sign that he wasn’t going to see any possible protests before the next morning, at which point it’d be too late to save him the pain of getting up early anyway.
[y/n]: both are fine, sleep well
//
he was there at 11, naturally, but you were glad about the extra hour because that meant you were able to finish an essay due monday at noon and still had enough time to prepare a bag with things you’d need for the pyjama party.
“come in”, you greeted the redhead as soon as you’d opened the door for him, “i still need to choose a pyjama.”
“choose? why not just… bring the pyjama you wear?”
“because i don’t want to embarrass myself!” for some reason you felt like your choice of pyjama was incredibly important, like you’d embarrass yourself if you didn’t wear the perfect one.
“don’t be silly. it’s just a pyjama”, he laughed at your dilemma, and you scoffed at him.
“unlike you i can’t just run around shirtless and call it a day”, and because you were still on the quest for the perfect pyjama you missed the embarrassed expression on his face.
“it’s not like i had a lot of options!”, he defended himself, “your shirts definitely wouldn’t have done. unless you’re into the crop top kind of look, i guess.”
“that would definitely be interesting”, you laughed, then pulled out some clothes as you finally seemed to have decided on what to wear.
“we can go now. should we get snacks on the way?”
“pretty sure seonghwa and hongjoong have already organised an entire buffet”, he let you know, and you nodded while grabbing your bag, making your way to the door with mingi following suit.
and he’d been right - the table was covered in all kinds of food when you arrived at their place, though a quick look told you that you most likely wouldn’t touch about half of them.
“i probably should’ve mentioned i’m a vegetarian”, you said slightly embarrassed when yunho, who’d been the first to greet you and the other giant, told you that you absolutely had to try seonghwa’s kimchi.
“oh! i’m sorry.” the man with the infamous kimchi was now in the living room as well, obviously feeling somewhat bad about the fact that so much of the prepared food included meat.
“it’s fine! i know it’s not like, common, so i know how to work around it”, you tried to reassure, and the other seemed to accept that as an answer, telling you that if you needed any more food they’d gladly get it for you.
“why are all of you so nice?”,  your reply a whine, but the boys just laughed. maybe you would’ve been a little embarrassed about how kind everyone was being, but wooyoung interrupted by entering the living room with a loud “is it fun time?”, to which jongho quickly yelled back: “no!”
that was not an answer the boy would accept, though, and it very soon became fun time as you played all kinds of games that they were much better at than you since you’d never or barely ever played them before.
“it’s time for a challenge!”, yeosang declared, and though you tried protesting (because you knew you’d lose) you were outvoted on the grounds of democracy, so you just had to accept your fate.
“what happens to the loser?” you really wanted to know what would inevitably await you, but the only information you got was that the male had a surprise penalty in his room that he’d organised when the others were busy, so they didn’t know either. that only made it fun, he claimed, but you were certain that he was the only one who was going to have fun with this.
the challenge was a game you’d played before, and for a moment you hoped, begged the heavens that you might actually win, but of course life wasn’t that kind. everyone cheered when you were the first to lose, and when yeosang went to get the penalty you were inclined to stop him with all the power you held in you. before you could make a move he was already back, though, a terrifyingly familiar bag in his hands.
“please tell me that’s not what i think it is.”
the grin on his face destroyed all your hope, however, and you knew you would regret ever agreeing to this pyjama party after latest two seconds of having it in your mouth. you were impossibly bad at eating spicy food, and of course the penalty was one of the spiciest things you’d ever tried in an act of youthful recklessness at age sixteen. ever since then, you’d plain refused to touch anything that brand produced, but it seemed like now your fate was in the hands of whatever higher power controlled your tastebuds.
“you’re going to kill me”, you let him know before reluctantly taking the bag he held out for you. you pretended you weren’t able to open it, hoping to that way get out of having to eat it, but jongho volunteered to assist in opening it way too eagerly. there was no escaping, and you took one of the snacks, smelling it, examining it, turning it to look at it from every angle, trying to buy yourself more time and maybe get the boys to have mercy with you. and just as you were about to put the horror machine in your mouth mingi grabbed your hand, guiding it to his own instead and eating the snack you’d so dreaded to eat. it was apparent by his reaction that he didn’t necessarily enjoy this, either, but he’d done it anyways, and once the source of his suffering was swallowed he informed your friends that he’d taken your penalty and that you’d not have to eat it anymore. they had to accept it since they hadn’t previously agreed that others taking the loser’s penalty wasn’t allowed, and the redhead gave you a slightly pained but still somewhat proud smile.
and now there was no denying it anymore, song min gi was a simp for you and you only.
15 notes · View notes
bcbdrums · 4 years
Text
Talk To Me
A/N: When you can't sleep at 3:00 AM you write fanfic. Hope it's coherent. Drakgo of course!
FFn link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13632340/1/Talk-To-Me
------------------------
The noises coming from the lab had Shego rolling her eyes before the door even opened. The way Drakken was carrying on, it either meant he had discovered a fatal flaw in an idea he had been working on, or else he simply couldn't think of anything and was throwing a tantrum.
Sure enough, when the lab door slid open Shego was met with the scene of at least a dozen crumpled papers littering the floor beneath Drakken's workstation, and the man himself pacing the length of the lab with a furious and frustrated expression as he muttered to himself.
Shego found herself smirking rather than groaning as she had begun to find some of his behaviors endearing as of late. She crossed the room silently, the blue man oblivious to her presence, and she picked up one of the crumpled papers and unfolded it. She was curious as to what was so important this time.
As she glanced down at the paper where a list had been scrawled with each item then crudely crossed out, her brow furrowed.
'Dinner.' 'Movie.' 'Musical theater.' 'Roller-skating.' 'Ice-skating.' 'Walk in the park.'
Each item on the list seemed to be plans for going out, as if he'd been making plans for his weeknights rather than world take-over. Shego picked up another paper and unfolded it.
'Trip to the zoo.' 'Safari.' 'Sky-diving.' 'Blimp ride.'
Like the previous paper, each item was crossed out. This paper had a massive 'NO!' written on it beneath the other items, so harshly that the pencil had almost gone through the paper.
Shego dropped the two papers in favor of leaning over the one still sitting on Drakken's work-station. It had a single item with two question marks at the end and has also been crossed out viciously.
'Romantic night in?'
It dawned on Shego all at once that the papers weren't lists for evil plots nor for Drakken's weekly schedule. The lists were all date ideas.
"Hey Dr. D.?"
"Nyahh!"
Drakken had jumped with a loud shout and was clutching his chest as he stared at her in a mixture of annoyance and anxiety.
"Shego!" he gasped as he saw the papers in her hand. "What do you want? Don't...don't bother with those!"
Shego leaned against the desk and waved the two papers she held. "I came to see what plan had you so worked up this time. But I guess you've been working on something else."
"Don't look at those, those are all...those are all failed ideas."
Shego glanced back at one of the lists. "They look like date ideas to me... 'Dinner'? Why is that a failed idea?"
Drakken hesitated, glancing away briefly before bringing his hands together in front of him and tugging anxiously at the fingers of his gloves.
"We've been out to dinner twice already," he said.
"'Movie?'"
"We've seen three movies together," Drakken said, taking a step closer.
Shego glanced back at the lists she held. "'Roller-skating? Sky-diving?' We haven't done most of these other things," she commented.
Drakken took another step closer. Shego saw his eyes dart to the paper on the table before his face fell. "Yes, but...but all those things, and...everything else I can think of are just... They're just..."
"What?"
"They're boring compared to the way you're used to living."
Shego considered his thought process and the items on the lists.
"I don't go sky-diving," she said.
"You do more thrilling things than that during our schemes," Drakken reasoned.
"I've never been on a safari."
Drakken shook his head as he snatched the paper off the table and stuff it into his coat pocket. "You'll...be put off by all the insects, and the atmosphere, and the tour group..."
Shego wanted to roll her eyes at his logic, but the distressed look on his face told her it would only add to his anxiety. He was trying to come up with a date that she would really enjoy. She couldn't really fault him for trying to consider her feelings. She wouldn't enjoy being in a tour group... And their plots usually did involve far more daring action than simple sky-diving. And while she'd not asked about some of the others, she could follow his logic: musical theater was a lot of sitting through what may end up to be a lousy show, and skating would also involve crowds and not much action.
"Well what's wrong with that one?" she asked, pointing to his pocket. "'Romantic night in'?"
Drakken blushed and looked at his hand in his pocket briefly. "It...it just falls apart like the rest of them. I'm sorry Shego, I know we haven't been out for over a week but...if you just give me some time I'm sure I can think of—"
"Why does it fall apart?"
"...What?"
"The romantic night in. Why wouldn't it work? What was your idea?"
Drakken swallowed nervously. "I... I thought I might cook a nice dinner, and dessert... Maybe...eat on the balcony. Some candle-light..."
Shego nodded with a small, thoughtful smirk. "That's a good start. Then what?"
Drakken glanced away as his face flushed again. "After dinner, we could...sit by the fire and have a small drink of your choosing?"
Shego's smirk grew as she envisioned cuddling up next to him with his arm around her as they had something rather more than a 'small drink' as he'd put it. That was an idea she could definitely get behind, especially considering how much closer it would bring them. The boldest move Drakken had made with her save their first kiss—which she had initiated—was to hold her hand once in the last few minutes of a movie they had seen. And judging by the nervous sweat to his palm, it had taken him the entire movie to work up the courage to do so.
"I like that—"
"But it just falls apart like the others," he said, tossing his hands up weakly as his shoulders hunched and he turned away, his expression growing more anxious.
Shego frowned. "Why does it fall apart?"
Drakken had crossed to the other side of the lab again. His shoulders hunched further at her words.
"N-never-mind, just...I'll think of something. Something for this weekend, I promise!"
Shego slowly approached him. "But a romantic night in sounds...well, really great. Why can't we do that?"
Drakken turned to watch her over his shoulder. She could see his mind was racing, debating himself over whatever was the problem in his mind. She knew the best way to persuade him would just be to look pleased with the idea, and that was easy to do since she was.
After several seconds Drakken swallowed and slowly nodded, the anxiety in his eyes only growing.
"All right. Romantic night in it is," he said, his voice shaking a bit.
Shego watched as his frame remained tense when he passed her and began scooping up all the crumpled papers and dumping them into the wastebasket. Her smile faded. Even though she was happy, he still wasn't?
"Doc... Come on, what gives? I said I like the idea."
He looked at her again and she saw as this time he truly assessed her instead of just spinning the wheels in his head. The anxiety in his eyes faded slightly.
---------------------
The relief seemed to have been temporary, Shego realized on Saturday night. The dinner Drakken had cooked had been delicious, and for dessert he had prepared a cheese and fruit platter to go with the glasses of wine they were having as they adjourned to the den. She had known he was still worried about something by the kink he'd had in his brow all evening, but it became much more apparent when she had sat in his lap in his great chair rather than sitting in her own.
The flush to his face was calming down, but the anxiety in his eyes continued to rise. He had moderated it by explaining in detail about the cheeses he had selected. Shego was glad to see the complicated and lengthy talk calming him until he abruptly stopped halfway through describing the last cheese, bit his lip, and finished with a simple 'it pairs with figs.'
Shego frowned at him as he carefully prepared a bite of the first cheese—a creamy brie—on a cracker with a slice of apple for her. She set her wine glass on the end table next to the cheese platter as she studied him. The evening had been very nice—flawless, in fact—so far. What on earth could be wrong?
When the decadent bite had been prepared, Drakken turned to offer it to her. He seemed to realize then just how close she was, sitting in his lap. Shego began to lift her hand to receive the offered morsel, when another idea occurred to her. She parted her lips instead and gave him a playful look. Drakken blinked and drew back in surprise, but then with a renewed flush to his face he placed the bite into her mouth, his thumb and finger brushing against her lip.
Shego briefly forgot the awkwardness he seemed determined to bring to their date night as she enjoyed the expensive treat.
"It's delicious!" she declared a moment later, opening her eyes. She hadn't even realized she'd closed them.
Drakken smiled and ate his own bite of the same cheese and fruit combo, and Shego lifted her wine glass to take a drink. She watched Drakken prepare a second taste of a different combination as he slowly chewed his bite, and she thought again of how perfect the evening had been. He hadn't even protested her sitting in his lap, though he definitely hadn't expected it.
Maybe after their savory dessert and a bit more wine she could tempt him into a second kiss. And a third. And a fourth...
No sooner had she swallowed the wine than the next bite was offered to her, and again she parted her lips for him to feed it to her. She gave him a slightly less playful look that time and brought a touch of seduction to her eyes. By the rapid way he glanced away, she knew he had read her correctly.
They made their way through the cheese platter in a near-identical pattern, with him feeding her bites and then taking his own. She occasionally sipped her wine in between or commented on the cheese. He appeared a bit more relaxed, as he had with dinner, but the small kink in his brow remained. She couldn't do any better in reading what might be bothering him since he wasn't saying much, and then she realized...he had hardly spoken all evening.
Except to explain what they were eating and drinking at each stage of the meal, he had barely attempted any conversation. The most he had actually said was when he had started to explain about each cheese and the processes by which they were made and why they paired with certain fruits—an explanation which he had abruptly halted for no reason.
They finished their final morsel of cheese, and Drakken's expression was growing more concerned. Shego watched him lift his wine glass, start to sip from it, and then stop suddenly and set it down. He had barely had a quarter of the glass, while Shego was nearly finished with hers.
"Hey...Dr. D.?" she began, starting to worry for the first time herself.
He looked up nervously. "Yes?"
"Are you having a good time?"
His face cleared slightly and a shy smile appeared as he nodded. Then he startled suddenly as the anxiety returned.
"Are you? Having a good time?" he echoed.
"Yes..." she said as she nodded. The evening was perfect... Except that it wasn't. "So...what's bothering you then?"
Drakken reached for his wine glass and began taking a large swallow, but then seeming to realize what he was doing looked panicked and set the glass down again. He took a slow breath and then gave her a thin smile.
"Nothing," he said.
Shego studied his guarded expression as her mind began going through everything. He had worked himself into a nervous wreck trying to come up with a really nice date... And she understood, after their two dinners out, their three movies, and their one night dancing. Drakken never did anything halfway; a nicer date was probably overdue in his mind. And he had succeeded. Except he didn't seem convinced of it.
"This was a really great idea. I'll bet there's a lot more in those papers in the wastebasket," she said.
She watched as the wheels slowly turned in Drakken's head. "You could...look through them and see if there's an idea you like. For...next weekend?"
Shego grinned and nodded. "I'm sure I'll find a lot."
Drakken smiled, though the kink in his brow remained. "All right."
Shego was startled suddenly as Drakken made to stand up. She slid off his lap, watching him in confusion as he stood before her.
"G-good night, Shego," he said with a shy smile. He turned and began cleaning up their wine glasses and the cheese tray. Her jaw fell open as she watched him. He... He hadn't even put his arms around her. He picked up the tray and started out of the room. She scowled.
"Drakken!"
He jumped in surprise and turned at her sudden anger, panic on his face.
"What did I say? I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he blurted out.
Whatever she had been about to yell at him died on her lips as she processed his words. Had he...been worrying the whole night about saying something to mess up their date? Was that why he had called it to an abrupt end, because there was nothing left to eat and he'd be forced to talk? But he always talked to her… He never stopped talking... He frequently annoyed her with his—
The second connection was made. Her mouth formed the shape of an 'O' as she took in his desperate and frantic expression. She turned and slowly sank down into the chair. She heard Drakken scurry out of the room behind her.
---------------------
About thirty minutes later Shego had worked past her frustration with the poor genius she had become attracted to. And part of the problem was in fact his thinking. He overanalyzed and overthought every situation, to the point that he'd apparently convinced himself that she didn't want to talk to him. He was probably questioning her interest in him at all. It was a wonder he'd been bold enough to ask her on one date, let alone seven of them.
The fire was dying down, and Drakken hadn't returned. He was probably overanalyzing that evening too and trying to figure out his mistake. Shego sighed and left the den to find him. It was high time he figured out that she wouldn't keep saying yes to his date invitations if she didn't want to go out with him.
The sound of running water led her to the kitchen where she found Drakken hunched over the sink, muttering and angrily scrubbing dishes. He had made quick headway and only had their cheese tray and wine glasses left to clean. Shego watched as he hastily put away the remaining cheeses and crackers, and then poured out his nearly full glass of wine into the sink. She couldn't make out his words, but by the tone of his voice they were probably all self-deprecating.
She stepped up to the counter and leaned back against it.
"So what are you waiting for?" she asked.
Drakken jumped, sending soap suds up out of the sink and onto the counter, on his face, and a particularly large cluster of bubbles into his hair. Shego smirked at the sight, despite the look of fear in his eyes.
Drakken grabbed the dish towel and wiped the soap off his face in frustration before his expression turned anxious again. "Oh, Shego... I thought...you would have gone to bed."
"It's not even ten. Drakken, what are you waiting for?"
He turned back to washing the wine glasses. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." She turned and leaned over the counter to stare at him. "We've been on seven dates now. What's next?"
Drakken looked genuinely confused when he glanced at her. "What do you mean?" he repeated.
"I mean... We already eat dinner, and watch movies. Dancing was new, and tonight was...different. But not much has changed with us 'dating.' What's the point?"
"Oh..." His face fell.
Shego waited for an answer, but he turned back to the dishes, his brow more twisted than ever. As he washed the wine glasses she frowned and stepped around the counter up to his side. When she moved right up next to him he turned from the dishes again. Shego reached around him and turned off the faucet.
"Stop avoiding this. What's the point?"
Drakken met her eyes, but rather than having formulated an answer he looked sad.
"I'm sorry, Shego. You're right. I won't... That is, we can just go back to the way things were. Forget we ever dated."
"Forget we...?" Shego snarled and grabbed his shirtfront so he would look at her. And look at her he did, as his eyes widened in fright and he raised one hand in front of his face while his other grabbed her wrist. "Drakken! I want to know what you think the point of this is, if we're not changing anything. Why did you even ask me out if you didn't want anything to change?"
Drakken looked confused but still seemed too frightened to respond. Shego let go of him and scowled, taking a step back to lean against the counter and cross her arms.
It would be typical...just typical of him to not really be interested in her, and be 'dating' for some reason that only made sense inside his head. And just when she had really started to be excited about where things between them might lead...
"I thought..."
Shego's eyes snapped up as he began speaking, and she gave him a calculating stare.
"I thought that if I...that is...you wouldn't want things to...um... Shego? Why...did you say yes to a date with me anyway? And all the others?"
Shego stared at him as her frown deepened. "Is that seriously a question? Because I wanted to date you, dingus! But not if it just means...doing the same things we always do with a new label slapped on."
Drakken hung his head. "That's why I was trying to come up with better ideas for—"
"I don't just mean what we do, I mean us! I thought dating meant a change with us."
Drakken looked nervous again. "You mean...ah..."
Shego felt an anxious fluttering in her chest, but she ignored it as she pushed off the counter and wordlessly put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was startled at first, but within a few seconds he was kissing her back. And after a few more his hands rested tentatively on her waist.
The kiss was a release of far too much tension, and it was with great reluctance that Shego pulled away for air. Her eyes met Drakken's, and she was unsurprised to find him looking at her cautiously. But his hands hadn't left her waist.
"That's what I mean," she said conclusively.
Drakken took a slow, shaky breath and released it just as slowly. The cautious look hadn't left his eyes. "I thought...you... That is, I thought it would...take a lot more time before you could ever be interested in me...like that."
"What?" Shego's eyes narrowed. "I'm dating you because I'm attracted to you. You don't have to... Why would you think I'm not...? I sat in your lap, for crying out loud."
Drakken glanced away in what was a too-familiar, nervous fashion. Shego growled and leaned forward to kiss him again, this time holding nothing back. She heard his shocked intake of breath through his nostrils before he melted into her touch, his hands moving to gently encircle her waist as his lips responded to hers.
The kiss ended far too soon for her taste, but she understood that it was probably a bit much for a guy who was apparently content to wait a long time before engaging in any physical intimacies. She stepped back enough to put her hands on his shoulders. His hands stayed on her waist.
Drakken was looking at her in a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "So you...you're dating me because you...actually like me?"
Shego rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dr. D. That's the only reason I'd date you. So..." she reached up and brushed the remaining soap bubbles from his hair, "how about you stop with this weird pity-party and we go sit in front of the fire?"
Drakken immediately turned to the sink. "It will only take me a minute to get the cheese board ready again."
Shego sighed and stopped him by setting her fingers on his jaw, gently turning his head back toward her. "Leave that. Let's just...talk."
"Talk?" Drakken's face fell. Shego remembered what he had said when running out of the den earlier. But there wasn't anything she could really do about that.
"Yes. Talk. That's what dating couples do, so they can get to know each other better."
The fear and dismay in Drakken's eyes both saddened and annoyed her. But she couldn't blame him. How often over the years had she told him how much she hated listening to him talk? And who was to say he wouldn't annoy her some more? They wouldn't know until they actually...talked.
She blew the soap bubbles off of her fingers, the few that remained floating through the air for a second before they evaporated. She grabbed his hand and tugged on it.
"Think of it like taking over the world, Doc..." she said as she pulled him out of the room. "It's a risk, and there's always a chance of failure, but then you just...pick yourself up and try again."
"But what if—" He stopped short, and she paused to look at him, her eyes willing him to go on. He swallowed nervously. "What if...there is no second chance?" he said quietly, his eyes pools of worry.
She turned and pulled him toward the den again as she grew thoughtful. Part of her was thrilled that she apparently meant so much to him. And she also understood even more why he was so concerned. She did have a tendency to put hard stops on things she didn't agree with...
"I guess...relationships are a bigger risk than world domination," she said after a moment.
He was silent the rest of the way to the den, and once there she guided him back to his chair before she stoked the fire. He protested briefly, but she waved him off. She intended them to be there long past bedtime.
When she sat in his lap again he blushed and became stiff and nervous. She set one hand on his shoulder and studied him. If he really was that interested in her, then he couldn't possibly be unhappy with her choice to sit with him.
"What do you want to do right now?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, the anxiety rising in his eyes.
"Tell me," she said evenly. "What do you want to do right now?"
Drakken took a deep breath. "P-put my arms around you?"
She nodded at him. "Then what are you waiting for?"
There was a great sense of relief when he was finally holding her, one hand firmly on her shoulder and his other gently feeling the flesh at her waist. She leaned in closer to him and tried to give him the most unguarded look she could, though she knew she couldn't completely get rid of her smirk.
"All right Dr. Drakken," she said, smiling into his eyes, "talk to me."
30 notes · View notes
Text
we never painted by the numbers
chapter one of the peter losing wendy series
*inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore*
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Character (Liz Walker)
Warnings: alcohol, partying, plot does not follow the canon
Word Count: 2.6K
Summary: At the Labor Day party in the Boneyard, Liz and JJ have trouble avoiding each other. 
September 2, 2019
Though the sand was cool beneath her feet, Liz felt her cheeks burning red. Her heart beat anxiously against her ribs. Chewing on her bottom lip, she descended the slope down to the shore, where she would find the keg. Where she would find JJ. She kept telling herself there was no reason to be nervous, that it would be the same as it always had been. But as soon as she spotted him, her stomach sank and she had to avert her eyes. His face was lit dimly beneath the half moon, and she could tell he was smiling even from across the crowd of sweaty teenagers. Swallowing down the sick nerves creeping up her throat, she meandered through the masses and finally arrived at the center of the party. The other pogues, along with Sarah Cameron, stood around the keg like politicians schmoozing voters. Ask, and the people shall receive shitty keg beer. Liz wanted to grimace at herself for thinking such bitter thoughts, but she plastered on a weak smile instead.
Kie noticed her before she even had to say anything, pulling her into a drunken side hug and squealing some joyous exclamation. Liz couldn’t quite understand her through all the slurring, but she knew the gist of the words tumbling from Kie’s mouth. It had been too long, even though they saw each other at work it just wasn’t the same, and the like. No matter how much she wanted to, Liz knew she couldn’t just disappear. She couldn’t suddenly stop showing up on the HMS Pogue for Sunday fishing trips or not make an appearance at a party. Especially not the Labor Day blowout to celebrate the beginning of senior year.
Rather, she chose to fade away. Show her face less and less until, hopefully, they forgot she ever existed. It wasn’t an airtight plan, but it was the best she could come up with. She promised Kie they would dance together later, after Liz was able to down a few drinks. A chorus of cheers followed, the rest of the group elated to see the friend who had been working an inexplicable number of shifts the past few weeks. And, for just a moment, Liz felt secure in the spot where she stood. Kie had her arm around Liz’s shoulders, babbling on to Sarah about some memory from the Kook Academy Liz wasn’t present for.
On a normal night, it would have bothered Liz. Before Sarah Cameron had shown up and John B started macking on her, Kie had been Liz’s confidant. The only other girl to relate to in the face of three clueless boys. But Liz didn’t share a childhood with Kie the way Sarah did. Liz knew she hadn’t exactly been replaced, but she was also smart enough to know it would never be the same. She would never again be the one Kie immediately thought to call when she considered cutting her hair or getting another spontaneous dolphin tattoo. It was Liz who had, in fact, replaced Sarah. And why would Kie need the replacement when the original was back in the picture?
Despite the old, familiar hurt bubbling up in her chest, though, Liz just couldn’t bring herself to care when Kie and Sarah twirled away to go dance near the portable speaker. There were bigger fish to fry. Harder pills to swallow as she took a tentative step towards the keg, and the three boys, to ask for a drink. She wasn’t lost on the way JJ had been avoiding her gaze and hadn’t said a word upon his noticing her arrival. Liz was pretty sure it wasn’t lost on Pope either, even if she and JJ were both doing their best to act as usual for the sake of their friends. At least Liz didn’t have to worry about John B noticing anything was wrong. He was oblivious, as always.
“Hey, Liz, where have you been?” John B asked with a wide smile, pouring her a red solo cup of watery beer before she could actually even ask for one.
Liz shrugged and tucked some stray hairs, flying loose in the ocean breeze, behind her ear. “Here and there. And I mean...nowhere, really.”
John B furrowed his brows and chuckled at her cryptic tone. “Okay, James Bond. Don’t tell me then.”
“Just work and stuff,” she continued, noncommittal, as she accepted the drink from his outstretched hand. “Mommy dearest hasn’t been in the best mood lately, either. Lots of fires to put out on the home front.”
“Ouch,” John B said, commisterating. “Well, are you staying on the pullout tonight? I think there’s a free spot. Pope’s staying at Kie’s, so…”
“Oh, I don’t know. It just um...depends. I’ll let you know later,” she said, looking down into her drink and taking a big gulp.
She wasn’t a drinker most nights, but she felt as though she might need a little bit more than she was used to. Still, the PBR burned warmly in her gut as it went down. She could almost hear JJ teasing her about being a lightweight. And she almost waited to actually hear him say it, but she knew he wouldn’t. She locked eyes with him for just a moment, but then a Touron girl came up for a drink, and Liz didn’t have his attention anymore.
Ready to service a new customer, John B brushed off Liz’s uncertainty and gave her a half-nod, along with some sort of affirmative grunt. Only Pope kept his inquisitive gaze on Liz. By the time he approached her carefully, she had taken a few steps back from the keg and begun to space out, watching the reverie. Some heavy rap song played, the majority of the people in attendance dancing their hearts out in the sand. But Liz stayed close to the shoreline, the water licking at the backs of her heels. She’d discarded her shoes the moment she jumped off her bike, leaving them in the small basket. Part of her worried about them getting stolen, but then she knew nobody would. They knew what her bike looked like, they knew who she was friends with. The Kooks did, at least. And it was far more likely she would steal from a Touron before a Touron ever stole from her. She was debating whether to go and sit by the bonfire, up near the dunes, when Pope came to stand beside her.
“Hey, so...what’s up with you?” he began hesitantly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, not meeting his eyes and taking another long sip. The beer was already almost gone.
Pope pursed his lips, then turned to face her fully and took on the stern tone of voice which always made Liz want to roll her eyes. “Did you and JJ have a fight or something? It seems like there’s some weird shit going on between the two of you. And you haven’t been around for weeks. Kie was worried sick last weekend when you skipped out on free crab legs.”
“I had stuff going on, Pope,” Liz replied easily.
“Can’t you just stop bullshitting me for one second?” Pope asked, eyebrows raised in frustration.
Licking her lips, Liz took a deep breath to compose herself and finally looked directly at Pope. “I had to work. My mom’s a fucking mess. I was exhausted, alright?”
“But it’s not just that,” Pope continued. He was approaching it almost as though it were a question of logic. As though he could solve everything if he only knew where the mistake in the problem was. “You and JJ are best friends, Liz. But you guys can’t even look at each other. What the hell happened?”
Nerves began to jitter right beneath Liz’s skin, making her itch. “Nothing happened, okay? Maybe I just need some time...for myself.”
Pope scoffed. Even on her worst day, the most Liz would do was hide out in the spare bedroom at the Chateau to take a breather. Never before had she willingly chose to stay at her own house instead of John B’s. Especially not since John B had finally become an emancipated minor the year before, and they no longer had to worry about Child Protective Services randomly showing up. Liz had always been so worried they would recognize her, and they would again start asking the questions they had asked just after her father died.
“Time for yourself?” Pope repeated, unconvinced.
She nodded. “Yeah. I went to the movies by myself on Sunday for the matinee. It was pretty great. They were doing an anniversary screening of Donnie Darko. Like any of you guys would’ve been into that. So there’s just one of many examples.”
For a moment, Pope had to agree. “That movie does make a mockery of time travel.”
“Exactly,” Liz exclaimed sardonically. She had watched the movie with Pope once. She remembered just how dissimilar their reviews of it had been.
“But you and I both know JJ would’ve loved that shit,” Pope said.
Jaw tightening, Liz let out a small, humorless laugh and turned back to the crowd. “No way. That movie doesn’t have a happy ending. JJ only wants a happy ending.”
Before Pope could muster up an argument (she was right, after all; JJ couldn’t stand a less-than-happy ending unless they were watching some ridiculous low-budget creature feature), Liz left to go receive a refill. Shaking his head, Pope decided to let the problem lie for the time being. He wanted to go find Kie. He fancied himself a good boyfriend, and figured she would need her hair held back sooner or later.
.   .   .
Buzzed but not drunk, Liz laughed loudly at something the Touron boy across from her had said. He was short and stocky brunette, with straight white teeth and a bland face. But he was nice enough, and he didn’t seem to care that she was a couple inches taller than him. Besides, they couldn’t tell the difference when sitting on a log next to the bonfire. She was three drinks in, and finally the nagging voice was exiting her mind. Her heart was quieting to a steady beat, and she felt warm and calm instead of shaky. Her bare knee touched the Touron boy’s leg, and she smiled at the contact, though she thought vaguely that she couldn’t remember his name.
It was a party though. It’s what the Pogues were always telling her before. She could let loose at a party, if she wanted. She could do without thinking, if she wanted. The uncertainty didn’t go entirely out the window, however, until she spotted JJ from across the fire again. He was dancing, like usual. With some tanned, blonde Touron girl. Her lips were bubblegum pink and she giggled girlishly. Liz knew she could never make herself giggle like that. Not at all. It wasn’t in her DNA. The warmth of the bonfire made her feel reckless, almost, as she saw the dimple appear on JJ’s cheek. He laughed at whatever the girl had whispered in his ear.
She saw flashes of him everywhere, even in places he wasn’t. Without as much access to Twinkie, she had been relegated to the bus as of late. There was only so far her bike could take her. The day had been hot and muggy, and she had opted to take the bus to the bank instead of biking over. She preferred not to be a sweaty, melting mess when she sat down and discussed her savings. The savings her mother didn’t seem to know about. Her nose had been buried in a worn copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. She’d been sitting on the searing metal bench waiting for the bus to arrive, when she glanced up and her gaze immediately landed on a shaggy blonde head of hair. For just a moment, her heart had done a twist. It looked so much like JJ. Until whoever it was turned around on their skateboard, and Liz had found some random Touron instead of her best friend.
At the time, she shrugged it off and kept up her alternating pattern of reading and obsessing over everything that could go wrong with her savings account. Later, though, when she’d been lying in bed with only the sound of cicadas to distract her, the vivid moment had come back to the forefront of her mind. There was something so visceral about the feeling she’d had. When she thought it was him. It left her wondering if she’d always felt so much for JJ, or if it was only because of what had happened this summer. She didn’t know. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember a time when just the sound of his name or the sight of his smile didn’t have her insides erupting with the flutter of butterflies.
The lucid shock hit her again when she saw him dancing. A skip in the beating of her heart and a wave of involuntary shivers rolling over her. But instead of being confused, this time it only made her angry. She could think of no other way to stop her feelings for him. Try as she might, she couldn’t erase them. A dull, throbbing irritation settled inside her when the intense moment of realization passed. She noticed how the Touron boy still droned on next to her, unaware of the deep waters of thought in which she swam. She felt bad for not being able to remember his name. He’d just told her so quickly, before he’d launched into some diatribe about his hockey team. Something with an A. Aaron? Adam? Alex? It was no use, she decided. She only tried her best to listen, blinking harshly to clear her eyes of their pensive glaze. The Touron boy eventually saw her change in demeanor. His words became filled with awkwards gaps of silence as he lost his train of thought, and his mouth slowly turned up at the corners in a small, almost endearing, grin.
“Would you wanna make out?” he asked.
She was taken slightly aback by the question. Of all the Pogues, she was the only one who had never hooked up with a Touron at or after a party. Pope had once stood alongside her in the lonely camp, until he’d gotten hot and heavy with some girl, just a few weeks before finally admitting his true feelings for Kie. Liz was just glad the secret was finally out between the two of them.
Biting at her lips again, she let her mind swirl with thoughts, with possibilities. He was attractive, sure. Whatever his name was. And he certainly wasn’t looking for a commitment. He wasn’t always going to be there, at the end of her day and in the back of her mind, as JJ was. Again, moments with him played like a home video behind her eyes. Tossing pennies in the Williams’s wishing well on her tenth birthday and creating a pseudo-rosé to drink with the Pogues last New Year’s. Her heart beating heavy and high as she woke up from a dream about him, where he found such complete happiness without her. She could almost see it happening, the way he was dancing with the Touron girl. And Liz knew there was no way in hell she was sleeping at the Chateau. JJ was bound to take the pretty blonde home at the end of the night. And he would be just another step farther away from her. Everywhere in her world; and now, nowhere at all.
She nodded. “Yes.”
And she pulled the Touron boy in gently with one hand on his cheek before he could initiate anything himself. He tasted of hard liquor and disillusionment.
15 notes · View notes
pumpkins-s · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
*toots world’s littlest horn* Hi hello it’s me.
So I promised chapter 25 of Not As Simple out today, for Undertale’s 5th anniversary....and truth be told, I worked my ass off trying to make that happen. I have...not had much sleep lately haha... But at the end of the day I had to accept my physical limitations, and recognize that even for this special day, it isn’t worth putting out a subpar, shortened, chapter lacking in quality.
So...I’ve reluctantly tabled that. 
Instead, what I would like to offer you, is a glimpse at the next chapter--a rough version of its first two scenes (subject to revisions in the final chapter, obviously) sitting at 2.5k words--and my solemnest promise that, god willing, I will be releasing the chapter in full either this weekend or the next. Basically, as soon as I can without costing the writing quality.
So, without further ado, please enjoy this preview--
“Daddy, help me—”
The recorder stops. Rewinds. Plays again.
“Daddy, help me—”
And again.
“Daddy, help me—”
And again.
Sans sighs as he steps back into the lab room, making his was over to Gaster. With a deft maneuver, he wrestles the recorder out of his mentor’s hand, cutting off another plaintive, shrill “Help me.” He places the recorder on the far end of the table Gaster is sitting at, just out of his reach, and plops into the chair next to him. Gaster doesn’t reach for the recorder—no doubt understanding it’s a futile effort after the last time Sans had confiscated it and spent the next hour swatting Gaster’s hand away from it every time he reached for it—but his eyes follow it all the same. And stay there.
There’s something shell-shocked and empty about him, ever since he’d heard Remnant’s voice over the radio. Ever since he’d stumbled closer, demanding to know what the fuck he’d just heard, and played it back—then played it once more.
Then he’d sat down heavily, eyes wide, and had said quietly “…That was a child. Sans, that was a child,” like it was the most earth-shattering, devastating revelation he could picture. Sans hadn’t known what to say—hadn’t ever really stopped to think about it until then, because Remnant is Remnant, and Sans knows something about being both a child and not one—and Gaster had gone uncharacteristically, unimaginably quiet.
He still is. He wanders around as if he’s in a daze, startling whenever Sans touches him, and answering slowly, with long pauses, when spoken to.
And that recording—that last sentence, especially. It seems whenever Sans makes the mistake of leaving Gaster alone for more than a few minutes, he comes back to the other monster listening to it over, and over, and over.
Needless to say, he’s gotten used to prying the recorder out of Gaster’s hands in the days since their successful venture into void-studying, as he juggles sifting through the mountain of data the experiment had given them, and trying to cajole Gaster into helping him. It’s the only way they manage to get anything done.
“Gaster,” Sans says, patiently, and Gaster makes a vague, acknowledging Mhmm noise, eyes still on the recorder. Sans waves it vaguely—feeling rather like he does when he holds a treat in front of Toby, or a really engrossing volume of manga in front of Alphys—and feels mildly put out when Gaster’s eyes track the recorder, as expected. He bites back a sigh, and tries again, actively taking the recorder out of sight and putting it in his pocket. “Gaster.”
Gaster startles, and finally looks him in the eye. “Yes, Sans, what is it?”
“Well—” Gaster’s gaze slips lower, to the jacket pocket Sans is currently hiding the recorder in, and Sans groans. “Gaster!”
Gaster blinks. “What?”
Sans frowns, feeling the genuine concern creep in underneath the thin layer of annoyance at Gaster’s constant distraction. “What is up with you?” he says softly. “All you seem to do is listen to that recording.”
“I just—” A complicated look passes over Gaster’s face. “I just—” He makes a frustrated noise at his inability to put his feelings into words, and makes a complicated hand gesture Sans assumes is supposed to convey his meaning. “I just can’t get the thought out of my head. A child, trapped in that place. After everything I’ve heard you say about it—after everything I’ve seen it do to you…”
Gaster trails off again, expression filled with some kind of morbid, fascinated horror, and Sans feels a pang of sympathy. Much as he’s more used to Remnant’s… Remnant-ness than Gaster, and to the void, he won’t deny the recording was certainly disturbing—or that it hasn’t stolen sleep from him the last few days, plagued by shapeless nightmares and dreams filled with those screams.
It seems neither of them can get it out of their head. It’s just that Sans is, perhaps, a little bit better at compartmentalizing.
Or…perhaps it’s something else.
“…Is it a voice you recognize?” he asks slowly, turning over an old thought—a thing he’d wondered, about who Remnant might have been before, and about Gaster’s human, the smartest of them all.
“No,” Gaster says firmly, dismissing the idea without hesitation. Sans senses no lie. “No, it’s not a voice I recognize.”
Sans hesitates, confused. “Then…”
Gaster makes a face.
“It’s not a voice I recognize—and that’s why it scares me so much.”
                                                         xxx
Sans runs a series of commands into the computer in front of him, overlaying the various maps their tech had drawn up of the void, trying to form a concrete, comprehensive image.
The computer hesitantly, choppily, acquiesces to his request—and forms a few samples based off their compiled maps. Sans stares at it, and then squints really hard. He squints some more—and then a little more, just to be safe.
“…Huh,” he says slowly.
It’d taken them a difficult, well-overworked couple of weeks to slog through sorting the mountain of data their little void-studying quest had given them, and things were finally starting to fall into a manageable enough line to take a proper look at and study. Except…Except—
“That can’t be right,” Sans says, and Gaster perks up from across the room, practically shoving himself back from the table he was working at, and sending himself, in his desk chair, rocketing over to Sans.
“What? What is it?” he asks excitedly, and Sans points a confused finger at his computer screen. Gaster also pauses, and then also squints. He takes his glasses off, polishes them thoroughly, replaces them, and then squints again.
“I don’t…What?” Gaster says eloquently.
Sans blinks. “We’re—we’re looking at the same thing, right? You’re seeing what I’m seeing?”
“If you are referring to the completely…illogical map of the void your computer has drawn up—then yes, my boy, we are.”
“Something must have gone wrong here,” Sans mutters, and types quickly, calling up the individual scans of the void.  Dozens of images flood the screen, and Sans tries to look at each of them and figure out what has caused the error. Eyeballing this is a little difficult given they’d used so many different mapping tools and scanners—and when some were designed to study greater ranges than others—but when looking at all the maps together on one screen, for the first time, Sans notices something he’d not stopped to think about before.
“It’s not just incorrectly measured averages of the scans or something,” he continues slowly. “Look at the individuals. There’s—they’re all familiar pieces, they’re places we know.”
“It’s the Underground,” Gaster says, shaking his head. “That—that can’t be right. We took a scan of the Underground? How’d I fuck up that badly—how’d you not catch it? That’s what you’re best at. ”
“Hey,” Sans says, with no real heat in the word, but then frowns. Too distracted with his shifting thoughts, the images on the screen, to argue with Gaster. “Hold on. Just let me…” He runs a few more commands into the computer, pulls up his composites again. “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong.”
“How so?”
“Remnant told me the Void was the place between places.”
“Yes,” Gaster murmurs. “The connection between the Underground and the Barrier.”
Sans shakes his head. “No, no. That’s the problem. We’ve been thinking about it too literally.” He taps the screen. “This is the void.”
“Sans,” Gaster says patiently. “That’s the Underground.”
“No,” Sans says. “It’s the void.”
Gaster raises an eyebrow.
“We’ve been treating the void as this separate, physical other. Like a house—we’re in one room, and there’s another room between us and the door. That’s the void, right? Except that’s all wrong, Gaster the room is right here—under our feet, between our fingers, in our breath.”
The eyebrow climbs higher.
“Think of it like…a mirror,” Sans says, “When you look in a mirror, you see the room behind you, you see yourself—it’s the same, except it also isn’t, right?”
“Okay but…it is, that’s how mirrors works,” Gaster says patiently, and Sans groans, burying his face in his hands.
“Okay, but what if it wasn’t? What if there were things you could only see in the mirror? You can’t see them directly, but—but they were there the whole time.” Sans gestures in a hopeless way, not sure how else to explain himself. It all feels so clear, suddenly—and at the same time he feels so, so stupid for not understanding it sooner. “This entire time, with Remnant flittering in and out, I was assuming they were coming from somewhere else. I thought of the void as a discreet place—but I was completely misunderstanding what they meant. It’s the place between places, an echo.” He waves his hand around the room, between the two of them, “It’s here, it’s always been here, we just can’t see it. We can’t hear it.”
Gaster’s eyes widen.
“Imagine if…” Sans says slowly, “Imagine if you were standing in a room. You can see everything going on around you, you can hear it. But you can’t touch it, you can’t change it—not physically, at least. Not the way we think about. Imagine…” Sans swallows, and suddenly his heart feels heavy. “Imagine if you stood there, and screamed and screamed…and no one could see you. No one could hear you. You’re standing in a crowded room making as much noise as you can, and you’re there, you know you’re there, but you don’t exist. As far as the rest of the world is concerned…you don’t exist.”
He’s not even sure if he’s explaining anything useful anymore—drifting further and further from the point—but now all he can think of is Remnant, and all the tears they have cried and all the different ways they have died. Dead in form, dead in soul. Dead to the world. But still there.
They were nothing, they’d said to him, just something with too much power and not enough common sense to die.
Sans shivers.
“Christ…” Gaster mutters, face ashen. “So you’re saying that…child, that child is wandering the Underground, alone, completely alone, and no one can see them, except in the moments they find their way to you.”
Sans winces, thinks of roots beneath the earth, beneath the skin, and switches images on his computer. “Alone…might be the wrong word.”
Gaster squints at the screen, and frowns. “Which one is this?”
“It’s the readings of the magic surges in the void. The hotspots, the movements of power. It was going to be a way to find more shortcut spots, like the one in the labs that goes to the Core. See, that’s there.” Sans taps a small, dark spot on the map. “You can see it. There’s some kind of…concentration there, presumably that’s what’s opened the rift.”
“God,” Gaster hisses in a breath. “Look at the labs.”
On the map, within the loose, spiraling storm of energy in the vague shape of the Underground, swirling and moving in its currents, sits the bright star, the eye. Right where they sit, where they sleep, along the tunnels and basements where they and their family spend their days.
“Remnant,” Sans says softly.
“They’re here?”
Sans sighs. “They always have been.”
Gaster moves closer the monitor, snatches the mouse out of Sans’s hand and zooms in. “Now I’m still not completely sure we haven’t both lost it, but—and tell me if I am crazy—doesn’t it look like there’s a second, separate hotspot, right next to it?”
Sans frowns, leaning in. “…They did say they have a friend.”
“…Please tell me it’s not another child.”
“Shit, I don’t know Gaster,” Sans snaps, annoyance getting the better of him. It’s Gaster and the recording of Remnant all over again. “Why are you so convinced Remnant is a kid, anyways?”
Sans has never been able to make sense of Remnant, shies away from any kind of label for them, who or what they might be—have been, will become. They’re static, an empty hole—tiny and grief-stricken and not quite all there at the best of times. There’s the teeter-totter innocence, little feet on his own, but there’s the darkness, too, the precise and intelligent way they hold themself, speak.
Child, it feels too small, too easy. He knows what it’s like to have a young body, and an older mind. He knows what it’s like to exist outside of time. And Remnant, he suspects, has done it much longer than he.
“I just know,” Gaster murmurs. “I can hear it.”
“Gaster.”
“No adult screams for their father like that, Sans.”
“Time doesn’t work for them like it does for us,” Sans reminds him as gently as he knows how, because he doesn’t know how else to admit you’re right, but—but—but—“They’ve pretty much said as much. The void may echo the Underground, but how times moves for them…I’m not sure, I’m not sure it’s the same. And when they…tap in, when they parse that barrier and I can see them, it’s not…linear. They’re finding me from a different time, a different place. How can we be confident we’re not doing the same? What we heard could be years old, Gaster.”
It could be the future, he doesn’t say.
Gaster grumbles, but doesn’t argue any further.
“Anyways,” Sans says. “Remnant’s uh…friend? Not what I was talking about.” Slowly, he zooms out, and points upwards with a careful finger, and Gaster swears.
“I acknowledge it’s not very becoming of the Royal Scientist himself to keep asking his own assistant questions, but…Sans, if Remnant’s here, who is that?”
The second star beams bright, casting a wide, warping trail in its vortex. On the map, it stands in direct opposition to its twin—the one Sans is sure is Remnant, buried beneath the castle deep with all the rest of them and their ghosts—two centers of power staring out over the battlefield across the planes of the Underground.
The Royal Labs, and the Ruins.
Sans thinks of forces that have found him within the grip of the void, tangled him up in blood and vines. He thinks of roots, spreading deep, searching for a way out above the soil.
“Honestly,” he says. “I’d like to know that myself.”
12 notes · View notes
nostalgiabones · 5 years
Text
Alone, But Not Really // Single Dad!Ashton AU
Tumblr media
A/N: well! It’s about time we had some Ashton on my blog. This is really different for me! It’s the most angsty thing i’ve ever written so please let me know what you think. It’s over 6000 words which is ridiculous lmao.  Shoutout to @i-calumhood​ for being so supportive and helping me out with this! ❤️(Possible TW of death - but nothing in detail)
“Ashton? We have someone important for you to meet when we get to the buses.”
Cory’s voice broke Ashton from his thoughts, from where he was bouncing Adalyn in his arms, trying to keep her entertained with the multi-coloured rattle in her grasp. He had no idea what day or time it was, or even where they were. It was their first day back touring after over a year off, as well as being Ashton’s first time touring as a parent; more specifically, as a single parent.
The crew had been in two minds about how to handle the situation, ever since the tour was planned and announced. There was no way that Ashton would go on tour and leave her behind. Having just passed her first birthday, she was well and truly attached and reliant on Ashton, and he would not be that parent. He knew how it felt to have a parent leave, and he could never put his sweet baby girl through that. They knew he’d sooner turn down a tour than go without her, so there was never any doubt that Ada would be joining them.
Ashton was stubborn. They all knew that. 
He was reluctant to accept help when it came to his daughter. It had only been seven months since he’d been forced into becoming a single parent. He had been her sole parent for more than half of her life. He could do it; he could be her dad, and they didn’t need anyone else. But that was whilst they were at home, and he didn’t have the band to focus on; tour had always been a mental battle for them all, and adding a baby to the mix was bound to make it much more difficult.
That was where you came in; babysitting for families every weekend had become a side job to earn a little extra money, mostly spending a few hours on a Saturday night watching Disney movies, or playing hide and seek. It was never anything too intense. That was until you received a phone call from a member of 5 Seconds of Summer’s management, asking if you wanted to join their tour, to help out with Ashton’s daughter. 
It was a decision you hadn’t taken lightly. It would mean being away for a good chunk of the year, and babysitting a child you had never met, travelling around with a close knit crew that you had never been a part of. But, it would also give you the chance to travel around the world with an extremely talented band, and get to know them as well as Ada. You’d always wanted to explore the world, and this was a perfect opportunity to do so. 
“Someone important? What do you mean?” Ashton questioned, making sure he had a good grip on Ada as the band started to move through the airport, to head to the tour buses. He didn’t know why this person would only be important to him. The crew were reluctant to make him aware of the situation. They knew he felt as though he didn’t need the help, and he didn’t want it. They thought otherwise; they had no doubts about his abilities as a father, but they just wanted what was best for him. 
“You’ll see. Just please, have an open mind.” 
Ashton was too tired and jet lagged to try and work out who was waiting for him on the bus. All he wanted to do was pass out in his bunk with Ada, so they could both catch up on some well needed sleep. They had a few days to rehearse and such before the first show, which he was grateful for. 
You had flown out at a little earlier than them, already moving some of your things onto the bus, and trying to get settled in. The situation had been explained to you; they’d warned you that it might take Ashton a while to warm up to you, and accept your help. But you understood that leaving a baby in the care of someone he didn’t know would be worrying, especially when the two of them were so used to it being just them.
Hanging around the car park with a few other members of the crew, you spotted the band finally making their way towards the bus. Your heart melted at the sleepy baby girl settled in Ashton’s arms, her messy dark blonde curls a contrast to her dad’s jet black hair. They had matching slightly grumpy expressions, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted, clearly ready for some sleep.
“There you are! We have some people we’d like you to meet.” Cory greeted you, and you were happy to see a familiar face. You’d met and spoken to him before, and you felt a little less nervous now that he was there to introduce you. “This is Ashton, and Ada.” 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ashton. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You held your hand out for him to shake, which he did, the confused expression not leaving his face. 
“Can someone explain what’s going on?” He asked, the situation still not becoming any clearer to him. He didn’t want to be rude. But he had just gotten off of a long haul flight, and he didn’t see why this conversation was so important. 
“She’s here to help out with Ada.” Cory explained, watching as Ashton took a deep breath at his words, trying to conceal the urge to roll his eyes. “Just an extra pair of hands, for when you’re on stage or needed elsewhere. I know you said you don’t need help, and we believe you, but we just want what’s best for you. This is just to help you out, okay?” 
Ashton was ambivalent about the situation. On one hand, he knew they were just trying to make things easier for him, to give him a break when he would need it. On the other hand, he was a fully capable father, and the thought of leaving Ada with someone that he didn’t know made him feel slightly sick. 
He decided not to bite back. As frustrated as he felt, he didn’t want to make a bad first impression on you, especially if you were about to spend the next few months helping him to raise his daughter. 
“Okay.” He affirmed, sending you a slightly forced, but warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. We have a lot to talk about.” 
Cory sent you a reassuring smile and squeezed your shoulder, the small gesture of encouragement making you feel more welcome. You knew Ashton meant no harm; the introduction could have gone much worst. The first few nights were bound to be awkward, maybe even the first few weeks. You were living on the same bus as them, so you would be on hand to help out with Ada whenever Ashton needed you. 
“Hey, i’m Calum.” You were pulled into a warm hug, introducing yourself to the tall, heavily tattooed bass player. “Don’t let him scare you off. He’s very protective over Ada, but he’ll come around. It’s good to have you with us.”
“Thank you, Calum.” You replied, starting to feel less uncomfortable as you were made to feel more welcome by the rest of the band. 
“Come on, i’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”
***
“It usually takes a while to get her to sleep.” 
You were left alone with Ashton and Ada for the first time, knowing that you needed to break the ice between the three of you, in order to get them to trust you. It almost felt like you were back at school; Ashton reeling off rules and information off the top of his head as you tried to take it all in, nodding understandingly as he spoke. 
Ashton was trying his best to not be so opposed to the situation. It wasn’t your fault. You seemed caring, friendly and willing to help out in any way that you could, and he appreciated that. He just couldn’t stop the nagging voice in his head that told him that he didn’t need you, and that he was fully capable on his own.
“I don’t really know how her routine is going to work on tour.” He continued to explain, as he continued to unpack the seemingly never ending supply of nappies and baby grows, organising them into piles. “We had a good routine at home, but I don’t think it’ll work as smoothly here. She loves her uncles. She’ll get too excited to sleep if they’re around, so we’ll need to find somewhere quiet to settle her.” 
“I’m sure we can do that.” You reassured him, trying to take everything on board. He was still balancing Ada in his arms, her little hands clinging to his t-shirt as he moved around the kitchen. You were reluctant to ask him if you could hold her, but you pushed the reluctance to the back of your mind and decided to ask anyway. “Do you want me to take her whilst you sort your things out?” 
You saw the hesitance on his face at your question, taking a deep breath and kissing her cheek before nodding in your direction. “I’m right here, okay sweetheart?” 
You took her into your arms and settled her in your lap, so she could still watch what Ashton was doing from where you were sat on the sofa.
“Hi, Ada.” You cooed softly, stroking her cheek gently and cuddling her, so she felt safe in your hold. Her big green eyes were curiously studying your face, almost as if she was trying to work out if she knew you, and if she felt okay being held by you. “She has such beautiful eyes, Ashton.” 
He smiled at your words, a sadness seeming to take over his demeanor as he acknowledged your words. He paused for a moment, glancing at her in your arms before replying, “she looks like her mum.” 
Ashton avoided your gaze after he mentioned Ada’s mum, almost like he couldn’t bare to look at you or her in that moment. Being a single parent was tough in any circumstances. But you had a feeling there was something so painful about their situation; that there was more to it than her just getting up and leaving one day. You had so many questions. No one had told you how he ended up as a single father, and as much as you wanted to ask, the sadness in his eyes told you not to. It was far too early for that. He’d tell you when he was ready. 
The three of you sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a little longer, as Ashton finished sorting out all of their belongings. Ada got a little restless in your arms, reaching out for Ashton and crying “dada!” until he took her back into his embrace.
“Hi, sleepy baby.” He murmured to her, wrapping his arms around her and stroking through her hair. He looked as though he had missed her for the ten minutes that he hadn’t been holding her for, and you knew it was gonna take a lot longer for him to warm up to leaving her with you. “I’m gonna try and put her down. You can go and find the guys, if you want.”
You nodded and watched as he kissed her pouty lips, grabbing the warm bottle of milk from the microwave and heading to the back where the bunks were. It was clear he just wanted some time with her, and you understood. Walking out of the band’s bus, you headed to the where the rest of the crew were staying, trying to find some familiar faces.
“Hey, there you are. I’m Luke, by the way.” You recognised the blonde haired front man, accepting the friendly hug that he’d pulled you into. “I hear you’re gonna be staying on the bus with us. I hope we don’t scare you off too quickly.”
“If anyone is gonna do that, it’s Ashton.” Another voice piped up, who you soon learned to be Michael. “How are things going with him?”
“I mean, he let me hold her? So I think we’ve made some progress.” You replied, watching as Calum raised his thick eyebrows in surprise.
“He did? You’re doing well so far.” Calum scoffed, patting your shoulder reassuringly. It was slow and steady progress, but hearing their words made you feel a little better. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
***
Later that night, you and the three other members of the band finally made your way back to the bus, finding Ashton and Ada fast asleep on the sofa in the back room. Calum gently shook Ashton’s shoulder, waking him up so he could put Ada down and head to bed instead of sleeping on the sofa.
“Do you want me to take her? I can change her and put her to bed, if you like.” You offered, clearly seeing how tired he was and hoping you’d get a little more time with Ada, so she could get to know you.
“It’s okay, I got it.” Ashton replied, almost coldly, moving to grab Ada’s pyjamas, as she began to stir in his arms. “Shh, it’s alright, baby girl.”
You tried to hide the disappointment in your eyes as you watched them together, trying to think rationally and tell yourself that it was the first night, and he still wasn’t fully comfortable with idea of you being there.
“He’ll come around.” Calum reaffirmed softly, also noticing how you seemed a little deflated by Ashton’s words. “He just needs time.”
***
A few days later and there had been no major improvements; you’d held Ada whilst she napped a few times, and helped Ashton out by changing her and making her bottles.
Your relationship with him hadn’t had made much progress. You tried to be patient, tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t personal to you, it was him telling himself that he didn’t need any help. But the day of the first show had finally come around, therefore, it would be the first time Ada would be left alone with you.
“30 minutes until stage, guys.”
The atmosphere backstage was buzzing, the adrenaline and anticipation for the first show building more and more as time went by. Ashton was rocking Ada in his arms, hoping to get her to sleep before he had to leave so she wouldn’t notice that he was gone. But what he had previously told you proved true - she loved her uncles, and had no interest in sleeping when she knew they were around. Her wide eyes were eagerly looking around the green room, the heavy Australian rock music sounding through the speakers not helping to make a calm environment for her to fall asleep in.
“If she needs me, please come and get me.” Ashton told you, pressing several kisses to Ada’s forehead as he prepared to hand her over to you. “She’ll probably want a bottle soon and then go to sleep. But if she doesn’t, I can come and get her.”
“We’ll be just fine, Ashton.” You reassured him, knowing there is no way you would be allowed to disturb the show, no matter what Ashton wanted. You felt confident that you wouldn’t need to though, and that she’d be fine. “Go have fun, okay? She’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
He reluctantly handed her over to you, making sure she settled in your arms before grabbing his in-ears to prepare for the show. He didn’t take his eyes from her for as long as he could, making sure she wasn’t crying or didn’t look uncomfortable.
“Wave goodbye to daddy, Ada.” You cooed to her, grabbing her tiny hand in your larger one and waving it in Ashton’s direction, as you followed them to the stage. All four members fist bumped you and Ada as they left, soon learning that this was their pre show tradition, and they did it to every crew member in sight. “We’ll be okay for a few hours, won’t we?”
Ashton went out there and gave the show his all, like he always did. It felt good to be back on stage. He needed the release. It had been over a year since they’d done a show, and he felt great.
He couldn’t stop the looming thought that he had left Ada, that she’d be upset, and wondering where he was. He didn’t want the show to end, but on the other hand, he did. He wanted to shower and cuddle Ada and hold her as she fell asleep; his sweet baby girl.
Ashton all but threw his drumsticks as soon as the show was over and ran off stage, demanding to know where Ada was and if she was okay. When he couldn’t find you backstage and he was told you’d gone back to the bus, he was convinced something had gone wrong.
The sound of the door to the bus swinging open startled you, as you weren’t expecting the guys to be back for a little longer. You were so relieved; the first show had gone well. Ada wouldn’t settle backstage so you’d taken her back to the bus, changing her into her cosy pyjamas and giving her a bottle. She had been a dream, falling asleep after you’d rocked her in your arms, and not making a sound since.
“There you are.” Ashton sighed in relief, almost as if he was expecting you to be elsewhere. His heart melted as his eyes landed upon Ada curled into your chest, fast asleep, warm and content under the fluffy blanket you had wrapped her in. “Was she okay?”
“She’s was perfect, Ashton.” You replied, rubbing your hand up and down Ada’s back as she shifted in her sleep. “I just came back here because it’s quieter, and it’ll get her used to sleeping on the bus. I gave her a bottle and she went straight to sleep.”
It felt foreign to Ashton to see Ada fall asleep on someone who wasn’t him. He had rocked her to sleep pretty much every night for the past seven months, feeling calm and at peace when she fell asleep on him, her gentle breathing managing to slow his racing thoughts. It made him think that maybe she didn’t need him quite as much as he thought she did.
Seeing her asleep on your chest made his heart ache in a different way. It made him think of when she used to fall asleep on her mum, back when he wasn’t doing this all alone. It was hard to see. It made him wish that she had a mum. One that could be here to love and take care of her, like she had for the first five months of her life, before it all got snatched away.
“Thank you.” He murmured soflty, a sincerity in his eyes as you smiled back at him. “I appreciate it.”
“This is what I’m here for, Ashton.”
***
Some days, it felt like you’d taken two steps forward and three steps back.
A few weeks into the tour, Ashton was starting to warm up to your help and trust you more, after you’d managed to take care of Ada every night whilst he was on stage with only a few minor bumps. He had his moments; where he turned cold and all but ignored you, wanting to keep Ada to himself. Today was one of those days; much to everyone’s dismay, Ada had managed to catch a chest infection, and Ashton didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
“Ash, we need to go.” Calum told him cautiously, having been instructed by their manager to coax him away from Ada and off of the bus. They had an afternoon of promo and interviews followed by a show and it wasn’t appropriate for Ada to be there, especially when she wasn’t feeling good. You were meant to be taking care of her, but Ashton was reluctant to leave her behind.
“I told you, I’m not leaving her.” Ashton replied sternly, running a hand through Ada’s messy curls as she snuggled into his chest, coughing sadly. “She needs me today, you can go without me.”
“She doesn’t need you, Ashton. She needs taking care of, which will still happen if you come with us.” Calum’s words seemed harsh and he didn’t want to piss Ashton off, but it could be difficult when he was so stubborn and would refuse to listen to anyone. “I know you worry about her, but she’s gonna be fine for a few hours without you.”
“That’s what I’m here for Ashton, I can take care of her.” You reassured him, reaching out to rub Ada’s back in an attempt to get him to give her to you. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“You promise to text if you need anything or if she gets worst?” Ashton demanded, sending a glare of annoyance in Calum’s direction, even though he knew rationally that it wasn’t his fault.
“Of course.” You understood that he was protective of her. But it hurt sometimes when you felt as though he didn’t trust you to take care of Ada, when you’d given him no reason to believe that you couldn’t. In your heart you knew it ran deeper than that. He was her one and only parent, and he took that responsibility very seriously. “Please, try not to worry. We’ll be okay.”
You really did think you would be okay. However, Ada was not; as soon as Ashton had finally passed her over and followed the guys out of the bus, she hadn’t stopped crying. She was hot, uncomfortable, over-tired, and probably missing Ashton.
You’d asked their manager if you could call Ashton, like you promised, but he declined; he didn’t want any distractions, meaning you had to work out how to soothe her on your own.
“It’s okay, Ada.” You paced back and forth in the small bus, rubbing her back and trying to keep her pacifier in her mouth as she cried. Her chest was wheezy and her nose blocked, making it hard for her breathe as she wailed sadly against your shoulder. “Your dad will be back so soon, sweet girl. It’s okay.”
An anxious feeling was building in your stomach at the thought of her still being upset when Ashton got back. He would not be happy, after you were so insistent on being able to take care of her, and how much he didn’t want to leave.
It hadn’t been Ashton’s best show.
He so badly wanted to relax into it and be able to give it his all, like he usually did. But all he could think about was Ada, about how unwell she was and how badly he just wanted to cuddle her until she felt better again. He wanted to trust you; wanted to feel okay with leaving her with you without it putting him in a bad mood. Maybe he’d get there, eventually.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. That’s what he thought, anyway, when he reached the bus and he could hear Ada crying from outside. The guys noticed how he tensed up and his entire demeanour changed, as he rushed into the bus.
“Has she been crying the whole time?!” He asked you without any other greeting, holding his arms out and immediately taking Ada into them. “I told you to call me. You promised me that you would call if she didn’t stop crying.”
“They wouldn’t let me, Ashton. She’s just not feeling well, that’s not my fault.” You replied, the exhaustion from the last few difficult hours making you a little more defensive than you usually would be. It was understandable that he was worried. It was just getting a little tiring that he seemed to be so frustrated with you all of the time, when you were just trying to do your job.
“This is why I didn’t want to leave her with you. This is why I said I wasn’t going to leave her. She needs me.” He angrily rambled, trying not to let his stress cause Ada any further upset but struggling to hold it in due to his annoyance at the situation. “No one listened to me. I should’ve stayed here with her and she would have been fine.”
“That’s not fair, Ashto-“
“Just please, give us some space and let me look after my baby.” He was tired, and didn’t want to say anything else that he would regret, which he knew he would if the conversation continued.
“Hey, cmon. Let’s go for a walk.” Calum grabbed your arm softly, spotting the tears welling up in your eyes and wanting to diffuse the situation. He gestured for Luke to stay with Ashton, knowing that he too needed calming down even though he wanted to be alone with Ada. Michael took the hint and decided to join you and Calum, following the two of you off of the bus.
The three of you walked in silence as you tried your best to hold back tears, feeling like you’d somehow failed both Ashton and Ada. Evidence of the late night cold temperature appeared as you exhaled, clouds of air visible as you took deep breaths to try and calm down.
“I know it’s hard to believe.” Michael started, breaking the silence as the three of you found a bench at the far end of the car park, overlooking the arena they had just played at. “But it’s not personal to you. He would be acting the exact same way with anyone else in your position.”
“I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” You replied, trying to swallow the lump in your throat and keep the tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of them. “He seems so frustrated with me all of the time. I’m just trying my best. She’s a baby, they get ill and they cry sometimes. I thought he would understand that.”
“And he does.” Calum reassured you, patting your knee to offer his comfort as he tried to explain. “Ashton is a complex person. He’s been through a lot, especially in the last year. I don’t know how much he’s told you about Ada’s mum, but I’m guessing it’s not a lot.”
“He always seemed so sad whenever I mentioned her, and he never said anything. So I just stopped bringing her up.” You explained, knowing that it was a sensitive subject not only for Ashton but for the whole band. “I don’t even know her name. He’s such a closed book. I just want to get to know him, and I want him to know me so he’ll trust me with Ada.”
“Ada’s mum passed away when she was five months old.” Michael murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear what he said. “There were a lot of complications after she was born. Her body just kind of gave up.”
Your heart broke at his words, and you sighed deeply. It explained a lot. It explained why Ashton was so reluctant to talk about her, and why his entire mood changed whenever she was mentioned. Your heart ached for Ada. The sweet baby girl who barely had a chance to get to know her mum, and now she never would.
“It took Ashton a long time to find someone who he truly felt himself with. She was it for him, you know? They’d only just got engaged before she got pregnant with Ada. They didn’t even have the chance to get married.” Calum felt as though he might be telling you too much, that it should have come from Ashton. But you were here for a reason, and he thought you deserved an explanation for why Ashton seemed to be making it so difficult for you. “He’s always struggled with his emotions. But he’s still healing. He’s so used to being alone with Ada, he’s all she knows. I think he’s just scared to let anyone else in.”
“He wouldn’t accept much help from us either, if that makes you feel any better. We all offered to move in with him after she passed, because he was struggling so much. But he said he could handle it alone, so he did.” Michael added, adding another piece to the jigsaw you were forming mentally, trying to work Ashton out. “Thats what I mean when I say it’s not personal. He wants to do everything alone.”
“You should talk to him.” Calum suggested, turning to look at you so he knew you were listening. “There’s a reason he is the way that he is. But I think you need to hear it from him.”
***
“She just wants to help, Ash.” Luke felt like they were going in circles. He wasn’t sure Ashton had listened to a word he had said, as he walked in circles and rocked Ada against his chest, patting her back to try and clear her chest a little. She had calmed down since Calum and Michael had diffused the situation, sadly clinging to his tshirt in an attempt to soothe herself. “Her only reason for being here is to help out with Ada, and you’re not letting her do that.”
“Ada doesn’t need her.”
Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes, resting the back of his head against the wall as he sighed. He felt like he was talking to the wall. He had known Ashton for a long time, and had never experienced him being as stubborn as this in his entire life.
“Why are you so against anyone helping you? She has done nothing wrong. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You and I both know that it wasn’t her fault that Ada didn’t settle tonight. You’re giving her such a hard time.” Luke didn’t want this to escalate into an argument - that was the last thing they needed. But he saw no other way to get through to Ashton, and it needed to be said.
“You don’t understand, Luke.” Ashton felt so vexed, like he was so deep into his frustrations that he had to try so hard not to blow them all onto someone he saw as his younger brother. “Ada only has one parent, and that’s me. Her mum isn’t here anymore, and she never will be. I promised her that I would do everything for Ada. She’s my responsibility, so I should be the one taking care of her.”
Luke sat in silence for a moment, his heart aching at the rant spilling from Ashton. Not one to talk about his feelings, he knew this had been building up for the last seven months.
“Are you worried she’s going to replace Ada’s mum?” Luke asked cautiously, watching as tears pricked Ashton’s eyes, who was looking down at his baby girl, attempting to find a distraction. “Because that’s not what this is, Ash. Not at all.”
Ashton didn’t reply.
“Let us help you both, Ashton. That’s all we want.” Luke continued, noticing how the first tear spilled from his eye and slipped down his cheek. “We love and care about you both so much. You have to let people in.”
Ashton didn’t want to admit it, but Luke was right.
Everyday was another day further away from when he last saw the love of his life; the person he could see himself spending the rest of his days with, building his family and growing old with. She was never coming back. That was something he had tried every day to accept; he thought he had. When in reality, he wasn’t sure he ever could.
“When she feeds Ada, or changes her, or rocks her to sleep, all I can think about is the fact that her mum should be doing that. And she’ll never be able to.” Ashton broke down. Luke quickly moved into action, gently taking Ada out of his arms and holding her in his own, so Ashton could take a moment for himself. Ada quickly settled against him, suddenly making the whole situation much more emotional to him too. The fact that she’d never get to know her mum was enough to break anyone’s heart. And she had no idea. “I’m the next closest thing to her mum. I’m all she knows. I can’t bear the thought of leaving her too.”
“You aren’t leaving her. You’re right here with her, Ash, she knows that. She knows you won’t leave her.” Ada was watching her dad with sleepy eyes, identical to those of her mum, sucking idly on her pacifier as Luke held her close. “You don’t have to do this alone. You need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself, if not for your own sake, for hers.”
***
You, Calum and Michael wandered around the car park for a while longer, trying to lighten the atmosphere and the mood by talking about things other than Ashton’s situation. Your heart ached for him. He was clearly in a lot of pain, but was taking it out on others, and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.
“Hey, you’re back.” Luke spoke as the three of you headed back onto the bus, finding Ashton sprawled across the sofa, Ada tucked underneath his tshirt, against his chest. She had finally fallen asleep, one tiny hand clutching the necklace hanging against Ashton’s chest, like she was trying to keep him there.
“Can we talk?” You asked, Ashton’s gaze breaking from watching Ada sleep to you stood directly in from of him. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation, if he was being honest. But it needed to be said, and you deserved an explanation.
“I think that’s a good idea.” He replied, gesturing for his three band mates to give them some space. They quickly took the hint and moved to the back room, arguing over which video game to play first.
You had no idea what the conversation between Ashton and Luke had consisted of. You couldn’t help but notice his slightly red and puffy eyes, suggesting he had been crying, and you knew this was about to be a difficult conversation.
“I’m really sorry about earlier.” Ashton started, his deep eyes looking straight into yours, offering a genuineness that you had never felt from him before. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for Ada being unsettled. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you.” You replied, giving him a weak smile as an additional thanks. You genuinely appreciated his words - you didn’t want him to think you were incapable of caring for Ada when she was ill. “But I’m sorry too. I promised you, I should’ve been more insistent for them to tell you what was going on.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway.” He waves his hand at you as a gesture of forgetting about what had happened previously. “I feel like I owe you more than one apology. I know you’re trying, and I’ve probably made it a lot more difficult than it should have been.”
“I just want you to trust me, Ashton. I care about Ada, and you need to understand that I’m here to do just that; care for her. But that doesn’t mean she needs you any less. You’re her dad, she knows that.” You reassured him, knowing there was no point holding anything back. If you’re were going to have this conversation, everything need to come out.
“You’re the first woman I’ve seen care for Ada like her mum used to.” Ashton stated, rubbing Ada’s back as she stirred a little in her sleep. “Except for my mum, I’ve only seen her fall asleep with me or one of the guys. Seeing you take care of her like that, it just... it makes me wish her mum was here.”
It suddenly started to make much more sense.
You were the first person to act as a mother figure to Ada, since her own mum passed, and that had to be hard for Ashton to see.
“I’m not trying to be her mum.” You sighed, moving from sitting oppsite to sitting next to the two of them on the sofa, so the conversation seemed less confrontational. “I’m really not, Ashton. I never thought of it that way, but Calum explained a few things to me. I’m starting to understand how you saw it like that.”
“She’s not going to remember anything about her mum.” He continued, his voice soft as though he was just rambling thoughts that had plagued his mind over and over again. “It breaks my heart. I guess I just got scared that you being here would replace the little memories she does have of her.”
“I’m sorry.” It felt like the only thing you could say.
He shook his head, almost offering you a small smile as he seemed to relax all of a sudden. “It’s not your fault. I’m punishing you for it and that’s not fair.”
It felt like a weight had been lifted. Like he’d finally come to terms with the fact that he was surrounded by people who cared about him and Ada, and all they wanted was to help him.
“You can talk to me, if you want. I’m here for Ada but that means I’m here for you too.” You offered, reassuringly placing your hand on his shoulder as you spoke.
“I appreciate that.”
The frustration that had previously lingered like a dark cloud in the air seemed to have cleared, as you and Ashton sat in a comfortable silence, watching Ada sleep comfortably on his chest.
“Do you want me to put her down?” You asked, with a hint of amusement in your voice, almost like it was a test to see if you had actually gotten through to him.
He returned your smile, chuckling to himself as he softly kissed Ada’s forehead and sat up from the sofa. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
It wasn’t a lot, but it was progress. As you settled Ada into bed for the night before heading to your own bunk, you thought maybe, things wouldn’t be so difficult after all. 
***
Let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated ♥️
Taglist: @irwinkitten @i-calumhood @gorgeouslygrace @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil @fivesecondsof-mee @maluminspace @fluffsshawn @xhaileyreneex @dammitbands (message me to be added!)
243 notes · View notes