#i got a couple replies due and they will happen... sometime this weekend most likely

[delulujuls]

young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

[cinemaspoppycornuwu]

𝕀𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕤 🔫🦋

"And once again he shoots himself..." Bria sighed as Giorno, Narancia and Mista entered the room together. Narancia had light wounds while Mista, got more severe ones. The gunslinger was famous for some things: first, being a huge flirt with every breathing woman. Second, shooting himself thousands of times. Third, he was in Bucciarati's team. And last, he is afraid of the number 4, for some stupid old reason which happened in the past.

"Oh, not again..." the honey blonde girl spoke to herself "Guido, you know the proceedment."

"Right..." he removed his shirt for her to analysis. Nicki was known to be the 'private doctor/nurse' of Passione by her studying in medicine and her stand, Vagalumes (capable of healing most kinds of wounds but can't heal some things like: miopic problems, color blindness, because these are genetic things. Even she needs glasses). "Bria, go check on Narancia for me while I take care of Gui."

"Right"

"Hey! Careful, Bria!" Answered the young looking boy

"Calm down, I am just looking. Besides. Even if it was necessary for me to check... Everything, there wouldn't be a thing you needed to hide because I already—"

"NO NEED TO EXPOSE ME!" his blush intensified, from embarassment, which made Bria laugh like if they were actual siblings.

"Let's give a look... Hmmm... Vagalumes, I need some light here" her stand appeared and gently greeted Guido "Hm... I can see it! Lucky you it isn't that deep. I need a cloth or gauze. And a clamp to get those" and the stand went flying to get some "Thanks, ladies. Guido, I'll try to make it less painful as possible. Now..." said as cleaned "...you're lucky none of the bullets hit your back or any vital organs. It was a more superficial thing. And I must say I am even impressed there were less bullets this time!"

"Heh... Only you to take care of me, love" he winked at her. Guido admired the tiniest details. The way she bit her lip while concentrated, her focused chocolate brown eyes, the beautiful freckles all over her face.

"Okay... The last one... Done! Now, let's close up those wounds. Vagalumes!" The ten little creatures, mix of butterflies and moths landed on his olive-tanned skin and fluttered their wings to heal it "You should be more careful sometimes..."

"It is kinda worthy being all hurt to get treated by this incredible nurse~♡"

"Doc, I am feeling sick. I am gonna puke."

"What?!"

"Because Guido is being too cheesy!"

"Oh, Nara..." she sighed reliefed, already thinking before he had some food-poisoning.

"Thank you, Nicki. Now, do you need any help with that rascal there?"

"Hey!"

"None. I'll just check on him and we are able to go home."

"Good. Cause it is friday and this saturday off and sunday is our off day" she smiled at his reply and directioned her attention back to Narancia. After everything, the couple cleaned up the area and organized it, leaving ready for monday. Their turn was over and now it was the perfect time to relax "It is still 17:50 P.M... What do you think of going out for a dinner only the two of us tonight?"

"Maybe we can leave it for the next weekend... Since... My period came right now... I've got cramps..."

"Need to say no more."

[At home]

Guido took off his suit and went to their bathroom to run a warm bath for both of them. Nicki removed her clothes and sat on the toilet to let the blood go there and wash the excess of it using a hygienic shower.

"This is stupid..."

"Maybe it was the stress of this week."

"Yeah... But I am kinda glad it came on the friday... My period takes 7 days. The first three days are the most hard due to the pain. The other ones are kinda light. In the seventh, almost no blood."

"I don't know how you girls handle it" said as he removed all of his clothes and divided in the bathtub. Guido had an amazing body. His chest was defined and he wore a pendant with a cross on it, resembling his family from catholic origins. He knew the traditions but he was a mostly "none-praticant". He had a some hair on his chest and in his strong, slightly veiny arms. For her, Guido Mista was her roman model.

"I don't know how you handle so many bullets" once she finished her private higiene, it was her turn to dive in the bathtub with him. Nicki thought her body wasn't of a model but as long as she could do her activites, it was perfect. But for Guido, her thick tights, the 96 of chest (author's quick note: I had to check on mine to see that 😭), her freckles all over the body, her soft tummy, her mere 1,52 metres tall everything was amazing "Oh, I was needing this..."

He kissed her neck gently and hugged her "It's okay, babe... You're safe here in my arms... Now, I'll spoil you this night..."

"Amore, this isn't necessary."

"My strong woman got cramps and I can't even help? Nonsense! I'll do some of your favourite snacks~"

"I don't deserve you" she kissed him as a thanks "You're too sweet~"

After a long relaxing bath, both got out and wore their most comfy pajamas. The one blonde wore was a little bit too big on her which made her gain the teasing nickname of Dopey (yes, one of Snow White's dwarfs. Because the size of his clothes). Sometimes none of them could have predicted they would have been destined to meet eachother. But it was one of the best things in their lives. Mista had only saw disgrace since the incident when he tried to defend a woman. Even though his friends were there, mafia is an obscure world, even when Giorno is trying to deal it with a new perspective and experimenting a new direction.

While for Nicki, she actually had a great life despite being humiliated sometimes in school and had her heart broken twice by one boy and a girl. Once she met Mista, she thought it could be different. And in fact was.

"Gui...?" She asked with a soft voice while cuddling with him.

"Yes?"

"I love you... I know you know this but I had to say it..."

"I love you too, mia ragazza carina... You're so goddamn adorable... Please, don't change... And if you do, for the better version of yourself..."

"Leave it to me..." said as leaned foward to kiss his soft lips lazily. Yeah. They for sure found love. Not only that. They have met their own lifemates and best friends.

"Now, what would you like to watch?'

"You can watch something... I am feeling pain and I'll try to get some sleep...

"Okay... Want me to sing a lullaby for you?"

"Guido!"

"I am just messing with you, love! Haha! Sweet dreams, princess... You're safe with me..."

[punkslovepoints]

What Happens at Comic Con Stays At Comic Con - Part 8/9 Pairing: Steddie (Stranger Things)

The bell on the door of Family Video jangled and in walked Will Byers. It was a few days after their trip and Steve was working the morning shift. Robin wasn't due in for another few hours and the store was deathly quiet so although Steve was surprised to see Will without his friends, he welcomed the distraction.

"Byers, what can I do for you?" He smiled his patented customer service face as Will approached the counter.

"Are you dating Eddie?" Right, okay. It wasn't like he wasn't expecting it but this was right off the bat.

"No."

"But you're hooking up?"

God, they really weren't kids anymore. Steve thought about lying for a second, "Not any more."

Will looked thoughtful, "But you were?" Steve nodded.

"You're gay?"

"No."

"But you're not straight?"

"I guess not."

"Okay. What happened?"

"I realized I liked guys the same way I liked girls."

"No, what happened with Eddie?"

"Oh, right. Yeah."

He'd hoped to talk about this with Robin, probably still would. But another opinion would be helpful, especially someone who had been there while it was happening. Even though he was a kid, Will was the most insightful of the bunch, and he may have another perspective that would come in useful too, not that Steve was going to mention that unless Will brought it up.

He ran a hand through his hair, signaled Will to follow him to the corner of the store. "Honestly, I fucked it up."

The edge of Will's mouth twitched, "That's not surprising."

"Hey!"

"Okay, tell me how you fucked it up."

"I guess I let feelings get involved. I thought it was one thing. Soon found out it was another. The usual stuff."

Will looked at him. Sometimes with Will, it was like talking to a much older person, almost a peer. Steve guessed after what Will had gone through he'd had to grow up quickly. But there was more than that, there was a maturity that wasn't from the trauma. That was just Will.

"Eddie doesn't strike me as a no feelings kinda guy. Actually he strikes me as an all the feelings kinda guy."

Steve's voice was a little high-pitched when he responded, frustration in his tone, "That's what I thought! But he was very clear. What happens at comic con, stays at comic con."

"He said that?"

"Well, no. I did."

"You did?"

"Yes!" Steve waved his hands about, "But he agreed."

"Right," Will nodded thoughtfully, "That doesn't sound all that clear to me. Did you ask for clarity?"

Steve leaned back on one of the video racks. This conversation was giving him a headache. "Believe it or not given my history, but there's only so much pain I can take."

Will stopped and thought for a moment. "I guess you have to ask yourself if he's worth the pain anyway." There was a knock at the window. Mike stood outside the store, he nodded at Steve and gestured at Will, a rare smile on his face.

"I've got to go," Will headed towards the door.

"How do I know?" Steve asked him as he reached the exit, "If he's worth it anyway?"

Will stopped, stepping back before replying. "Twelve," he smirked. "Lucas was right. There were twelve Princess Leia's this weekend and you saw none of them because you were too busy staring at Eddie."

Steve agrees to take the kids to comic con. Eddie tags along. Feelings happen.

Steve and Eddie hook up during a weekend away but will they work out what they actually want before they have to head home?

Expect nerdy references, lots of flirting, plenty of pining, dorky Steve, fun tropes (trapped in a stairwell! couples costumes! road trip! sharing a bed!) and a wee bit of light angst.

[read the rest of the chapter on AO3]

[bigbangsmasher]

“The worst thing about seeing the new year’s celebrations is realizing I’ve been stuck in this dang city for over a year. What’s my resolution supposed to be? Finally go and see the Swirling Gulf? Not even a new year could make me do that.”

“The second worst thing is the fact that I’ve been here for over a year and no one’s confessed their love to me yet! How’s a girl supposed to get some when the fish don’t bite no matter what kind of bait I use?”

“Alright, I’m over it now. I’ve decided that you all just have bad taste and it’s not my fault.”

[seriouslysnape]

Under the Radar

__

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: None. 

Request: hiii can I request a husband Severus Snape x wife reader. The reader is a professor in Hogwarts they don't want the students to know so they kept it a secret. And the Weasley twins are the first to know. (the Weasley twins are close to reader since she's kind thanks.) and you can continue it your own way. (灬º‿º灬)♡

Word Count: 2,014

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,”

__

“You have class in fifteen minutes, Severus.” You nagged at your husband who was still sprawled out in bed.

A groggy chuckle escaped from the man as he finally sat up on his elbows to look at you, watching as you hurried to get dressed before you were horribly late.

“So do you, love.” He countered.

“Yes, but I’m almost ready,” You argued with a slight roll of your eyes; “And you are not.”

“It doesn’t take me long. You know this.” He bantered.

It was true after all. Severus didn’t put that much effort into getting ready everyday. Pants, robes, shoes, and MAYBE brush his hair. That was the morning routine of Severus Snape. You were a bit more refined, taking time to pick out an outfit and making yourself look presentable to your personal standards.

“I know, but do you really want your Potions classroom unattended with a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors?” You grinned, knowing that they’d wreak havoc sooner or later.

Severus groaned at the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time where he walked in at the last minute to stop Ron Weasley from throwing a cauldron at Draco Malfoy’s head. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, padding to his closet where you stood as well.

“One of these days, I’ll get a morning of peace and have you for myself.” He grumbled.

You gave a mocking, sympathetic pout at your mumbling husband. You took his face into your hands, drumming your fingers playfully along his cheeks.

“Poor baby. Because you NEVER get any time with me.” You said with a tone thick with sarcasm.

Severus huffed, but his arms snaked around your waist.

“Is it so wrong to want a quiet morning with my wife?” He questioned.

Severus had a point. It had been quite some time since the two of you had the opportunity to sleep in, to drown out the world until the two of you felt ready to brave it together. He missed waking you up by peppering you with lazy kisses and soft, sweet mumbles in your ear. Life had just gotten so busy that things weren’t exactly what he would consider standard for the two of you.

It also didn’t help that outside of your private bedroom, you weren’t exactly a public couple. Aside from the faculty and staff of Hogwarts, none of the students had any knowledge of yours and Severus’ marriage. It had been a mutual decision, considering that neither of you were sure you wanted all the kids knowing that two professors were married to one another. While your last name had legally been changed to Snape, you were always referred to by your maiden name. As far as the students knew, you and Severus hadn’t even ever had a conversation, let alone tied the knot almost three years ago.

“I know, Sev. I’ll tell you what. I’ll clear my schedule for tomorrow since it’s Saturday. We can sleep in...” You said, lowering your voice to a whisper in his ear; “And I’ll be all yours all day.”

The way that his eyes lit up made your heart leap. He kissed you excitedly, your laugh muffled under the kiss. Despite the fact that you had a ten minute head start, Severus still managed to be ready before you, stealing another quick kiss before he was out the door en route to the dungeons.

Your classes went smoothly as usual. The students were peppy with energy since it was Friday, but their focuses were very in tune with your lessons for the day. You had returned to your office after classes to do some fast grading before giving in to the weekend. Most of the students had returned to their dorms to have some down time before getting into their weekend shenanigans. However, it seemed that your biggest fans were even more boisterous than usual.

Your office door swung open rather abruptly, causing you to flinch and grab at your chest in alarm.

“Hi, Professor!” Fred Weasley screeched.

“Hey, Professor [Y/N]!” George echoed.

The red-headed twins were (without a doubt) very fond of you. Your personality just seemed to mix well with theirs, and you were always willing to take time out of your day to chat with them. You were usually one of the first to know about their daring pranks, always having to fake your surprise when they actually did them.

“Hi, boys.” You greeted with a smile.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for students to come by your office during the day. Usually it was because they had a concern about their performance in your class or confusion on an assignment. With the Weasley twins, though, they always came by just because they felt like it.

“Grading on a Friday?” Fred acquired, plopping down into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

George tutted, eyeing over the stack of tests on your desk.

“It’s a shame. You should be out getting knackered at The Three Broomsticks with McGonagall.” George said, scanning nosily over the objects on your bookshelf.

You snorted, resuming your grading.

“I’ll leave the heavy imbibing to the two of you. The day that I see Minerva McGonagall getting hammered at a bar will be the day that I become a Legilimens.” You replied.

George and Fred snickered, continuing to talk your ears off while they snooped around. You never minded their company, as long as they didn’t stop your grading progress. You didn’t notice when the two of them went quiet. You also didn’t notice when George silently called for his brother to join him across the room. 

Fred got up from his seat to see what George had found, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he saw what it was. You had a habit of leaving your stuff laying around random areas of your office, so sometimes little hints of your relationship with Severus were out in the open for anyone to see. However, George and Fred were the only people on the planet who would actually find anything.

On one of your bookshelves rested an empty, opened envelope. It was a letter from a pen pal friend of yours that you had lost physical contact with after you graduated from Hogwarts. However, the kicker was that the addressed name on the front wasn’t what the twins would have expected to see.

It was addressed to you, using your married name. 

George and Fred looked at each other with quizzical expressions. Why in the world would you have something addressed to you with Snape’s last name? George and Fred had this weird, telepathic twin communication thing that always freaked you out. They could sort out a problem or have a conversation without ever saying anything. 

Their puzzled looks faded into realization when they sorted it out. They almost couldn’t believe it. Severus Snape married to one of the friendliest, nicest professors? It was shocking...but it did make sense.

You always wore a wedding ring on your left hand, but no one seemed to know who the lucky guy was. You were very private about your personal life.

Fred pocketed the envelope, and George announced their exit.

“Lovely to see you as always.” He said, holding down his giggle.

“Yeah, we’ll see you Monday, Professor.” Fred added on, ushering his brother out before either of them could blow it.

You gave them a friendly wave as they left, still clueless to the fact that they had found out your secret.

Monday morning rolled around (after Severus’ promised Saturday morning in) once again, and another week had begun. It didn’t take long for you to notice that something was odd.

Students all day had been acting strangely. Their quiet whispers and sneaky giggles when they passed by you in the corridors were definitely suspicious. You couldn’t get them to pay attention in class for the life of you, all of them clearly preoccupied.

“Draco Malfoy,” You snapped, hands on your hips; “Just what are you laughing about now?”

Draco’s laughter stopped, but his amused smile never left his face. This was the third time today that you had gotten on to him for disrupting class, him and Crabbe chuckling on and off about something. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Draco replied, still chortling under his breath.

You sighed out heavily. All of the kids were testing your nerves today.

“If I hear any more interruptions from you, I’ll have to give you detention,” You scolded, but in a calm tone; “Do you understand?”

Draco nodded, waiting until your back turned to the board again before he responded.

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

Your writing stopped, the entire classroom bursting into hushed laughter. You turned to face the young Malfoy, his cheeks flushed as he and Crabbe failed to contain their laughter any longer. It was obvious now that the whispers and weird glances were due to the fact that they knew. Somehow, they had found out.

“Professor [L/N].” You corrected.

“Hmm, but technically you’re Professor Snape.” He hummed.

You bit your cheek in thought. If they knew, there wasn’t any sense in denying it. But you were curious as to how this started.

“Draco, how did you all find out?” You questioned.

He shrugged with a smirk.

“I heard it from Pansy.” He admitted.

You looked to Pansy.

“Blaise told me.” She confessed.

You followed the trail of names and who-told-who until it stemmed back to the original perpetrators. Two suspects that you should have figured long ago.

“The twins. Of course.” You sighed.

The students had questions (and a lot of them), curious to know how long and how it had happened. Most of them were just stunned that Severus Snape actually had a life outside of his classroom. A life with someone like YOU nonetheless.

You were fidgety to talk to Severus about it. You were curious to see how he’d react and how this would change the way the two of you interacted during the school year. After all, it was kind of your fault for leaving your stuff around.

“Were the students acting peculiar to you today?” Severus asked, breaking you from your thoughtful daze.

Your gaze snapped up from your dinner plate as you peered at him with a fluttery belly.

“Peculiar how?” You asked.

“They all seemed mischievous. As if they knew something they weren’t supposed to.” Severus claimed, looking at you as if he already knew the reason why.

“Well, now that you mention it...they sort of know about us...that we’re married.” You confessed.

Truthfully, Severus didn’t care that much if the student body knew. It was inevitable that they’d all find out eventually, but he was interested to hear how exactly the cat was let out of the bag.

“They ‘sort of’ know?” He questioned, clearly amused; “How’s that?”

You sucked in a breath.

“The Weasley twins might’ve figured it out. They’re smart, Sev. Much smarter than you give them credit for,” You babbled; “It’s not their fault. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop, stop,” He cut you off with a soft smile; “You don’t think I’m mad about this, do you?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his gentle tone, but your eyes remained wide.

“It’s just that we...always wanted to keep it a secret.” You reminded him.

His head nodded and he set his fork down to give you his full attention.

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,” Severus pointed out; “I could never keep you hidden away forever.”

Your cheeks burned at his compliment, your smile beaming at him. He nudged your foot under the table. It was a wondrous thought to think about how different (or not) things would be now that they knew.

“I’m afraid I’ll still have to keep my maiden name. To avoid confusion.” You stated.

“Of course. Just as long as you’re still my Mrs. Snape.” He grinned with a wink.

You returned with a laugh, prompting the end of the lighthearted conversation.

“That I can definitely promise.”

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 6: Things shift

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this, hope you like it. I only plan on 2 maybe 3 more parts of this.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (oral female receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it kids), voyeurism, 18+

Word Count: 6600

April 8, 2021

A: Hey want to go for a walk with Felix and I?

You stare at your screen for a few minutes, the message sitting on read. Since giving Auston your number a week and a half ago he has text you three times. Two were pictures of Felix, and the third was a meme.

The Leafs had a few days off during that stretch, you saw Fred a little but you haven’t seen Auston since you left his house. You also haven’t told Fred about Auston, and since he hasn’t brought it up you don’t think Auston told him.

It’s not that you did anything wrong or cheated on Fred; you aren’t in a relationship, with either man. You haven’t talked about what you are, or where this is heading, if anywhere. The season is almost half over and you have no idea what will happen after that. Last time the season ended you barely heard from Fred for three months, and Auston almost 4.

When you agreed to sleep with Auston, you never specified it would only be with Fred, only in threesome situations. You never discussed the dynamics of you and Auston, and what the boundaries were. You know all of this.

Yet something feels wrong. Like you shouldn’t have done that behind Fred’s back and you shouldn’t keep doing it without with Fred knowing. That you should talk to Fred before you and Auston sleep together again, assuming you do sleep with him again. You don’t even know if you want to sleep with him when it’s just Auston. Not that you had a bad time, it was far from it. You just don’t know what it means, if anything.

There is so much you are uncertain of, all you know is how you felt about Fred last year. Things were going great, and you talked about summer plans. They were loose plans like being his plus 1 to a teammates wedding, going up to the Muskoka’s for a weekend with Mitch and Steph. He even mentioned a five day trip to Iceland, though that seemed unlikely to happen given the amount of planning required. But everything was heading towards a relationship until the world stopped.

And now a year later, the world is spinning. People are getting vaccinated everywhere except Canada; but they say they are coming, and the countries with vaccinated people are easing restrictions. Everything seems to be heading for a new normal, but where does that leave you and Fred?

Some nights you feel like a set of holes for him to use like target practice. But other times you wake up to Fred gently brushing your hair, legs tangled beneath the sheets placing soft kisses on your forehead or shoulder and you feel like so much more.

Intimate dinners.

Sex.

Cute text messages.

Sex.

Lazy Sundays.

Sex.

Bubble baths together.

Sex.

So much back and forth, it’s very confusing. And that’s just with Fred, you can’t even begin to understand the dynamic of Auston.

He has been a roller coaster, and not just the way he throws you around in bed. The first time he was dominant, but ended it with a soft kiss. The kiss lingered on your lips for days, your mind was swirling from it. Sometimes his eyes are dark and full of fire, but other times you get glimpses of him and that kiss.

Sure you had some feelings for Auston last year, but you told yourself they were feelings of lust. Completely, 100% sexually driven. But they were just feelings of sex right? Just the heat developing in your core from being around him fogging the sense and reason of your brain.

Auston finds moments to wrap his arms around you, placing soft kisses on your forehead or your lips. Doesn’t matter if Fred is in the other room or 5 feet away he will do it. While he drives his hard dick into your walls, he’ll have eyes dark with hunger. But after they are soft, and he doesn’t hesitate to lay soft and passionate kisses on your lips while Fred is lying inches beside you.

He exudes so much dominance, both men do. You are actually surprised it doesn’t turn into a pissing match with them, but they direct it all to you. They let you think you are in control, but the first chance they get they take over. Spilling words of venom, pulling orgasm after orgasm, juices coating their cocks and fingers.

The sight alone is enough to send you home with an ache between your legs. They are patient while you are with the other one, knowing their turn is coming. Not too patient though. But through all of it they don’t fight or get jealous of you.

Until last week ago that is, running into Auston in the elevator.

When he was hovering over you, kissing along the marks Fred had left earlier in the day, you got the feeling he was jealous you had spent time with him. You don’t know if it’s because he wasn’t there or that he didn’t like that you were sleeping with someone other than him, but he seemed bothered by it. But he would be naïve to think you and Fred only sleep together with him right?

An hour before that he was mumbling in your ear while cuddling on his couch. He looked at you like he wanted to hold you tight to his chest and never let you leave. Maybe it’s just a part of who he is, how he plays girls. You know he has a reputation around Toronto, besides his performance on the ice. There are rumours that over his first four seasons he has a revolving door of women while on road trips.

Obviously this year with Covid he has been much more mellow, no rumours or stories. But you don’t know if there is any truth to the rumours, you don’t know if he’s sleeping with other women. Not on road trips, the league has strict protocols in place for road teams. But at home they are supposed to follow local health guidelines. He could easily have another girl, and you are just someone he uses when called upon.

Maybe you are just a piece for him to bide his time with until restrictions are loosened, just an easy solution with the leagues COVID protocol’s. Or maybe he sees you as something more. Either way it’s all very convoluted.

Fingers hovering over your screen you mull over everything. Just before you go to type three little dots pop up as if he can sense your hesitation. You decide to wait before replying and are met with a selfie of him and Felix cuddling in bed, tattooed arm fully on display due to his lack of shirt. A “please play with me Y/N” text obviously supposed to be from Felix coming in immediately afterwards.

You can’t help the way your legs snap shut, rubbing together in search of friction. Or the involuntary groan that tumbles out as you stare at over his arm and down to his abs. But it’s the big beady eyes of Felix that win you over and without a second thought you quickly reply with a yes.

**

“Miss, I think you dropped your keys,” you hear someone call out. Ignoring it you pan around the somewhat busy street. Car horns are sirens are heard on the streets, wind howling between the buildings making the air crisp against your face. A hand gently touches your arm and you quickly spin around on your heels, wide eyed. “Sorry,” he chuckles seeing the shock on your face “I called out but I don’t think you heard me. Are these yours?”

He holds up a keychain in your view and you sigh slightly, “yes, thank you.”

When getting ready you decided to leave your purse at home, they aren’t the most convenient while walking a dog. You threw your debit card, TTC pass, phone and keys into your pocket. Arriving out front the coffee shop a couple minutes ago your hands were cold so you reached into your pocket for your gloves.

“No problem,” he smiles.

Scanning over his face you immediately notice his bright blue eyes grazing over your face. Thick flowing dark brown hair sticks out under his Montreal Canadians ball cap, a short scruffy beard on his chiseled jaw. He looks familiar but you can’t place it.

He is tall, similar in height to Auston and Fred. Even through his black peacoat you can tell his shoulders are just as wide. A red scarf gently popping out under the collar of his jacket. “I’m Josh,” he says, and you see him smile once again, instantly you think that it is just the best smile you have ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you smile back.

“Can I buy your coffee? “he asks glancing to the shop behind you. “I assume that’s why you’re here,” he chuckles. “It’s not free though, it’ll cost you a half hour of your time through the park.”

You chuckle slightly, if you weren’t supposed to meet Auston in a few minutes you would struggle to say no. His wide smile and soft eyes are drawing you in, but on top of that he seems nice. Someone you would actually have a good afternoon chatting with. “I’m actually meeting someone,” you reply.

“Oh that’s a shame, I’m leaving Toronto in a few hours. Think I can get your number; take you out when I come back?”

Before you can answer you feel Felix brush against your legs and let out an excited bark. He jumps up on you almost knocking you over and you immediately feel Auston’s hands on your hips and Josh grip your elbow, holding you upright. Auston mumbles some bullshit to Felix about manners, but you ignore it. Trying to focus on the eager pup, when in actuality you feel fire ignite where their hands connect to you.

“Hey man,” Josh says to Auston releasing your elbow.

“Hey Josh,” Auston says politely stepping beside you. You immediately sense the tension, Auston puffing his chest keeping on hand on the small of your back. Josh’s gaze flicks between you and Auston a little, realizing this is the person you are meeting but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. You take a harsh swallow, the cold Toronto air burning your throat.

Tick tock, tick tock.

You have no longer how long you all have been standing there, likely only a few seconds but time feels like it has stopped. The only sound besides passing cars is the excited whines and yelps Felix lets out while he circles around your feet. Shifting awkwardly you stare between the two men not wanting to be the first to make a move. Finally Auston clears his throat glaring at Josh, pulling you in tighter to his chest. So close you can smell his cologne.

“Well I’m going to grab my coffee. Nice meeting you y/n,” Josh smiles, stepping around you to go through the door.

“A Hab really?” Auston jokes kissing your cheek, following Josh with his eyes until the door shuts behind him. His lips are warm on your cool skin, eyes look slightly heavy from the previous night's game, and dark curls pop out under the toque he’s wearing that barely covers his ears.

“What?” you ask confused, bending down to pet Felix who is still enthralled by your presence.

“Josh,” he nods inside and you shake your head shooting him a puzzled look. “That’s Josh Anderson. He plays for the Montreal Canadians.”

“Oh that’s why he looked familiar,” you say glancing back inside briefly, you watched the game last night and you remember him. He looks a little different without the equipment or covered in sweat, but his thick hair and smile is what stood out to you. Felix takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek causing you to laugh and look back at Auston. “You watch him for a sec so I can get our drinks?” Auston asks, handing you the leash.

Josh comes out first saying goodbye to you and giving Felix a few pets before making his way down the street. Auston is out not too long after, 2 paper cups in hand. You try to hand the leash back, but he tells you to keep it, feeding you some line about Felix being happy to see you. You know Felix doesn’t care who holds his leash, he is just happy to be on a walk but you aren’t going to object.

It’s only been two days since you saw him. Fred watched him for the Leaf’s short road trip and you spent some time over there during it. While Fred went to physio you would take him on long walks, walks too long for Fred and his knee right now. Fred joked about how close you were thinking it’s the first time you met him.

You took naps on the couch and played with him. He followed you around everywhere, whining and clawing at the door when Fred locked him out for an hour. When you finally opened the door he almost tackled you with his excitement. That night when you went to go to bed he climbed between the two of you resting his head on your chest while you fell asleep, gently petting the top of his head. Every time you saw him Felix would be more excited than the last.

“Thought you Canadians are inferior to the cold,” Auston jokes when a strong wind gust blows from the lake and through the streets. Shivering you pulling your zipper up further, pulling your toque further down your ears.

“Lets go warm up, my place is only a couple blocks away,” he puts a hand on your back to guide you. It’s the smallest contact, a slight brush against your back before his hand falls into his pocket for warmth. But through your jacket and sweater your skin burns from the ever so slight touch.

Stepping into the lobby you instantly feel the warmth of his building hit your face. “You had a good game last night,” you smile knowing he can’t see it through your mask.

“Woah you actually watched,” he teases, pulling his mask over his face.

“Yeah, you know hanging around hockey players all the time figured I should watch a game or two,” you joke. “You know with not teaching I have some spare time.”

“I’m glad you find time in your busy schedule to watch me on TV.” You give him a playful nudge hitting the button for the elevator. “How is it going with work? Find anything yet?” he asks, bending down to give Felix some pets for patiently waiting.

“No, all schools in Ontario go 100% online Monday so there are a lot of us in the same situation right now across the province. I’m sure something will come along I’m not too worried right now.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure something out,” he says looking up at you. His black mask is covering half of his face, but from the creases beside his eyes you can tell he is smiling at you. Before you can reply you hear the doors creak open and turn your attention to it.

You notice a body in the elevator who shifts into the corner to make space. Taking a step in you are met by a tall man with broad shoulders, hood of his Nike sweater pulled over his red hair, mask covering half of his face. But you immediately recognize the eyes, stopping you in your tracks.

Auston walks into your back not realizing you stopped and Felix jumps up at his feet. Fred stares at the two of you for a second with a look of confusion, blinking a few times. Like he doesn’t believe it’s actually you behind the mask; but his eyes soften and he turns his attention to the eager pup. You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting between Auston and Fred. Auston looks unphazed a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“What’s going on?” Fred asks standing up, still petting Felix’s head.

“Just grabbed some coffee,” you say quietly.

“Yeah just hanging out,” Auston adds in. “What about you?”

“Just getting home from the rink, was gonna see if you wanted to hangout.”

Auston glances over at you briefly before back to his friend, “yeah for sure man,” Auston replies. Stepping off the elevator on Auston’s floor the three of you head towards his apartment. The two of them chat about something from the game last night, almost oblivious to the fact you are there while you trail a few steps back.

Once inside Auston takes of Felix’s leash and wanders to the kitchen to get him some fresh water. Fred lingers once his shoes are off watching you remove your jacket and boots. Once you hang up your coat Fred’s hands are on your hip backing you against the door, handle digging into your back, “you two having fun.”

His words hang thick in the air, stepping closer he pushes you in further, his breath hot on your neck. When you don’t reply he squeezes your hips, driving the handle further into your back causing you to hiss out a yes. His musty cologne and hot breath has moisture pooling between your legs, the only thing holding you up is his nails digging into your skin.

“Hmm,” he hums as you take a few uneasy breaths. “How long has this been going on smuk,” he places soft open mouth kisses on your neck waiting for you to reply.

“Uh...” you stutter, voice catching in your throat when he nips your skin. “Just the,” you mumble groaning, “one other time

“Cute,” he mumbles placing a kiss to your cheek, the edge of his lips brushing the corner of yours. Pulling back slightly he smirks at you and turns his gaze down the hall, smugness plastered on his face while he locks eyes with Auston who silently watches the exchange.

Your chest heaves and you swallow dryly taking a minute. Without another word he leaves you trying to catch your breath while he walks down the hall. Craning your head slightly you see Auston at the other end watching the entire interaction. Expressionless he follows Fred to the couch, as you try to compose yourself.

You don’t know why but you contemplate walking down the hall and saying you aren’t feeling well and heading home. But that seems obvious. And Fred didn’t seem mad did he?

The three of you sit on the couch, Felix circling, constantly bringing someone a toy or whining for pets. It’s a lazy afternoon and easy, the boys watching some golf tournament that you have no interest in. Fred mindlessly runs circles over your ankle while they chat, your head resting on his pillow.

His touch is soft but soothing. Every circle he draws you feel your blood pressure drop before you finally are at ease. Fred is smiling, Auston laughs at something he said. Everything seems fine, like you worked yourself up over nothing.

“So y/n has the hots for Josh Anderson,” Auston says part way through golf which immediately catches your attention, turning your gaze from Felix to the boys. Auston has a smug look plastered on his face while he winks at you, and Fred has a dark mischievous grin.

“Oh yeah,” Fred grins as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Apparently we aren’t doing a good enough job,” Auston grins and your eyes go wide. You hear Fred laugh lightly squeezing your ankle tightly.

“Never said that,” you whisper, so faintly you aren’t even sure you spoke. Fred’s hand on your ankle tightens and he pulls you so you’re back is flat to the couch. Quickly his body is on yours, pinning your wrists to the couch at your side.

“Is that true baby? Are me and Auston not satisfying you? Not fulfilling your needs?” he murmurs eyes locked down at you. His chest presses into you, the air around you shifting. You try to swallow, but your throat is dry being starved of saliva.

“Pretty sure he asked you a question princess.” You didn’t even notice but Auston moved across the room, his mouth is millimeters from your ear.

Tilting your head slightly, you feel a hand on your jaw holding you in place, forcing your gaze up to Fred. You aren’t even sure whose hand it is until you feel the leather bracelet brush your neck and immediately know its Auston.

“What do you say man, should we take her to your room? Show her how good she has it,” Fred doesn’t pull his eyes away, while his comments are fully directed at Auston. Another display of his dominance over you making the slick between your legs build even more. “Make her regret even mentioning thinking of him”

You practically can hear the smugness oozing off the man beside you, only answering a quick but firm, “yes.”

Fred’s body is off yours as fast as he was on you. In an instant he easily throws you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to Auston’s room. Once back on your feet they begin to remove your clothing. Fred on your right, Auston on your left, both sucking on your neck working in unison; articles of clothing littering his bedroom floor, leaving you in just your matching underwear. If it wasn’t for the two hot bodies pressed against you goosebumps would be popping all over your body.

Auston unclasps your bra, sliding his tongue along your collarbone. Fred sucks on your neck when you hear fabric ripping, your underwear being torn off of you. Fred smirks against you, knowing you have been on them for all the shredded underwear they have left you with over the last three months, but neither seems to care.

Auston’s hand makes work of your breast, massaging and pinching the nipple. Gently rolling it through his thumb and index finger while Fred manipulates your legs apart, thrusting two thick digits inside of your folds. The unexpected nature causes you to whine while both men chuckle against you.

“Most women would be happy to have one man and you have two” Auston murmurs.

“Let’s make sure she never thinks about him again,” Fred sneers. Your head falls back and you begin to moan louder, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of you. Auston’s other hand roams your back, sliding down to your ass, giving you firm squeezes to roll your hips forward further onto Fred’s digits.

If it wasn’t for both men on either side practically supporting your entire body weight, your knees would buckle. Fred pulls away slightly to get a better look at you, to watch you fall apart over his fingers. Your gaze meets his and his pupils are dilated, black with lust.

Increasing his fingers, thumb finding your clit you know you won’t last much longer. Incoherent thoughts are all you can manage, whimpers and curse words falling from your lips.

“Hear how wet you are princess?” Auston’s mouth is pressed against your ear. One hand cupping your breast his other firmly squeezing your ass. “Freddie’s hand is coated because of you,” he mumbles, you head a chuckle from the man on your right.

“This is nothing,” Fred asserts, but before you can process the weight of his words your orgasm crashes over you. Knees trembling, walls fluttering; blood pulsates through your body causing you to groan loudly.

As soon as you come down the boys release you and you almost fall over. Walking like a newborn deer on ice, you make your way to the bed while both men quickly strip. There must have been a silent exchange because Auston is quickly sitting in the middle of the mattress pulling you towards him.

Your back is to his chest and you can feel his hard erection pressed into your back as he brushes your hair aside exposing one side of his neck for him. “How many do you think it’ll take princess?” he hums his voice soft in your ear. “How many until you can’t even remember Josh’s name anymore?”

His words go right to your core, vibrating through your folds. Your chest heaves and your body shudders thinking of his statement. You know the question is rhetorical, but even if you had a number it wouldn’t be enough.

Fred stands at the end of the bed, eyes switching between yours and the slick dripping between your legs. Every time his eyes drop they stay a little longer, licking his lips at the sight. You begin to feel like a piece of meat and both men have been starved of food for weeks. You move your legs to close them, but Auston’s hands quickly grip your thighs holding you open for him.

Fred shakes his head while Auston rasps, “you know better than that princess,” in your ear; digging his thumbs into your flesh. Your entire body shivers and you take an uneasy exhale, knowing you are in for it. Quickly Fred crawls onto the bed, making his way towards your heat while someone, you aren’t sure who, bends your knees. Fred places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh and knee. The thought of what he will do has you dizzy. Flattening his tongue he licks up the mess from before, your entire body jolts but Auston firmly grips your legs open holding you is place.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles as Fred laps up all your juices. A few more licks and Fred thick fingers find your heat, curling back inside you “taste so good hun” he adds.

Throwing your head back against Auston’s shoulder you groan “fuck,” but all it does is give him a better view.

“Look at you taking Fred’s fingers,” Auston hums as you feel Fred’s mouth attach to your clit. Auston’s voice is hot and heavy, Fred’s fingers hitting your g-spot with every thrust and soon your second orgasm is building deep inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss while Fred’s tongue circles your clit, swirling in a figure eight on a continuous loop.

“You gonna cum again princess,” Auston says in your ear. “Coat his face?”

Incoherent sounds fall from both sets of your lips. You’re so wet that the obscene sound of his fingers fucking in and out of you makes your entire body heat up. Between both of their sinful mouths, Fred’s attached to your cunt and Auston’s whispering a string of filth on your ear, you are right back on the edge. Your heels dig into the mattress and it’s only a matter of time. Auston’s mouth purring in your ear, Fred’s tongue carefully circling your clit is more than you can take.

Your second orgasm rolls through you, little fires exploding in your hear. Fred slows slightly to draw it out while Auston holds you firm against his chest and you tremble in his embrace. His dick twitches against your back watching as white spills out. You sag against Auston’s chest, body tingling as your juices coat Fred’s face.

Pulling away from your heat your fog begins to settle. Fred has a dark smile, his beard coated in your slick heat. “What do you think does she need one more? Or should we fuck her ‘til she can’t walk anymore?” Fred says to Auston.

“She definitely needs one more,” Auston replies, hands digging harshly into your thighs keeping them spread apart.

“Ungh,” is all you can whimper in response, closing your eyes to take a few uneasy breaths while your legs relax, falling back to the mattress.

There must have been an exchange between the two or maybe you are still coming down from your high and don’t hear the question, but you do hear Auston say, “all you man I’m really enjoying the view.”

A hand is on your throat pulling your face away from Auston’s shoulder. Next a pair of lips are on yours, in a hot and hungry way. Immediately you know it’s Fred; not from the facial hair but the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Fingers are thrust back inside you, but your groans are swallowed by Fred’s mouth. Auston throws his calves over your shins, keeping you spread for his friend while his hands trail up your body. One finds your breast, the other finding your clit, thumb concentrating on pressing harsh circles into it.

Your pussy quivers at the contact it all becoming a lot. It’s almost too much. And then you feel Auston’s mouth on your neck and you know its game over. Being sandwiched between these men, fingers and tongues all over your skin has you pulling away from Fred for some much needed air.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, beads of sweat are rolling down the valley of your breasts. Your scream gets ripped from your throat and your vision goes white, wave after wave of euphoria rolling through you. Both men groan as your warmth spills around Fred’s wrist and onto the bed.

“God you are so beautiful when you cum,” Auston groans in your ear.

“Bet Josh would never make you feel like that,” Fred mumbles, finally pulling his fingers from you. Grabbing your jaw he forces your mouth open, shoving his fingers inside for you to lick clean. You have barely caught your breath and almost choke, but quickly work to clean your slick from his finger.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he purrs. Pulling away he lands beside you on the mattress, Auston quickly crawls out from behind. Falling backwards landing on the mattress, Fred brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead mumbling something to you in Danish.

Before you can react Auston in between your legs, hands on the back of your ankles pulling you closer, his throbbing tip pressing against your entrance “Remember the word,” Fred asks.

“Yeah,” you barely manage to say, throat incredibly dry.

“What is it,” Auston asks, waiting to continue.

“Yellow,” you manage to whisper through some uneasy breaths.

“You okay,” Auston asks, and you turn your head to stare up at him with a nod, tears resting in the edge of your eyes.

“You have to say it,” Fred says softly.

“M’okay” you say smiling at the softness of the two men, no matter how dominant or aggressive they are they always make you’re okay.

With that Auston thrusts inside your walls, Fred’s handiwork providing an easy lubrication so he gives you no time to adjust. Snapping his hips he sets a fast pace eyes dark and staring between your legs, watching his thick cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt. Pulling your bottom lip through your teeth you whimper, warm tears now rolling down your cheek.

“Just be thankful he is letting you off easy by being on top,” Fred winks rolling onto his side gently pressing his lips into your shoulder.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he snaps his hip, “figured she could use a minute,” he grunts. “But only a minute,” his hands are on your hips and he forcefully pulls you back increasing his pace causing you to cry out.

“Y/N,” Auston calls forcing you to whine as your head turns. “I think you should say thank you to Fred for taking such good care of you earlier,” he nods down to Fred’s hard member resting beside your hand. You honestly don’t think you could do much even if you tried, but when you slowly turn to meet Fred’s gaze he smiles at you.

“It would be nice if you said thank you skat,” Fred mumbles, sucking on your sweet spot beside your ear. Reaching out you wrap your hand around his length giving him a few slow tugs.

“Faster baby,” Fred mumbles, his words vibrating through your body. You try to set a fast pace, but Auston quickly has you distracted. Every thrust is hard and deep, brushing your g-spot before he pulls back. He knows exactly what he wants, each thrust calculated as he drags his cock along your walls. Every time he pounds into you your hand stutters around Fred’s length, but he’s loving it, smirking against your neck.

Each time Auston hits your g-spot you squirm and he is getting off on it. His eyes getting darker and darker, a grin tugging on his lips a little more each time. Fred continues to pepper your collar bone with kisses before working his way down your chest and back up again. His mouth is everywhere when his thumb attaches to your clit.

“Fuck Fred,” you jolt from the contact.

“Pretty sure it’s Auston making you feel this good,” Fred mumbles in your ear. “He’s the one with his dick buried inside you right now.”

Every statement is accompanied by harder faster circles on your bundle of nerves. Nails gripping your hips harder, cock sliding in and out faster. “He feel good baby?” Fred hums. “He feel good stretching you out? You’re taking him so well, you gonna cum all over his cock?”

“Fuck she’s close,” Auston announces as if you and Fred didn’t know. Releasing your hand from Fred’s cock you feel your body erupt around Auston’s dick.

If you thought the first three were intense, the fourth is pure fireworks. Every extremity is tingling and you feel lightning bolts erupt inside. Your walls flutter and both men groan as you disintegrate under Auston, melting into the bed. Neither man stops and soon you are met by Auston’s sticky warmth flooding your walls. He grunts and slows his hips, a few shallow thrusts and he spills everything he has inside you.

Fred pops his head up and looks towards your cunt, watching his friend coat your insides white. Momentary confusion crosses his face before turning back to you. Apart from the first time which Auston didn’t mean to, he has never once spent inside of you. Always spilling on your ass, tits or sometimes thrusting his cock inside your mouth so you can swallow it down. He doesn’t know when you and Auston fucked last week you told him can doesn’t need to pull out. He doesn’t know how every time over the past three months you have a moment of disappointed when Auston pulls out of you. How you are excited for your pussy to overflow with a mixture of both men’s cum.

Auston pulls out and falls beside you and Fred’s face softens. He smiles at you, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lip as he takes in your face. Absolutely fucked out and flush, hair a mess, splayed across the bed, makeup likely smeared down your cheek. Licking your lips you pull Fred’s face down for a searing earth shattering kiss.

Your hand tangles into his roots, his thumb drawing circles just below your ribcage. Tongue sliding into the others mouth and you tug harder trying to pull him on top of you but he doesn’t budge. Instead he falls onto his back pulling you on top of him.

“We all can’t go easy on you,” Fred winks while adjusting you over him. A mixture of sticky white fluids spill out and onto Fred while he lines himself up.

“Got one more in ya princess? You gonna cum for Freddie like you did me?” Auston asks and you shake your head, body barely functioning at this point.

“Oh baby we all know you do”

“Umph,” you mewl as he easily pulls you down, Auston’s cum spilling out around his girth.

Your hand quickly lands on Fred’s stomach, his abs covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your breath hitches when he bucks his hips while you try and take a minute, slowly grinding your hips, trying to compose yourself as best you can.

“Cocks not gonna ride itself,” Auston chortles from beside you.

Your eyes go wide and Fred smirks, shooting you a wink, you start rising and dropping around him, Fred bucking his hips to press deep inside you. Feeling his tip almost in your belly a slew of curse words fall from your lips. With every thrust you can feel more of Auston’s cum spilling out. A part of you thinks Fred thrusts up and pulls your hips down so harshly to fuck it out of you, but either way you are heading back towards the edge.

“That’s right take me deep baby,” Fred praises his back arching off the bed slightly.

You can tell he is enjoying watching you squirm above him. Your overly sensitive cunt barely able to take any more. Luckily the time you spent with your hand wrapped around him earlier means his high is close too.

“You’re taking me so well, baby girl,” Fred praises.

“You gonna cum for him like you did for your me, huh? Milk his cock for all it’s worth?” Auston asks, drawing your gaze to his dark brown orbs. You had almost forgot Auston was there, you are barely able to focus on Fred the pound driving up into your cervix let alone the man beside you catching his breath.

“Mmgh, I don’t… I don’t think I can,” you keen helplessly into thin air.

“Yeah you can, princess,” Auston urges gently.

Auston sits up pinching your nipple and you hiss from the friction his hand is causing, mouth grazes along your throat, his mustache brushing it ever so slightly. You don’t need him, Fred’s cock driving into your throbbing pussy with every thrust. Fred will get you there, but Auston’s mouth on your neck, hand on your nipple sends you catapulting over the edge.

Fred’s hands dig into your hips and Auston’s arm catch your body as you tremble above his friend. Auston spews filth in your ear, Fred mumbling Danish praise below you, but you hear none of it. Vision whiting out, ears filled with a high pitch ring as Fred fucks you through your high. Wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelms your body, Fred gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before painting your walls white. The two men support you while Auston slowly lowers you onto Fred’s chest while you catch your breath.

Auston leans on his elbow beside you, brushing your hair drenched with sweat from your forehead. Both you and Fred are breathless, clammy with sweat as his dick softens inside of you.

“So you learn to keep other guy’s names out of your mouth,” Auston sneers .

“I was obviously joking,” you groan while Fred brings a hand up to lightly draw on your back.

“Wasn’t very funny,” Fred adds.

“One Andersen is more than enough,” you try to push off of Fred put he tightens his grip wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you back down to his chest.

You hear Auston’s feet on the wood floor, and he returns a minute later with some water and a damp wash cloth. Fred gingerly lifts your body, sliding his cock out as some cum spills out. Once off him, Auston hands you the glass and Fred the towel who gently wipes between your legs while you whimper from the contact.

Auston having found some boxers, pulls a t-shirt over your head and pulls you back into the bed with him. Lying on your side you curl into his arm, using his tattooed bicep as a pillow, your hand lying on his chest. Fred crawls in behind you, hand on your hip, warm breath on your neck.

You hear the click clacking of Felix’s nails on the wood floor as he gets closer. The bedroom door finally open, he lets himself in jumping onto the bed and curling up between your legs and Auston as you all quickly fall asleep.

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Sometimes your best friend calls you at 3 am because his citizenship isn’t valid anymore, his marriage not legally acknowledged, and he kind of needs to marry you so he isn’t kicked out of the country. A comedy of errors in which Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padmé don't take the long road to becoming a family, but certainly the most complicated one. Marriage of convenience, ObiAniDala style.

Read on AO3!

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

- Bruno Mars, Marry You

There were many things Obi-Wan didn’t expect at 3 am, such as somebody breaking into his house, which was possible but unlikely, or the apocalypse finally starting, which was impossible and unlikely. Mostly, he didn’t expect anything because he had grown out of his wild university student years and went to bed at reasonable hours so he was fast asleep at 3 am.

However, panicked calls from Anakin Skywalker were kind of normal.

Not that they should be, but they happened much more frequently than Obi-Wan cared to admit. Whether Anakin was fifteen or twenty-five, nothing much had changed in that time, not even the ringtone of Obi-Wan’s phone for him, only its model.

Tiredly, Obi-Wan reached for his phone in the dark, finding it somewhere on his night table.

“Hello?” he muttered into the speaker, not quite coherent yet.

“Obi-Wan!”

At the sound of Anakin’s panicked voice, Obi-Wan immediately sat up, all exhaustion forgotten. Over the years, the kind of tone Anakin’s voice reached when he was alarmed, had become an immediate trigger for Obi-Wan, forcing him to operate as if he were ready to give a three-hour lecture on the integration of the sonnet into English poetry.

“Anakin, is everything alright?” he asked, unnecessarily, as Anakin immediately began babbling over Obi-Wan.

“Can you come over, right now, we need your help.”

It took Obi-Wan barely a split second to register what exactly Anakin was asking. He glanced at the clock – it was the middle of the night. What could have happened- He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Are the twins alright?”

The only thing Obi-Wan could think of was that something had happened to the twins. The six-months-olds had had quite the ordeal behind them already. They had been born too early and Padmé, already weakened by the difficult pregnancy, had struggled during the birth. There had been too many complications and Obi-Wan still remembered that horrendous night, the long hours sitting next to Anakin in the waiting room, not knowing what was happening to Padmé.

And afterwards, he had spent quite a few nights over at their cramped home – meant for two adults, not two adults and two babies – helping them out. Padmé had rested and recovered while Anakin had cared for the children and her, and Obi-Wan had just made sure that everything in-between had run smoothly. Anakin and Padmé both had thanked him countless times already, but Obi-Wan didn’t know what for. They were his best friends, he was the twins’ godfather. If he didn’t come to help them, what kind of friend was he?

“No, the twins are alright,” Anakin reassured him immediately, though his voice didn’t lose any of its panic. “I just- I need to marry you. Kind of right now immediately, preferably before the weekend is over.”

“What.” Obi-Wan thought he had misheard. “Anakin, what are you talking about?”

“Can you just-“

Anakin’s voice faded from the speaker. Obi-Wan could hear some bickering, then a new person spoke. Padmé’s voice was lighter, higher than usual as well, but not quite as panicked as Anakin’s.

“Hello, Obi-Wan. Sorry for disturbing you at this hour but we have a problem. Could you be so kind and come over?”

“…Sure,” Obi-Wan replied after a pause. “Could you just give me ten minutes to get dressed?”

“You have still got some of your clothes here,” Anakin‘s voice rang out again, before he suddenly yelped and hissed, muttering something about sharp elbows. “Just- hurry, please.”

X

And so it came to be that Obi-Wan, dressed because he was not a heathen and it was chilly at night still, walked out of his house at three in the morning, and jumped into his car to drive downtown to the little apartment near the university campus that Anakin and Padmé shared. They had been meaning to move out since before they had even learned Padmé was expecting, but they hadn’t had the funds at first and then the time and now they were still living there. They were planning to move once the twins were a little older and easier to handle, but Obi-Wan already foresaw that this wouldn’t be any easier for them.

When he pulled into their street, Anakin was already standing in front of their house, dressed in an oversized hoodie and long, dark pants that were much too warm for this weather. The desert kid in Anakin would always make him freeze at all times. Summertime was alright, but during winter Anakin was always the first to get sick and cold and be absolutely miserable all around. He then always took great pleasure in sticking his hands and feet beneath the next warm willing body. Or unwilling if Anakin was sure you loved him enough to let him put his freezing hands on you.

Obi-Wan parked his car and was not even halfway out it when Anakin grabbed his hands and pretty much dragged him inside and then up through the staircase to his apartment. He didn’t say a word as he opened up the door, but his expression was concerning enough.

The apartment was slightly messier than when Obi-Wan had last seen it, clothes, photos, and documents alike flying around everywhere.

“So,” Obi-Wan asked as he looked around. “What is going on?”

Anakin opened his mouth, ready to let it all fall from his lips, but then shut his mouth and shook his head so that instead of replying, he was pushing Obi-Wan into his and Padmé’s bedroom. The bedroom was the biggest room in their small apartment. Their living room also doubled as offices and the kitchen was just cramped enough that it was full when you stood there with two people, doing absolutely nothing. In comparison to that, the bedroom was giant, even if it didn’t look like it with the wardrobe, bed, and the twins’ crib in it.

The babies were sleeping soundly in their crib while Padmé was sitting upright on the bed, her laptop in front of her, and another stack of documents lying around her.

“Good morning, Padmé” Obi-Wan greeted her.

She just smiled tiredly at him and waved.

“Morning, Obi-Wan, and sorry for all of this.” She gestured towards the documents and then at Anakin, who had already dropped on the bed, his head now resting on Padmé’s lap.

“Nothing I’m not already used to,” Obi-Wan replied, kicked off his shoes, and sat down next to Anakin’s legs. The first couple of times he had been around, he had been uncomfortable claiming a spot here, but he had long since gotten used to it.

“So,” he repeated his earlier question. “What is going on and why do I need to marry Anakin?”

“We have run into a major problem,” Pamdé said. “We got mail this morning. Yesterday morning.”

She paused and glanced at the watch on her wrist before sighing and handing Obi-Wan one of the papers he accepted quickly. “Anyway, we got mail from the state saying that Anakin has to leave the country next week or face legal consequences.”

“What?” Obi-Wan replied. “Wait, how can that be?”

He glanced down at the letter Padmé had given him, and true enough, it was an official one.

Obi-Wan was well aware that Anakin’s citizenship hadn’t always been in the clear. His mother had been brought to this country as a worker with no documents or even the right to decide what to do with herself. Anakin’s documents had been equally shady right up until Obi-Wan’s father had cleared them up. It was how they had met – Qui-Gon Jinn introducing little Anakin Skywalker and his mother, the latest cases of immigrants his law firm was helping, to Obi-Wan. The then 9-year-old Anakin had latched onto Obi-Wan pretty quickly. They had been friends ever since and gone through thick and thin together and some not so pretty years as well.

But all in all, Anakin shouldn’t have any trouble with his citizenship, especially not now. And if Anakin had trouble, Shmi would certainly as well.

“I don’t know!” Anakin said and threw up his hands. “We already called the residents’ registration office but they said that due to some-” He waved his hands, replacing the legal jargon with gestures. “-they don’t count anymore because they were bound to some temporary stay. I have no idea.”

Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair. He knew some of the goings-on tied to immigration laws due to his father, but not all of them. However, he was still sure that whatever was going on here, it wasn’t correct.

“Okay, but we can get those renewed. It’s terrible right now, but we can file in a complaint and fight the order. It might take a few months, but I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Anakin only shook his head. “I don’t have a few months. It’s out now or fines or prison or something and we don’t exactly got the money.”

“But you’re married?” Obi-Wan frowned and looked at Padmé whose face had twisted into something dark and angry like he’d never seen before.

“That’s the second thing we’re wondering about. Our marriage, apparently, is not legally binding. And they just discovered it. Again, it’s something about my citizenship and the fact that we didn’t marry here but in Naboo. It’s freaking ridiculous but whenever we ask or try to inquire what we can do, I get told to go back to where I came from like I ever actually came from anywhere on Tatooine!”

Anakin’s voice got a little louder and they froze when suddenly a quiet whine rang out in the room. Simultaneously, the three of them turned to look at the crib.

“Oh, no, no, no-“ Anakin muttered and moved to get up, but Obi-Wan was quicker and closer.

“I’ll get them,” he said and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Obi-Wan stood up and walked over to the crib, picking up Leia first who stared up at him with her brown eyes. Their newborn blue coloring had darkened after only a couple weeks already, but Luke’s were still as blue as Anakin’s.

“Hey, little lady,” Obi-Wan whispered, holding Leia close before he gave her to Padmé. Then, turning around, saw that Luke was watching him as well.

“You too, darling?” He asked and took him into his arms before sitting down on the bed again, careful so that he wasn’t shaking Luke awake. With both children settled into Padmé and Obi-Wan’s arms, Anakin continued.

“So, the bottom line is, I don’t have anything that says I’m a Coruscant citizen or married to Padmé so the only thing we could think of was that I get married to somebody who has citizenship and therefor get to stay here like that until we figure out what’s actually going on.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry to spring this on you like this but we are kind of desperate here. And if I don’t have citizenship and something happens to Padmé, the twins-“

Anakin doesn’t even have to say it out loud. Obi-Wan would know exactly where the twins would go.

“This is horrible,” he said. “And truly nothing else has worked out? Have you called any lawyers?”

“About a hundred,” Padmé sighed. “None of them can help and we couldn’t reach your father either.”

Right, Qui-Gon was on a humanitarian trip on… Obi-Wan didn’t even know. He hadn’t spoken to his father in a while, not since their last big fight. He really hadn’t been in the mood to put up with him.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said, letting the thought take shape in his mind. “So, marriage?”

“Just for a short while,” Padmé reassured him. “It doesn’t have to be for long, only until we can get this sorted out again and then you can get divorced and we’ll bake you another cake as a thank you. We are really sorry about this and I know it sounds stupid but-“

“Hey, none of this is your fault,” Obi-Wan replied and with his one free arm, gently squeezed Padmé’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, marrying Anakin isn’t the worst thing I have done out of the blue.”

Anakin only eyed him suspiciously and Obi-Wan couldn’t help grinning. Anakin knew some of the really dumb things Obi-Wan had gotten into, but not all of them.

“How is this not the worst you have ever done,” Anakin echoed. “You’re marrying me so I can stay in the country.”

Obi-Wan could think of plenty of other things and was suddenly, for once, very happy he could use Anakin’s obliviousness to cheer him up.

“You don’t know what Quinlan and I got up to in our youth.”

“The more you mention it, the more do I think that I really don’t want to know it either,” Anakin muttered, shaking his head. Then he took a deep breath, eyes closed. A moment passed and only then he continued speaking. “But- you’ll do it-?”

“Of course, Anakin. You’re my best friend. How could I not help you out?” Obi-Wan watched the baby sleeping soundly in his arms, entirely unaware of the troubles his parents were in. They had gone through enough chaos in the last year, the least he could do was help them out. “When do you need to get married?”

“Tomorrow morning. Or today. At least if we want the paperwork to go through smoothly and quickly enough.” Anakin looked at Padmé who nodded in confirmation.

“And we’ll need somebody to marry us- Oh, hell, where will we even get somebody to marry us on such short notice?”

It was late spring, the season most couples decided to get married. The offices would be full and getting somebody who could marry them even just today-

Obi-Wan blinked.

“Quinlan is ordained.”

“What?”

Padmé and Anakin stared at him with deadpan expressions. Obi-Wan supposed this would make more sense to them if the two had spent more time around Quinlan than just a couple hours whenever their paths crossed at Obi-Wan’s birthday parties. His childhood friend was a wild spirit and Obi-Wan still wasn’t exactly sure what his job was, he seemed to change it every month. He did, however, have an amazing repertoire of skills and being ordained was just amongst them. He had married Luminara and Shaak Ti a couple of years back.

“I can call him,” Obi-Wan offered.

“Right now?” Padmé raised her brow. “Don’t you think he’ll be mad?”

“He’s used to such things,” Obi-Wan replied. “Kind of the same way I’m used to getting called from you at 3 in the morning, Anakin.”

Anakin had the decency to smile sheepishly.

“Are you sure?” Padmé continued. “This can wait until morning-“

“Except that it really can’t,” Obi-Wan interrupted her softöy. “Not if we want to make sure this is airtight.”

With some trouble as he was still holding Luke, Obi-Wan fished his phone out of his pants’ pocket and searched for Quinlan’s contact. Once he found it, he dialed the newest phone number he had, hoping it was still the correct one. It rang a couple of times before the other accepted the call and Obi-Wan put him on speaker.

“Obi-Wan!” Quinlan shouted, slightly slurring Obi-Wan’s name. “My man! What’s going on?” In the background, Obi-Wan could hear loud music. Quinlan must be out partying then. Obi-Wan hadn’t even known that there were clubs that were open on a Wednesday night at this hour still. But then again, their city had a very large university district.

“Quinlan, are you still ordained?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Am I still my main? Main what? Video game character?”

“Ordained,” Obi-wan repeated patiently. “Can you marry people?”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Just got my license renewed last week. Who needs to get married?”

“Me,” Obi-Wan said. “And Anakin Skywalker? Tall, blond, blue eyes, math genius-“

“I know your other half, Obi-Wan, honestly. And holy, shit, you’re finally marrying him?”

Obi-Wan paused to look up from his phone into the faces of Padmé and Anakin who looked just as confused as him.

“What do you mean finally-“ Obi-Wan stopped. Honestly, it didn’t matter. “Yes, sure. We need to get married tomorrow morning. Well, today actually. Is that possible?”

“Sure, I just need to get some documents from the department and it’ll be done. I need your ID and that’s about it. Any preferences for a location? There is this super neat gazebo in the main park. It’s a little out of the way so there are no people, would be great for wedding phots- holy fuck, does your father even know? Or is he still stuck in... where is he again?”

“Does it matter?” Obi-Wan replied. “Look, I just need to get married as soon as possible.”

“Okidoki, I’ll come to your house then? Or to that park?”

“We’ll l meet you at the park,” Anakin spoke up.

“Oh! Hey Anakin! You here as well?”

Padmé raised her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter, but Obi-Wan doubted it mattered. Quinlan probably wouldn’t even hear it over all that background noise.

“Obi-Wan, put you on speaker,” Anakin said meanwhile.

“Cool, cool, see you tomorrow morning then at... what time?”

The earlier they got it done, the better, Obi-Wan figured. “What time are you up again?”

“Club closes at five, so, we can do this at six? No, wait. Eight. I need the documents.”

“Eight it is then,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Good night, Quinlan, have fun and see you then.”

“Bye-bye!”

Obi-Wan ended the call and stared at his phone just a moment longer. This had not gone as he had expected, somewhere in the back of his mind he thought it should be more difficult to get married, and yet, somehow, it apparently was all working out correctly.

“So, that’s it?” Anakin asked shakily.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered. “That’s it.”

He thought he should feel weird about it, he had never considered marriage before in any capacity, but instead, all Obi-Wan could feel was relief.

“Oh, thank the heavens,” Anakin muttered and then pretty much threw himself at Obi-Wan as carefully as he could without waking Luke in the process. He wrapped obi-wan in a tight hug, the kind where he buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and didn’t let go for a while. “Just, thank you so much.”

“No problem, Anakin. Anything for you, dear one.”

“No, really,” Padmé said. “We can’t thank you enough. You have been helping out with the twins and now this and- we can never make this up to you.”

“I’d never ask you to make it up to me because you don’t have to.” Trying to ease the tension of this situation somewhat, Obi-wan smiled softly. “I’ll be content with some more cake. You’re mother’s recipe?”

Anakin laughed, still a little shaky, but he didn’t look like hell anymore at least.

“That one? Sure, I can make that,” Anakin answered. “It’ll be our wedding cake then. Then I’ll have eaten it twice at my own wedding already. Not that it’s a lot, but it’s still kind of weird to have done it twice.”

He then carefully took Luke from Obi-Wan’s arms and then lied down on the bed again, the baby still asleep on his chest. “I think I’ll stay just like this until this is over.”

“Maybe get some proper sleep instead?” Obi-suggested. “You need some rest after this stress.. both of you,” he added, pointedly looking at Padmé.

“We’ll be fine, we always are,” she said. “And you should get some sleep as well.”

Obi-Wan stood up and stretched. “I will, I’m already missing my bed.”

His two friends immediately frowned at him, their expressions easily telling Obi-Wan that they were not agreeing with the decision he had reached just now.

“You’re not driving home now, it’s bad enough we made you come here at this hour,” Padmé insisted. “Besides bed is big enough, you can sleep here with us.”

“I don’t want to impose-“

“You’re not imposing.”

“The sofa then-“

“Obi-wan,” Anakin inserted. “Don’t make me tie you to the bed again.”

Padmé looked at them both, then began to grin. “Honestly, your conversations are a delight to listen to out of context. But really, Obi-Wan, our sofa sucks. You know our sofa sucks. We’ll just put the twins to sleep again in the crib and you can fit in here.”

Obi-Wan thought about complaining for another second, but he’d only lie to himself. He didn’t want to drive home now. He was incredibly tired and the risk of falling asleep while driving now that all the adrenaline had left him was not as low as it should be.

“Fine,” he finally admitted defeat.

And then, as before, he took Luke from Anakin’s arms and put him back in his crib, then he took Leia from Pamdé’s arms and set her down next to her brother. The twins looked absolutely adorable and already much bigger than they had when they had come from the hospital. Seeing them grow up healthy was a greater comfort than anything else.

Obi-Wan then stepped out of his pants, contemplating keeping on his socks in case Anakin decided his feet were cold and took them off anyway, and kept his shirt. Obi-Wan walked away from the crib towards the light switch and turned it, drowning the room in pitch black. He stumbled across the ground towards the bed and crawled under the banket. It was, as expected, heavier and warmer than anything he would sleep in.

He laid down on the left side of the bed, his back to Anakin, who took great pleasure in immediately tangling his legs with Obi-Wan’s while wrapping his arms around Padmé.

“Good night,” he said and yawned.

“Good night,” the couple replied.

And the three of them fell into a sleep next to one another.

[joon-ipersgirl]

“inked heart” - jjk oneshot

genre: friends to lovers!au, fluff, a teensy dash of angst

pairing: tattoo artist!guk x tattoo artist!reader (f)

summary: jeon jungkook, a rising star in the tattoing world, is looking to take home best large black and white piece at the 25th annual milano tattoo convention. already one to watch from his previous wins as a young artist, pressures rise when his model for the competition cancels half an hour before the show. 

always there when he needs you, you offer to be his model but jungkook is reluctant, especially when the piece is in a more... intimate place. and the fact that he’s been in love with you for the better part of two years. jungkook isn’t too sure how he’s going to survive the next three hours, not when you ask him if he thinks you’re attractive. 

caught between a rock and a hard place, does he lie to you and himself when the prize is on the line? it’s go big or go home...

word count: 5.9k

warnings: some guk pining, cursing, mentions of heartbreaker jimin, the smallest dash of angst about not winning, tattoo artist yoongi

a/n: my first guk piece! thank you guys so much for the love on the preview, especially your comments. they honestly make my day. i hope this lives up to your expectations and you enjoy it just as much. this was a random idea i had and i love tattooed guk so here we are. i tried my best to make sure all the tattoo things were accurate so if they aren’t sorry in advance 😭 this was a lot of fun to write and i’m actually debating on writing some other things for this couple (especially for guk’s birthday), but i’m not sure yet. let me know if y’all are interested though and i’ll see what i can come up with. as always, thank you vi for supporting my shenanigans and reading this like four times lmao. feedback is always welcomed and highly appreciated. enjoy everyone! 

full masterlist // drabbles

Jungkook’s body buzzed with excitement as he squeezed past the bustling bodies at the 25th annual Milano Tattoo Convention. His fourth year at the world’s largest tattooing competition with a chance to take home the prize for “Best Large Black & White” piece against four hundred incredible artists had Jungkook amped up and ready to go. Some of his inspirations - legends in the game - were mere feet away from him as he browsed the almost endless stations filled with merchandise, displays of new tattoo designs, and occupied benches with models. There was almost nothing he enjoyed more than being around the sound of buzzing guns and filling sheets of half-filled paper with sketches his brain had no issues conjuring up but sometimes struggled to complete. Well, except food. And video games. And you. Not really the point though.

He’d been tattooing for almost six years now, from the moment he’d been able to convince Yoongi to let him be his apprentice. Jungkook had wasted no time in starting his own personal tattoo collection, quickly filling in a full sleeve on his right arm going across his right pectoral and another upper half sleeve on his left. Now, he was making his own name in the art world, commissioning pieces solely off his ability to execute various styles well with very little practice. Jungkook was a jack of all trades and very nearly a master of all. He was a risk-taker and it had paid off for him during his time at Milano, taking home “Best Small Black & White” his second year at the ripe age of twenty, and then “Best Medium Black & White” the following year. Yoongi could barely believe it when the judges called his name and announced him the winner but Jungkook knew his mentor’s chest was swollen with pride. This time, though, there were bigger fish to fry - “Best Large Black & White” in a style Jungkook had just begun feeling comfortable with: fine line tattoos.

He paused at the Killer Ink booth where Hori Kashi was working on a beautiful traditional koi fish upper half sleeve design as his phone buzzed. An Instagram notification.

_petuniablooms: hey jungkook! im so sorry this is last minute but i won’t be able to make the convention to be your model. I got a bad case of food poisoning from dinner last night. i hope this doesn’t cost you the comp. but when you’re back in the country, maybe i can schedule an appt? sorry again!

Jungkook blinked slowly. She couldn’t make it? This was not part of his plan. She was supposed to be here in the next half an hour so he would have enough time to complete his piece for judging in four hours. As one of the younger artists at the convention and with immense amounts of talent, people wondered how long Jungkook would be able to sustain his efforts, especially after taking home prizes in one of the major categories two years in a row. Most of them thought he would burn out after his second year or third year, but here he was. Competitive by nature, Jungkook wanted to prove them wrong - that he really did have what it took to be one of the best in the game. A legend in his own right. He shoved his phone back into his black cargo pants pocket and tugged on his curling brown locks. What was he going to do now?

“Guk! Hey, Guk!” He could barely make out your petite frame as you shoved and elbowed your way through the throngs of folk gathered around booths. You were set on getting to him though, your smaller form not holding you back from covering the distance, your brow set in determination whenever he did get glimpses of your face in the crowd.

That was something Jungkook admired about you: your no-nonsense-get-it-done attitude. Friends for almost three years now, he’d seen the way you’d taken charge of almost every opportunity that came your way. You didn’t take no as the final answer and if you couldn’t find a way to make it happen, you created your own. Either way, you got it done. As the first lead female tattoo artist at your shop, Sin City, you’d also made a name for yourself in the tattooing world as a specialist in black and white shading. Your signature though was the three-color-combination color style you developed for your color tattoos. That’s how the two of you had met - the year he’d won “Best Small Black & White”, you’d taken home “Best Medium Color” - and the two of you hadn’t looked back since.

“Gosh, there’s so many people here. It was so hard to find you. I knew I should have checked the Kashi booth first,” you said after finding a pocket of space next to him and hugging his torso.

“Y/N, it’s a convention. Of course there’s going to be a lot of people here,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you, subconsciously looking for comfort in your touch.

Though the two of you mostly had conflicting schedules due to the demand for your work, you did your best to make time for one another. Jungkook had grown accustomed to seeing you every few weeks for lunch or on Friday nights with beer and chicken for Marvel movie marathon weekends. He didn’t dwell on it too much - how ridiculously domestic a lot of your traditions were - not wanting to shake the table and send the precariously perched house of cards pyramid the two of you had created crashing to the ground, upsetting the balance of your friendship. No, Jungkook would leave those thoughts right where they were.

He more felt than saw you roll your eyes as you said, “Yes, Guk. Conventions have lots of people. This just seems like a health and safety hazard though.” Jungkook squeezed you as you pressed closer to him, slightly uncomfortable as more people gathered in the area.

“Alright, let’s go,” he replied, reminding himself to search for the finished koi design afterward as the two of you walked away. “How’d your piece go?”

“So fucking good!” you beamed and turned your face towards him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Though I don’t know if it’ll win this year, the guy seemed to be really pleased and that’s all that matters. Plus, t-shirt sales have gone up. Like way up! Speaking of which, you should buy one. My t-shirt design on your body?” you did the chef’s kiss, “Impeccable!” you exclaimed and grinned.

Your smile was another thing Jungkook admired about you. The faintest dimples appeared when you did and there was almost never a moment when he couldn’t not smile with you. It was a smile that reached your twinkling eyes and illuminated your face with a glow. Like right now, as you’re striking poses and modeling your black and white cityscape background covered with your shop’s name in a candy red color, a tattoo gun positioned to finish the last line of the last letter on the white tee in the middle of the crowded aisle in some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen you wear in public. When did you get those?

“You know what would look good on my body?” you asked as the pair of you carried on walking. Me, he thought, but knew where this conversation was really going. “One of your tattoo designs!”

Jungkook sighed. “Y/N, we’ve already talked about this -”

“I know, Guk, but you literally have no reason to not tattoo me,” you whined. “You’ve tattooed every single one of your other friends! Hell, even Yoongi has a tattoo by you.”

“Yoongi has what?” the older man asked as he bumped into you two as you passed the registration booth.

“A tattoo by Jungkook,” you pouted, arms crossed.

It wasn’t that Jungkook didn’t want to tattoo you. He just didn’t want to fuck up a design that would be permanently etched into your skin for the rest of your life. He wanted to create something that was beautiful for you, something that really conveyed the importance of your presence in his life, but every time he sat down to do so, nothing seemed good enough. You’d been seriously begging him for the better part of a year to do something - anything - but he’d refused saying that he didn’t have the time. Secretly, he just didn’t want to fail and let you down.

“Ah, that age-old debate. It’ll happen one day, kid,” Yoongi said as he patted your shoulder gently. “What time are you setting up, Jeon? Your model’s supposed to be here soon, right?” Yoongi asked.

“Fuck!” Jungkook shouted, tugging on his hair and startling a few people around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have one. She can’t make it. I have to find someone else,” he yelled as he took off, no destination really in mind.

“Wait! Guk -” you called after him but he didn’t stop.

Sometimes, being around you was dangerous as Jungkook could quite literally forget what it was he needed to be doing. There was just something about you that made him lose focus, just a little bit. He couldn’t have that right now. Jungkook needed to be on his A-game, scouting a model that would give him consent in - he checked his phone - twelve minutes.

The one time Jungkook needed someone to be interested in his work, there wasn’t a single soul around. Where had all the people who were begging him to schedule them in for a quick session disappeared to? None of the people passing by were interested in getting a random, floral design done by Jeon Jungkook today, unfortunately. It was as though the devil of the tattoo underworld had cursed him the one time he could have used some luck for the sole purpose of being entertained. Circling back to the D-Town Tattoos booth, Jungkook was running out of options. Shit.

“There you are!” you wheezed as you came to a halt and rested your hands on the table in front of you. “Fuck, I forgot how fast you are.”

“Y/N, I don’t have time. I have to find a model -”

“Why don’t you just use Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he calmly took a seat next to his bench, a tall young man following behind him.

“I couldn’t -” Jungkook spluttered, eyes wide.

“Like you said, Jeon, you don’t have time,” Yoongi reminded him, setting up his work station for his client.

Jungkook looked over at you, still slightly hunched over and trying to catch your breath. This was not how he’d wanted to do this. “Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t know if -”

“Fuck yeah, dude!” you said interrupting him. “100%. Let’s do this!”

Jungkook watched as you made yourself comfortable on his workbench, waiting for him to get started. The fact that you weren’t nervous only added to his apprehension, the fear of potentially disappointing you resurfacing and rising in his gut. It felt like he was taking a risk with stakes much higher than he was willing to bet on, but the trust you had in him had him saying, “Okay. Fill out the consent forms and I’ll pull up the design.”

“What are we working with?” you asked curiously, handing the clipboard back over to him, not really reading it and only signing your name in the designated spots.

“Thigh piece,” he murmured, concentrating on finding the correct sketch on his iPad.

“Sounds fun. I know it’s going to be amazing, Guk. Don’t worry,” you reassured him. He smiled warily as you gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.

Nodding more to himself than you, he showed you the design. @_petuninablooms, like her name suggested, loved flowers. So much so, she’d wanted a full piece dedicated to that specific flower as well as whatever other floral arrangements she thought Jungkook could make look pretty against her skin. She’d won his Instagram contest to be his model for free at the convention because of her sentimental design and background as a botanist, something that piqued Jungkook’s interest. Though he was proud of the design, it didn’t seem to fit you.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know if it’ll fit your style,” he said, gesturing to your upper half sleeve. The three faces of Frida Khalo, Nefertiti, and Tomoe Gozen were beautifully designed and organized by you as a symbol of feminine unity - embodying passion, leadership, and grace. A much edgier piece than what currently sat on the screen of his iPad designed for his winner, he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about the softer image.

“I told you, Guk. You could tattoo anything on me and I’d be happy. Maybe even more happy than if you’d let me tattoo you. I just want to have something of yours on me - support your craft, you know? Besides,” you said zooming in on the flowers, your gold rings shining in the light, “I like petunias.” Jungkook wasn’t sure if you were only saying this to make him feel better, but he was grateful for your encouragement anyway.

“Uh, I’m going to need you to take your shorts off,” he said hesitantly. “Yoongi, this isn’t against the rules, right? Like having another artist sit for you?” Jungkook asked, turning to give you some privacy though anyone walking past would be able to see you shimmy out of them as there was no curtain or door to shield you.

“Nope. Not that I’ve read,” Yoongi replied, concentrating on his design. Jungkook nodded, steeling himself to focus and get the job done. What he wasn’t expecting was to see you adjusting the band of some very high-waisted, very skimpy, black panties. He nearly choked.

“Does this need to be further up? If not, I can take them off for you. I don’t -”

“No!” Jungkook cried out as he tore his eyes away from the curve of your ass. “I can just move the stencil. It’ll be fine,” he continued after clearing his throat.

“Okay,” you said awkwardly. Jungkook apologized for his outburst as he wheeled himself over to sit in front of you on his little stool. He was making a much bigger deal of this entire situation that it needed to be. He’d seen you in a bikini before, but something about seeing you in your underwear sitting before him was different.

“Relax, Jeon. It’s only a thigh!” Yoongi teased, his head down but his shit-eating grin very much present as he worked on the shading on his client’s forearm. Though Yoongi would never say anything to you out of respect for Jungkook, Jungkook knew Yoongi enjoyed putting him through the wringer whenever you were around.

“Not just a thigh! It belongs to me. My thigh is prime real estate, Min Yoongi. There’s a lot of artists that have been wanting to get in on this,” you joked. Jungkook laughed as he prepped your skin for placing the stencil with rubbing alcohol, hating the fact that he couldn’t feel your skin through the latex gloves but also grateful for the sensory blocker. He knew you were right though - lots of artists did want to work on you and have you walk around with their work as free endorsement of their skill. Honestly, this was a prime opportunity and he should make the most of it.

“Would you be okay with me changing this larger petunia into a mandala? I know you like those,” Jungkook suggested.

“Guk, this is your piece. I told you, I’m good with whatever,” you said cheerfully.

“Keep talking like that I’ll tattoo my name on your ass,” he quipped as he adjusted the design before placing it.

“Make it your face and we just may have a deal,” you shot back and Yoongi gagged from his corner. Jungkook did not want to think about the potential implication of those words.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive the next three and a half hours with you making suggestive comments while standing in your barely-there underwear, but he was going to have to. Of course, as friends, you’d always had the occasional flirty banter but the “Best Large Black & White” prize was calling his name and God did he want to win. He double-checked the placement of the design as it stretched from just above your hip bone to finish in the middle of your thigh. His adjustments were so precise, it covered the expanse of your thigh damn near perfectly. Jungkook grinned.

“Ready?” he asked, holding up a mirror as you checked out the placement, twisting from side to side.

“Yeah, looks great. How do you want me?”

Jungkook paused as he set up his rolling tray filled with his ink caps and laid out his sterilized needles. There were more than a few ways he could answer that but he settled on, “However you’re most comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You laughed and climbed onto the bench, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your ass, before you settled against the leather on your left side. Jungkook adjusted the height of his seat so he could position on your thigh with your bent knee resting against the bench and angled towards him. Confirming you were indeed comfortable, Jungkook gently rubbed the A&D ointment across the first section of the design, taking slightly longer than necessary, and got to work. There was a little over three hours to get it done.

He worked diligently as he traced the fine lines of the flower petals, slipping into his professional mode. A small crowd had gathered around the booth, intrigued to see him work on you. Most of the folks there knew about your friendship from social media and mutual community-work settings, how the two of you had bonded over your shared love of tattoos, but seeing the two of you together like this was a real treat. He didn’t feel any pressure as the cameras fought to get a glimpse of him working though. Jungkook did well under pressure but there was a lot riding on this one piece. For him and for you. He wouldn’t disappoint you though. He couldn’t. Not when you looked so peaceful as he worked on the tattoo. Jungkook would win and make you proud.

“Guk, I have a question.”

“What’s up?”

“Would you fuck me?” Jungkook was thankful he’d removed the needle from your skin to wipe off the extra ointment as there was no doubt in his mind he would have fucked up had it been there.

“What?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“Okay, maybe that was a bit vulgar. I guess what I mean is do you think I’m attractive? Like -” you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “- a woman you’d spend the night with. Date long-term. That sort of thing,” you finished. Jungkook swallowed before he spoke.

“Uh, yeah. You’re an attractive person.” Jungkook replied, avoiding eye contact with you as he went back to tracing the lines and tried not to think of you under him, around him, on top of - “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship - since anyone has even asked me on a date. Seokjin never called me back after we went for drinks that one time and Jimin - nevermind actually,” you sighed and Jungkook re-lived the memory of Park Jimin with you - the second man to break your heart in a matter of months. His face soured as he remembered how inconsolable you were the first few months after the breakup and how badly he’d wanted to take a baseball bat to Jimin’s very nice, very expensive car. “Maybe I’m unapproachable. Yoongi, am I unapproachable?” you called over to him.

“Yes,” he said dryly, not bothering to look at you. You scoffed in response.

“You’re never the best person to ask, you old man! People barely talk to you,” you murmured.

“Y/N, you’re great,” Jungkook said in response. “You’re more than great actually, but maybe now isn’t the time to get into a relationship?”

“Why not? I have a stable job, I’m cool -”

“Barely!” Yoongi called over. Jungkook watched you shoot Yoongi the finger before you began speaking again.

“- and I’m charming. It would be nice if someone could appreciate that too, someone that wasn’t only me.”

“Hey! I appreciate you!” Jungkook blurted out, slightly offended.

“Yeah, like a friend. Guk, you know you don’t -”

“Don’t say it. Don’t tell me I don’t count, Y/N.”

“But Jungkook -”

Jungkook paused and set his gun down. “No. No ‘but Guk’, Y/N. I appreciate you, more than you know or understand. I get that we’re friends and I know you value our friendship, but you don’t get to tell me I don’t count because you think you know how I feel about you. Please don’t let your perception of my words and actions let you label them “friendly” when they’re something else.” Jungkook picked his gun back up, avoiding your gaze again, slightly alarmed by his unplanned confession.

“What? What do you mean ‘something different’?” you asked, confused. “Was I supposed to read this any differently after you said -”

“You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out - not like this at least,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Just don’t count me out okay, Y/N? Not this time. Can we talk about this later though? I just -”

Before he could finish, Jungkook’s alarm went off, signaling only an hour and a half left before he needed to be taking you for judgement. “Okay, Guk. I won’t count you out. Finish,” you said softly as you nodded to your tattoo and chewed your lip in thought.

With time against him, you and Jungkook no longer conversed, though the conversation rattled in his brain like loose change in a tin can. He would need much more than a penny for his thoughts if he wanted to get out of this situation. The hasty confession had Jungkook wondering if he’s said too much too soon. Had he finally sent the house of cards tumbling down? It’s not that he hadn’t wanted to say anything, but the fear of you not meaning what you’d said frightened him. Memories of the two of you curled up on his aging leather sofa flickered across his mind’s eye and he wondered if this fuck up was worse than the time he’d quickly denied having any romantic feelings for you the morning after a drunk confession and you’d reciprocated the feelings. It had taken a few months for things to return back to any type of normal, an uneasy tension having over you both whenever you’d met up. Every few seconds his eyes flitted to your face, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever you were thinking sprawled across your forehead in your big, looping handwriting but your eyes were closed and your face fairly serene as you let him work in silence.

And work he did, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind, finishing the last lines of the final petunia and filling in the mandala with various degrees of shading. He admired the delicacy of his work against your smooth skin, deciding it did suit you, much more than he could have hoped. Jungkook was actually slightly disappointed he was close to finishing, already missing the intimacy of working on you, but also eager to get you on stage so people could see his work. He’d gotten lost in the act like he usually did, concentration never breaking as the rest of the Milano Convention continued in full effect around him. Why had he waited so long to do this? You were a dream to work on, never flinching even as he finished up the minute shading of your tattoo, the worst part for many people. A true tattoo veteran with a hell of a pain tolerance. Roughly ten minutes left in the session, Jungkook wrapped up the piece.

“All done,” he said softly, wiping away the excess ointment and admiring his work briefly.

He heard you gasp as you propped yourself up to get a better view of it. “Holy fuck, Jungkook! It’s perfect. I love it!” you whispered in amazement and Jungkook smiled, relieved to not have disappointed you.

“Let me get some pictures, yeah?” You nodded and Jungkook snapped a few shots, promising to send them to you after the convention ended.

“Looks good, Jeon. And you got it done in time. You learned well,” Yoongi chuckled as Jungkook weakly punched his shoulder. “Are you happy, Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he packed up his spare equipment while his client waited patiently to be escorted to judging.

“Happy?” you scoffed, checking the tattoo out again in the mirror. “How about fucking ecstatic? I’m absolutely in love. Seriously Guk, thank you,” you beamed and launched yourself at him for a hug. Jungkook made eye contact with Yoongi as he held you tight in his arms, the older man relaying a silent message to his younger apprentice through raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

“Alright, alright. You can stare at it more later. We have to get to the judges and make it through all these people so,” Jungkook trailed off, letting you go while simultaneously ushering you out of their designated little space. Agreeing, you grabbed your teeny shorts and shoved your feet back into your sneakers. Jungkook stayed close behind you in an effort to cover your very visible, very exposed ass from peering eyes as you moved through the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it, he was really protective of you.

The trek to the judging station wasn’t as official as the name made it sound. It was really just a small stage raised a few inches above the ground with a table and enough chairs to seat the three judges as artists and their models were scored based on design, complexity, and overall execution. This year’s judges were Jung Hoseok of J’s Tailored Tattoos, Kim Namjoon of Mono & Moon, and Kim Taehyung of Vintage Vante. The three of them were rightfully deemed the gods of the tattoo world and Jungkook looked up to them immensely, each of them having numerous titles on the world stage in countries like Brasil, the United Kingdom, and Australia. Nerves rolled in Jungkook’s belly as he waited in the crowd with you for the host to call his name. A win with these guys as the judges would really put some of those naysayers in their place and Jungkook shuffled in place behind you, antsy.

“What’s wrong, Guk?’ you whispered to him as another artist and model headed on stage.

“What if they don’t like it?” he murmured anxiously.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook nodded. “Then that’s all that really matters. You’re insanely talented and I know they’re some of your role models, but they’re fucked if they don’t see how incredible you are. You’ve got this, Guk,” you said in a hushed tone as Yoongi took the stage with his model from earlier. Jungkook smiled into the back of your head as you stood in front of him and gave his hand a squeeze. Jungkook could always count on you.

It was now his turn. Standing with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other firmly gripping your shorts, Jungkook watched as the judges made their notes on their scoring sheets. You turned graciously to give all three of them the best view of the tattoo. And while he knows that there are probably a few people who’d be overjoyed at the challenges he faced to get to this moment, Jungkook didn’t care. Not when your uplifting words still wrapped around him, affirming his skill and talents. He was proud of what he’d accomplished today and while winning was the ultimate goal, he was also at ease because he’d succeeded in fulfilling one of your wishes and you were happy. Jungkook could only smile as you showered him with praise and tried to convince him to tattoo you again as the judging continued.

The two of you stood with Yoongi, chatting as the judges tallied up the scores. He tried to stay still as he watched the host organize the names of the winning artists, losing interest in the conversation as the judges confirmed the final results. One by one, the host read the categories and its corresponding champion. “For Best Medium Color,” the host paused for dramatic effect, “Min Yoongi!” Jungkook cheered loudly with you as his mentor took the stage with his model showing off the antique pocket watch and a royal flush poker hand on top of a wispy background.

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest, the sensation almost worse than his first year at the convention as Best Large Black & White was read out. Though he wanted to look calm and collected on the outside, Jungkook was sure he looked anything but. The audience created their own drumroll as the anticipation built - “Jeon Jungkook!”

Your squeal kickstarted Jungkook’s brain as he processed his win. He’d really done it? A few people around him clapped him on the shoulders in congratulations as he was pushed towards the stage to collect his prize and take his place beside the host. “Congratulations, Jungkook! One of the few artists to take home all three wins in one category,” the host announced. If only they knew what it took to get there. Jungkook felt like he was on cloud nine as he shook hands with the judges and took his picture with you and them, prize in hand. He knew he was positively glowing with pride.

“Guk, you did it! I told you that you could!” you cheered as you bounced up and down in happiness and excitement as they moved onto Best Large Color. He smiled down at you and unable to help himself any longer, he scooped you up into his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/N!” He repeated the phrase earnestly as if saying it over and over again would finally let you understand just how grateful he was but all it really did was make you giggle as his breath tickled your skin. “Seriously, I really couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I know,” you joked and flipped your hair. You both laughed and you pulled him in for another hug as you said, “Of course, Guk. I’m always here for you. Always,” you punctuated with a squeeze and a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “You are always here for me,” he said vaguely as he stared down at you in his arms.

“Guk?” you queried as he stared off into the distance.

“This isn’t happening because I won. I don’t want you to think that I only do things like this when I’m any sort of intoxicated, okay?” Jungkook clarified as his confidence grew.

“Things like what?”

“Like confess and kiss you,” he stated.

“Kiss me? You’ve never-”

“Yes, I know I’ve never kissed you. But I want to. Is that okay?” Jungkook asked seriously.

“Yes. More than okay,” you whispered.

It was all Jungkook needed to hear. He was finally kissing you. A soft kiss that grew the longer you stood pressed together in the middle of the convention floor. Jungkook had had his fair share of first kisses, but yours was the one he’d remember for the rest of his life. Maybe because it was you. Maybe that’s why it would always be his favorite. He’d always refrained from putting himself in any situation where he’d be even the slightest bit tempted but now, after having you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let you go. The overwhelming sensation that it was actually happening was quickly quelled by the insurmountable joy he felt as you kissed because it was actually happening.

Jungkook may have ascended into another plane as your fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck and you pulled him further into you. Though he really didn’t want you to think he was only doing this because he’d won, the courage it gave him really did help. The feeling of winning nearly paled in comparison from the brief, sweet taste that was you. Even if he’d never won tonight, he would have considered himself a winner regardless from the kiss alone. Jungkook sighed into you as he savored the moment. Through the pounding of blood in his ears, he could vaguely make out the hoots and hollers of passerbyers as he held you close. Lost in you once again, Jungkook forced himself to remember your earlier conversation.

“Did you really mean it though?” he asked, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and the other holding onto his golden plaque.

“Mean what?”

“Not counting me out.”

“Did you mean what you said?” you countered. “Even if I wasn’t supposed to find out this way.”

“Yes, and all the times before then,” he answered truthfully. “So, does this mean you’ll have me?”

“Absolutely. Totally. With my entire hea-” He pressed repeated kisses against your mouth, your teeth clashing as you both smiled, neither of you willing to break apart until a familiar voice cleared its throat.

“I leave for five minutes and this is how I find you. Took you long enough though. Be that as it may, are you done?” Yoongi asked, expression wry and his own prize peeking out of his duffle bag. “I could use some food before we head back to the hotel and Y/N is going to need that tattoo bandaged.”

“Right, right,” Jungkook answered and let you go albeit reluctantly. “We’ll meet you at the car?” Yoongi nodded.

“Don’t take forever. I will leave you. Both of you,” Yoongi warned as he headed off to the exit without any further questions.

Back at the booth, Jungkook applied a generous amount of ointment to the piece before securing it with a bandage and double-checking the tape. Helping you step into your shorts, he smiled at the tattoo. Not only would it be a great reminder of a great win, it would also signify the milestone in your friendship - relationship? - was taking. “Told you that you should’ve tattooed me sooner,” you quipped as you gingerly pulled up your shorts.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, playing along as he quickly packed up his things.

“You would have won much sooner,” you murmured, standing before him.

“Really? What would have been my prize instead? Because that plaque is pretty great.” Jungkook sat his bag on the ground and rested his hands on your hips.

“Better than me?” you grinned and he pressed his lips to yours again.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with another design then,” he hummed.

“Or you can let me and I can tattoo you,” you suggested with a devilish grin.

“And what do you propose?”

“My name. Right here,” you pointed to the empty space on the left side of his chest.

“Only if you let me tattoo my face on your ass,” he joked and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Deal,” you laughed.

Jungkook said nothing further, only smiled as he laced his fingers between yours and tugged you in the direction of the exit. “Great. I’ll have everything arranged,” he replied. Laughing with you in these moments meant so much to him and while he wasn’t sure what would happen between you after you left the convention and headed home, he would take pleasure in these moments for as long as you’d let him. As the two of you exited the building and hustled across the busy street to the parking garage so Yoongi wouldn’t have an excuse to leave you, Jungkook wondered if you’d known that your name had been inked over his heart a long, long time ago.

full masterlist // drabbles

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[mittensmorgul]

Happy Resurrection Day

A short fic in celebration of Dean and Cas’s 12th anniversary!

Rated: T Words: 3652

Summary: The world didn't end, and Dean and Cas finally get to choose each other. It only took twelve years and a little road trip back to where it all started.

Read it here on AO3

One random morning in mid-September, a few months after the world was left in their hands once and for all, Dean woke up to the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. There wasn’t really much to forget anymore. There was no looming apocalypse, no new catastrophe on the horizon. The biggest dilemma he’d faced in the last few days was whether he had enough milk to make pancakes, or whether he’d have to run out to the store before breakfast.

Sure, he and Cas took the occasional salt and burn. Easy hunts they could usually dust in a day. Sam had taken an extended road trip to see the country and try to figure out what he wanted to do with himself now that he was truly free to explore what life after Chuck could look like, but Dean already knew. He’d known for a good long time that he loved his life, loved the bunker, and loved hunting. And for whatever reason, Cas had just decided to stay, no strings attached. Whether Dean was itching to get out on the road for a long weekend on the slimmest excuse of a hunt that just as often as not turned into a detour to some tourist trap or other, or whether Dean just wanted to sit at home bingeing an old tv series or having a movie marathon, Cas seemed equally content with the slate of activities Dean conjured up for them.

He hadn’t put it into so many words, and he definitely hadn’t said it to Cas, but Dean also loved that Cas had stayed with him.

So it was strange waking up with an unsettled swirling in the pit of his stomach. He held a hand up to his forehead, checked his eyes and throat in the mirror to make sure he wasn’t coming down with something. He didn’t want to get Cas sick, if he was. He’d already survived Cas’s first cold as a human, just barely. They went through so much soup in a week, Dean was starting to wonder if Cas was just milking it for the room service. He had to admit that Cas letting him walk him through the highlights of Dr. Sexy while he was curled up in a blanket nest by his side wasn’t the worst thing he’d had to endure. But for now, Dean wasn’t sick. He just had a restlessness in his bones and no idea how to cure it.

He pulled on his robe and ambled out to the kitchen. Coffee would help him figure out what was eating at him, surely. Only Cas had beat him to it, which was unusual enough to amp up that uneasy feeling. Dean usually beat Cas to the kitchen most mornings, so walking in to a full pot of coffee and no other sign of Cas had him wondering if something was wrong. He poured himself a cup and set off in search of Cas, and whatever he was up to so early in the morning.

He found Cas sitting at the table in the library scrolling around on the internet. Dean just stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, studying his posture as if it might give him some clue what sort of mood Cas was in. Human or not, Cas still had the intense focus he’d always had as an angel, and aside from pausing to take a sip of his coffee or navigate to the next page, he barely moved from his position hunched over the keyboard. Rather than startle him, Dean waited until Cas put his mug down before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

“Mornin’ sunshine. You’re up early.”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, giving him a guilty glance before going back to his work. “Yes, I had been hoping to surprise you later, but I apparently didn’t wake up early enough for that. I hope you slept okay.”

Dean shrugged as he walked around the table and sat down across from Cas. He took a sip of his coffee before replying.

“Mostly. Woke up feeling restless, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

Cas nodded at him as if he understood exactly what Dean meant. “I did, as well. And then I checked the calendar. I assume you know what today is?”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he performed a few calculations. Days all sort of blended together after a while, but they’d made a trip up to Henderson for supplies on Wednesday, and that was only a couple days before.

“Friday?” Dean eventually replied, hoping he was right.

Cas laughed, but shook his head. “It is Friday, but it’s also September 18th.”

Dean blinked at him for a moment as he mentally rocketed back to a run down old gas station where the windows shattered the first time Cas had ever tried to introduce himself. He’d just clawed his way out of his own grave, and the local newspaper had helpfully supplied him the date, and the knowledge that he’d been in hell all of four months. No wonder he’d woken up feeling weird. He might’ve forgotten the date, but somewhere deep down, some part of him would always know it.

Dean came back to himself to find Cas waiting patiently for him, like he always did. He took another sip of his coffee and set the mug down, recalling what Cas had said before sending him off down disturbing memory lane. Better to focus on the present than linger in that particular bit of the past.

“So you were planning a surprise?”

Cas shrugged. “I thought maybe we should do something to celebrate. People celebrate these sorts of milestones, yes?”

Dean wobbled his head side to side and made a face. “Pretty sure Hallmark dosn’t make a card for this one.”

Cas frowned, reaching up to shut the laptop as if he’d made some terrible faux pas, but Dean quickly dropped his hand atop Cas’s to stop him.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it anyway,” he said more quietly, smiling at Cas. “It was a pretty noteworthy occasion, you pulling me outta hell. What did you have in mind?”

Cas’s frown deepened. “That’s where I’ve been stuck all morning. It felt inappropriate to suggest going to visit your gravesite, and taking you out to dinner seems… trite, in light of the occasion.”

“You know me, Cas. I’m always up for food,” Dean replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus it wasn’t just about me being un-dead, you know. It’s the whole reason we met in the first place. And look how that turned out.”

Cas had finally begun to smile again, and turned his attention back to the computer. “We didn’t actually meet face to face until late the next night when you summoned me. There was a bit of a delay due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Dean thought about that for a minute, nodding as he remembered the events of his first few days back on earth. “Well, if you wanna do it right, we could always take a road trip back to that old barn, see if it’s still standing.”

“Have you been back there since then?” Cas asked, curious now.

Dean shook his head. “Driven by it a few times over the years, but never went back inside. The whole farm’s completely overgrown. I figured someone would’ve gotten freaked out by all the weird symbols and burned the place down by now. It was still standing as of a couple years ago.” That got Dean curious. “Have you been back?”

“It’s been a while,” Cas said quietly. “I used to fly there sometimes, when I still could. It was a quiet place to think.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Then that’s what we should do. We’re taking a road trip. I know at least three great diners between here and there I haven’t taken you to yet. We can make a whole weekend out of it.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Cas replied, finally shutting the computer.

“Good. Breakfast first, then we’ll head out. Have ourselves a little resurrection day road trip.”

Dean grabbed his mug and stood up. He’d need to get dressed and pack a bag. They could have a quick breakfast if they were gonna be stopping at Dana’s Diner for lunch. It was a bit of a detour, but the burgers were worth it. He flashed a grin at Cas.

“I’m gonna pack a bag and grab some cereal before we hit the road. Meet you in the kitchen in 20?”

Cas nodded and shut the laptop. As Dean made his way out to the hall, he heard Cas mutter quietly, “Happy Resurrection Day,” as if he was testing out the sentiment. He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

The drive to Illinois took most of the day. It could’ve been a lot quicker, but in addition to Dana’s, they hit a steakhouse on the outskirts of Chicago for dinner before swinging back south toward their destination. Dean bypassed the Astoria Motel where a mirrored ceiling shattered by Cas’s angelic voice had once nearly killed him. He pointed it out as part of their trip down memory lane, but pulled up at a different motel clear across town with the excuse that it would be a shorter drive back to the barn in the morning. Their room was a lot less shabby, and a lot less pay-by-the-hour feeling than the Astoria, so Dean felt it was a win all around.

As they settled in for the night like they had every night they’d been on the road together, Dean let himself really feel the usual longing the three foot chasm between their beds brought out in him. Most nights he’d just roll over and pretend to fall asleep while mashing that feeling down as hard as he could. Tonight, though, he lay in bed staring across that gap, wishing he could make some excuse to crawl into the other bed. Of all nights, and in this particular place, he really just wanted someone to hug until dawn.

The specific someone being Cas.

In the dark, in the quiet listening to Cas’s breathing even out as he drifted off, for one moment Dean allowed himself to admit that he didn’t just love that Cas had stayed with him. He loved Cas. Full stop. Dean lay there until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, holding on to that feeling and knowing he’d have to crush it back down in the morning.

He dreamt of what could’ve happened in that barn, if he hadn’t stabbed Cas that first time they’d met. With twelve years of history between them now, and Dean’s quiet revelation that he was in love with Cas, his dream-self went through a series of alternate endings to that meeting ranging from love confessions to things that he would definitely not be enumerating to Cas over breakfast the next morning. It made for an excellent night’s slumber.

Morning came without the restlessness the previous day had. Dean opened his eyes to the dawn light seeping between the curtains to shine a golden spotlight on Cas’s face, which was smiling back at him.

“Hello, Dean. I take it you slept better last night?”

Dean yawned, but didn’t quite feel like getting up yet. He wanted to enjoy this surreal moment for just a bit longer. Instead he stretched out under the blankets and propped himself up on his pillow to get a better look at Cas.

“Yeah, you?”

Cas propped himself up on his elbow, no longer in the little beam of light, and blinked at him. “I’m reserving judgment until after we have coffee, but yes. It seems to have been satisfactory.” Cas frowned for a second, and Dean was about to ask what was wrong, when Cas asked, puzzled, “If yesterday was Resurrection Day, what does that make today?”

Dean must’ve still been a bit loopy from his late night thoughts, the restful sleep, and what he could recall of the dream he’d been having. He never would’ve blurted it out around a yawn otherwise, but that’s exactly what he did.

“It’s countdown to Cas day.”

He froze for a second after the words had escaped into the wild, and then slowly turned to take in the fond look on Cas’s face.

“I’m already here, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t twelve years ago. I didn’t even know your name yet.”

“You do now,” Cas replied. “How should we celebrate it? Since I sincerely hope you weren’t dead set on a complete reenactment. I don’t have the power to rattle the roof or blow open the doors anymore.”

Dean grinned at that and sat up. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna shoot you, either.”

“I appreciate that,” Cas replied, sitting up on the edge of his own bed opposite Dean. He looked right into Dean’s eyes, as if attempting to convey some deeper meaning to his words, and spoke quietly. “I’m glad you finally believe in me.”

They sat there for a long moment before Dean finally nodded. “‘Course I believe in you, Cas.”

They took turns in the shower and packed up their bags. After a quick breakfast on the way to the farm, they drove down the overgrown dirt road that led to the barn. Dean had to leave the car a good way back down the road, and they hiked through the knee-high scrub to the broken old barn door. Dean picked up a shattered timber and tossed it out of the way as he pushed his way inside.

“Man, this place is a lot less intimidating looking in broad daylight,” he said, as the two of them stood in the doorway and took in the faded symbols Bobby had painted on every surface of the interior. Broken glass still littered the floor, now covered with a heavy layer of dust.

“It looks different now, somehow,” Cas added. “Smaller. Which is strange considering I was so much larger the first time I was here.”

Dean turned to him and smiled. “Yeah, but now you’re seeing it human. It’s gotta be weird.”

Cas shrugged, and walked around the perimeter of the barn, examining the sigils out of old habit. “This has always been a quiet place for me,” he said, touching a warding sigil with his fingertips before continuing on. “Nothing unholy could find me here. I could be alone with my thoughts.”

Dean noticed a few of the sigils Cas stopped by, and didn’t recognize them. A collection of carefully drawn wards drawn much smaller and in a different shade of paint that stood out from all the rest he’d watched Bobby create twelve years ago.

“Did you add those?” he asked.

Cas nodded. “Angel proofing. Or at least, concealing.”

Dean thought back to all the times Cas had been running or hiding from Heaven and the rest of the angels. When he’d been human and had nowhere to go, and instead of coming here he’d run in the opposite direction, because Dean had kicked him out. A bolt of guilt shot through him and nailed his feet to the floor. This was a place Dean hadn’t come back to because it reminded him that he’d been to Hell, reminded him that Heaven had wanted him for their own for reasons that frankly horrified him now. But for Cas, this was the place Dean had first met him, a place that for him would forever be about the moment he was truly introduced to humanity. It had been kind of a shit introduction, if Dean was honest with himself. But twelve years later, after all the shit had played itself out, Cas had finally made his own choice about his life, and he’d come back to where it all began.

“Happy resurrection day,” Dean said as he stared at Cas from across the room.

Cas turned to him, the look of surprise on his face quickly turning to a smile. “It is a bit like a resurrection, isn’t it? We’ve come all the way back around to where it started, and we’re free of it all now.”

Dean just nodded dumbly, letting the enormity of it sink in as Cas walked over to stand in front of him.

“I don’t have wings or the power of Heaven at my back, but I do recall something I said to you that night. Good things do happen, Dean. And they have.”

“And here we are again,” Dean said, clearing his throat. Both of their lives had changed that night, and they’d spent so much of their time fighting against everything in the universe since then. The one constant had always been each other, even when they’d totally fucked it all up and broken the natural order and sacrificed themselves to fix it all again, they’d done it to save each other. At the end of the road, and the beginning of their journey, Dean couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up any longer. “I love you, you know.”

Cas sucked in a shocked breath of air and blinked at him for a moment, before a grin broke across his face, lighting up the gloomy, dusty haze in the barn. “I love you too, Dean. I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

Dean shook his head, finally prying his feet free to shuffle closer to Cas. He reached out a hand to rest it on Cas’s shoulder, right at the base of his neck. “No, I mean, I love you. I think I always have, and I know I always will, but I only really just figured it out. I’m in love with you and you’ve put me back together in ways you can’t even imagine. You might’ve resurrected me and healed me more times than I can count, but you helped make me a whole person, Cas. And I love you.”

Dean felt the prickling of tears behind his eyes and struggled to hold them back. Like he always did, Cas stared into him, right through him, and lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek.

“I’d hoped it was obvious when I chose humanity, when I chose to stay with you, that I felt the same way for you, Dean. I didn’t have any idea how much knowing you would change me, how much you would teach me about humanity and what makes life worth living when I first walked through those doors. One thing I did know, though, was that I already loved you. I had no idea what that even meant yet, but I would learn.”

A slightly manic laugh escaped Dean’s lips at the euphoria of hearing Cas’s words, seeing the heartbreaking honesty in his face, and wondering how long it was polite to wait before kissing him. Cas gave him a relieved smile, as if he’d been holding it all in far too long, and Dean let out a sigh as he pulled Cas to him.

“Love at first stab, huh?” Dean asked, smiling right into Cas’s face.

“Don’t belittle it, Dean. I loved you even before then. The moment I laid a hand on you in Hell. Healing your soul and reuniting it with your body, resting you gently in your grave and waiting for you to emerge again.”

“You do know how fucked up that was, right? You couldn’t have just dug me out?”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “It was Heaven’s orders. I never thought to question them. But yes, it has bothered me many times over the years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s bothered me more than once that I tried to thank you for saving me from Hell by stabbing you in the heart.”

“It worked, though,” Cas replied, one eyebrow raised. “I’m still here with you.”

“Better than cupid’s arrow,” Dean muttered, and then grimaced at his own terrible reference. It amused Cas, though. “Okay, enough awful jokes. Are you gonna kiss me already?”

Cas made a considering face, as if he hadn’t already made up his mind. “Happy resurrection day to both of us, then. I suppose we know exactly how to celebrate it now.”

Dean took that as the invitation it was, and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met tentatively at first, and then more confidently as they clung to one another in the gloom. The exploding lights were all internal this time, but no less spectacular. Dean shuffled his feet and heard the crunching of broken glass, and reluctantly pulled back from Cas.

“We should probably find someplace less dangerous if we’re gonna keep going…”

Cas nodded his regretful agreement. With one last look around the old barn, they pulled the doors shut.

“We can come back next year, if you want,” Dean said, taking Cas’s hand and leading him back to the car. “Make it an annual thing.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Cas replied. “The annual resurrection road trip.”

“Next year we bring a broom,” Dean added, leading Cas through the weeds. “Maybe a picnic.”

Cas laughed, letting his hand go when they reached the car.

“So what do you wanna do next?” Dean asked as he climbed back behind the wheel. “We still technically got the rest of the day to celebrate.”

“You mentioned several diners you wanted to introduce me to, and it’s nearly time for lunch,” Cas replied.

Dean thought over their options, then leaned across the front seat to plant a kiss on the corner of Cas’s mouth, just because he could. The look of surprised delight on Cas’s face was more than worth it. “How much of a detour are you up for?”

Cas gave him a look of mock pity. “Dean, I’ll go anywhere with you. No detour is too long if I have you to share the journey with.”

Dean gave him a proper kiss, with a promise of more for later. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

[kimjoongs]

—ateez college au series [cs]

i imagine san to be a photography major

he has a very creative eye and looks at the world through a different kind of lens than everyone else

he’s been interested in photography ever since he middle school when he went to a photography exhibit on a field trip

san is a very expressive person and he wanted to somehow transfer his emotions into something tangible

and what better way to do that than through photography?

san has two cameras: film and digital

in high school, he didn’t have enough money to buy a professional camera so he just stuck to his phone camera

but when he got a job and collected enough money, he went and bought his first camera, the film one

you best bet san treasured it more than anything

he tried his best not to use it as much because there’s only a limited number of film and buying more was e x p e n s i v e

but when san graduated high school his parents gifted him with a digital camera too

wherever san goes, he’s always taking pictures, whether it’s on his phone or cameras

he usually uses his film camera for more personal things, like pictures of his family, friends, or places that are important to him, and he either hangs them up in his apartment or turn them in for assignments

and he uses his digital camera for editing purposes, like double exposure or halftones

his roommate, wooyoung, serves as his personal model from time to time

“hey wooyoung stand by that tree for a sec, i wanna get a picture” “omg wooyoung wait sit still, the lighting is so good here” “WOOYOUNG GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE IT’S GOLDEN HOUR”

wooyoung is annoyed bc of this sometimes, but as soon as he takes one look at his roommate eagerly bouncing on the tips of his toes, camera clutched in his hands, he can’t bring himself to be upset about it

also the one time san submitted a photo of wooyoung for an assignment he received a perfect score on it so—

one time wooyoung asked san if he ever modeled for his own photos, and san said he’d much rather be behind the camera than in front of it

except for the photos his parents made him take when he was a kid, san never really liked having his picture taken

he always felt more comfortable taking someone else’s

oh and also because san doesn’t let a n y o n e touch his cameras, not even wooyoung

there was a time where wooyoung offered to take san’s photo for him and he practically leaped away when wooyoung reached for his camera

everyone in the fine arts building knows who san is because he’s always running around taking pictures

their campus always has a bunch of stray cats wandering around, and if photography wasn’t san’s weakness, then it was cats

“omg wooyoung look there’s a cat i need to take a picture of it—” “san you’ve already taken twenty pictures of the same cat, let’s go before we’re late to class”

san is also such a friendly and gentle soul, so it wasn’t hard for him to charm all of his professors

one professor in particular became really fond of san because he reminds him of himself when he was younger

he became sort of a father figure to san and even offered to give san tips on how to take better photos

he also gave san permission to go into the darkroom after class hours or on the weekends should he need them

you can imagine how much san took advantage of that (in a good way ofc)

if san wasn’t running around taking pictures, then he was probably in the darkroom developing them

for a few months, san was pretty much the only person who used the darkroom after hours, so he never really bothered knocking on the door before entering

but the one time he didn’t, he almost ran into someone on the way in

at the sight of someone else in the darkroom, san let out the loudest shriek, jumping backwards and hitting the door

you flinched at san’s shriek and stumbled backwards, catching yourself by grabbing onto the edge of a table

for a minute, the two of you just stared at each other, still in shock

san snapped out of it first

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you. i thought no one else was in here, ahh so sorry i should’ve knocked”

your heart rate finally went down to normal, and you straightened yourself up, giving the sheepish boy in front of you a gentle smile

“no it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

san practically sighed in relief when he saw that you weren’t mad at him “well, now that we’ve officially scared the crap out of each other—” he stuck his hand out, flashing you a dimpled smile “i’m san, it’s nice to meet you”

your lips quirked up and you took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly “i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you too”

and that was how san, a photography major, met you, also a photography major

apparently the two of you had managed to charm the same professor, and he gave the both of you access to the darkroom

you found out that san lived in the same apartment building as you, you being on the 3rd floor and him on the 2nd

the two you became fast friends due to your shared love photography

during visitation hours, you’ll either be in his apartment or he’ll be in yours

wooyoung, who isn’t a photography major, sometimes looks at the two you with the most confused expression because you guys will start firing off, using terminology that he doesn’t understand

sometimes if it gets too much, he’ll call yeosang and beg him to get him out of there

one time when you came over, you noticed the wall above san’s desk was practically covered in pictures

most of it was of people whom you assumed were san’s family, but you noticed wooyoung in a few of them, and then there were 6 other boys pictured too whom you weren’t quite familiar with

“hey san, are these friends of yours?” you asked

san looked up to where you were pointing, and his expression immediately softened

“yeah, that’s the gang. i use that wall to hang pictures of the people who are important to me”

your eyes widened, you weren’t expecting san to share that personal piece of info with you, but it made your heart warm nonetheless

“you’re such a sap san,” you teased, poking him in the arm

he rolled his eyes at you playfully, shoving your shoulder gently “shut up and get back to editing your photos”

for the next few months, your friendship with san grew tenfold

the two of you would often meet up after class just to hang out or grab some food

you both began to value the other’s opinion and would sometimes email or show each other photos you each took, asking what the other thought of it

you thought that having another person aside from a professor view your work, especially someone as passionate as san, made you improve

san always gave you his honest opinion, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but you were grateful nonetheless

one day, san was given a project by one his professors to photograph the same person or object for a whole month

and usually san would go and ask wooyoung, but he decided to change it up this time

so one day when the two of you were having lunch, san turned to look at you, his face set in a serious expression

“y/n, i have a very, very important question to ask you”

you raised your eyebrow at him, not used to seeing san’s face so serious

“what is it?” you asked, sitting up straight

“so i have a major assignment for class where i need to take pictures of the same person or object for an entire month, and i was wondering...if you wouldn’t mind being that person?”

your eyes widened, and san took this as a bad sign because his face immediately went from being serious to panicked “of course i’m not going to force you if you don’t want to!” 

san looked up at you, patiently waiting for your response

it’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s just... “why me?” you asked

one corner of san’s lips quirked upwards, making his dimple appear

“why not?” he replied

“i’ve just...i’ve never really modeled for someone else’s pictures before,” you said sheepishly

san waved a hand at you “you don’t have to worry about that. trust me, i’ll make you look absolutely breathtaking” he flashed you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes

“okay fine, i’ll do it”

and for the next two weeks, san has been snapping pictures of you left and right

most of the pictures he took were candid pictures, which you didn’t mind...until he took a picture of you eating your sandwich mid-bite

“san delete that right now!”

“nah y/n, i’m putting this in the blackmail folder”

“CHOI SAN”

tbh you thought being san’s model would feel awkward, but he actually made you feel super comfortable

he would always tell you that you were doing great, giving you a thumbs up after every picture that was taken

you enjoyed having san be your hype man, he made you feel really confident in yourself

during one of your sessions, san wanted to get a few posed pictures instead of candid, so he took you to one of the open fields on campus

it was the middle of autumn so the trees were a beautiful shade of bright oranges, maroons, and vivid yellows

san told you to stand underneath one of the trees

“okay so for this one, i want you to look away from the camera, and i’ll snap a couple photos, yeah?”

you nodded your head and proceeded to pose against the tree, eyes focusing on anything except the camera

meanwhile, san was moving back and forth and side to side, trying to capture multiple angles, some close up and some farther away

“alright y/n, for these next ones i want you to stare directly in the camera. you can choose whether to smile or not, okay?”

san readied himself, placing the viewfinder over his right eye

through it he could see you, still posing nearby the tree

however, san’s many years of experience with photography wasn’t enough to prepare him for what was to happen next

because as soon as your eyes made contact with the camera, there was a soft gust of wind, soft enough to carry a few fallen leaves and have them float around you

caught off guard by the sudden flurry of leaves, a quiet gasp left your lips, and then your eyes scrunched together as you let out the softest giggle

and then click

san’s finger froze on the shutter button, his mouth gaping slightly

he slowly lowered the camera from his face, eyes glazed over and mouth still open

you hadn’t noticed him take the picture, too focused on playing with the leaves flying around you

san tore his eyes away from you for just a moment, glancing down at his camera to check the picture he just took

what he saw made him choke on his breath

because there you were

he captured the picture at the exact moment you had burst into a bout of giggles, the multi-colored leaves were blurred near the edges, framing your face perfectly

the sun hit the surface of your skin perfectly, highlighting your features

your eyes were scrunched shut and your lips were quirked up, displaying the most perfect smile

for the first time in his, choi san was rendered...speechless

he had never seen something so...so...beautiful

“san?” your voice knocked him out of his stupor, and he whipped his head up to look at you, only to be rendered speechless again

you were staring at him with the softest of gazes, a gentle, serene smile on your lips

“how’d the picture look?” you asked curiously

san didn’t say anything, but his mind was racing with a billion thoughts

his lack of a response made you nervous, and you frowned “did...did it not turn out well? was it because i wasn’t looking? i’m sorry i can take it again if—”

“no!” san interrupted, standing up quickly

“no y/n, it was...it was perfect,” he breathed out

the look on his face and the tone of his voice were enough to make your cheeks flush a deep, deep red

you’ve never seen or heard san sound like that

it almost seemed like he was...he was...

“o-oh, do you mind if i see it then?” you asked, taking a small step towards him

san had allowed you to see the pictures, and you were amazed at how well they turned out

you turned to san and gave him a playful smile “wow, you were right. you did make me look ‘absolutely breathtaking’”

you were expecting san to scoff or say smth along the lines of “i told you so”

but he didn’t

instead he looked at you with the most sincere expression on his face, and he said “no, you did that on your own”

the sky was beginning to darken, so the two of you decided to head back to your apartments, bidding each other goodbye at the elevator

as soon as san reached his apartment, he practically shoved the door open and ran inside, scaring the shit out of poor wooyoung who was watching a movie in the living room

san didn’t even bother sending his roommate a greeting, opting to flee to his own room instead and slamming the door shut

he immediately whipped out his camera, took out the memory card, and inserted it into his laptop

the pictures he took of you earlier popped up on the screen, and san’s eyes immediately scanned for the one he wanted

once he found it, he enlarged the photo and, for the third time that day, choi san was rendered speechless

his chest began to hurt, and he reached up, clutching at the fabric of his sweater right above his heart

now...san had always had an inkling in his mind that he may have the tiniest crush on you

but he always waved it off, claiming that he just really liked you as a friend

but after what happened today, he can finally confirm it

choi san liked you

and they weren’t the trivial kind, the ones that lasted for only a moment and left soon after

no, these feelings burned with longing

but unlike most people, those who chose to deny their feelings and keep it to themselves, san was the complete opposite

he wasn’t the type to shy away from something, or in this case someone, who made him feel such strong emotions

he was going to do something about it...and he knew exactly how to do it

for the remaining weeks left in the month, san still took pictures of you for the assignment

but it was different this time

instead of his usual loud exclamations he used to hype you up, it was replaced with the fond smiles and eyes practically dripping with adoration

you didn’t know how to feel about this new development, but that didn’t mean you didn’t like it

it was nearing the end of the month, which meant that san’s project was reaching its end too

the two of you were having lunch together, just chatting about random things, when san suddenly pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket, handing it to you

“what’s this?” you asked, taking the slip of paper and reading it

“it’s an invitation. my class is putting on an exhibit to showcase the photos we’ve taken the past month, but it’s a private event so only people who were given invitations are allowed in.” san leaned forward, gazing at you with a soft twinkle in his eye

“will you go?” he asked

you nodded, smiling “of course, i’ve been waiting to see how the pictures turned out!”

san laughed at your enthusiasm, but he could feel the pounding of his heart going a mile a minute

a few days later was when the exhibition took place, and you arrived at the gallery, decked out in the fanciest clothes you could find

after the guard checked over your invitation, you walked inside and was surprised at the sheer number of people who were present

you looked around, searching for the familiar dimpled smile you’ve grown very fond of

“well, well, well look who finally showed up” 

your face broke out into a smile when you saw wooyoung walk up to, dressed in a fitted button up with black slacks

“damn woo, first time seeing you in something other than a hoodie and sweats,” you teased,

wooyoung rolled his eyes in response, but he held out his hand for you

“come on, sannie is waiting for you”

you happily placed your hand in his, eager to see san’s display, and wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm

he led you around the exhibit, carefully maneuvering around the large clumps of people until he finally stopped at a door

wooyoung opened it and gently tugged on your arm, moving your body in front of his

you looked over your shoulder at him, confusion written all over your face “wooyoung what are you—”

but before you could finish your sentence, wooyoung shoved you the rest of the way in the room, flashing you a wink before closing the door, leaving you standing in the darkness

“wha—jung wooyoung!” you reached for the doorknob, about to yank the door open

when the lights in the room suddenly switched on

you gasped, stepping back from the door and whipping your body around

what you saw made you freeze

because displayed on the walls of the room were blown up pictures of you

some were candid, and some were posed

it took you a second, but then you realized: these were the pictures san took of your for his project

you carefully walked towards one of the pictures posted on the wall

you remembered when it was taken; it was when you and san went to a cat cafe near the school

you were sitting at one of the tables, playing with a cat that decided to jump up on your lap

san thought it would be the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of that moment, and so he did

as you walked around, the memories of the past month with san started coming back to you

once you reached the middle of the room, you noticed a picture that was significantly larger than the rest

you let out a soft gasp

it was the picture san took of you in front of the tree a few weeks ago

you could hardly believe that the person in the photo was you

“which one’s your favorite?”

jumping at the sound of an oh so familiar voice, you peered over your shoulder only to see san leaning against one of the walls

he was decked out in an outfit similar to wooyoung’s, with his hair slicked back

needless to say...he looked amazing

you breathed out a laugh, fully turning around to look at him “it’s hard to choose. i just look amazing in every single one”

san’s smirk softened into a smile, and he pushed himself off the wall, making his way towards you

“which one’s your favorite sannie?” you asked

san bit his lip, cocking his head to the side

“hmm...i’d have to say all of them”

you giggled “is that so? why do you say that?”

san glanced over at you, and you almost choked on your breath at the look on his face

it was the same look he always gave you from behind the camera: pure, pure, pure adoration

you’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t racing a mile a minute

san reached over, taking your hand in his and locking your fingers together

your eyes widened

san took a small step towards you, internally sighing with relief when you didn’t back away

you just stood there, waiting to see what he was about to do next

“they’re all my favorite because....” another step closer “...because you’re in them”

and that was the exact moment your heart stopped

san chuckled softly at your frozen state, and he brought your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the top of yours

you swore your legs were about to give up

“people are about to come in any second now to see my display, but if you’re willing to wait for me until after, then i have something really important to tell you,” san said

you were at a loss for words, your mind stuck trying to process everything that just happened in a span of two minutes

just as san let go of your hand, the door to the room opened and wooyoung’s head popped in

“hey san, are you ready? people are waiting”

flashing you one more smile, san swiftly turned on his heel and nodded, gesturing for wooyoung to let people in

as soon as the crowd started filtering into the room, you were broken out of your frozen state by wooyoung gently pulling you to the other side of the room

and for the rest of the night, you stood in the back corner with wooyoung, quietly watching san walk around and the room and chatting with the people as they observed his work

you admit you were kind of embarrassed at the amount of people who were just staring at your pictures posted on the wall

wooyoung would notice and he’d tease you about it

after a while, the exhibition finally came to an end

wooyoung had left a few minutes earlier, which left only you and san in the room

as san made his way over to you, you averted your eyes to the ground, suddenly feeling awkward

but then you saw san extend his hand out towards you

“let’s talk outside,” he said softly, quietly encouraging you when you were hesitant to take his hand

once the two of you were outside, san led you to a nearby bench

despite his confidence from earlier, you could tell san was nervous now, from the way he was biting his lip and fiddling with your hand, which he was still holding

you waited patiently for him to speak, choosing to ignore the way your heart was about to explode inside your chest

after a few moments, san took a deep breath and looked directly into your eyes

“y/n...you know how much our friendship means to me right? when you and i first became friends, i was so happy to have finally met someone who shares the same love and passion for photography as i do. i truly enjoyed every moment we hung out together, and i especially enjoyed having you as my model for my project...”

he squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his back, urging him to continue

“and during the entire month where we spent every single day together, it made me realize that...i wanted us to be something more than...more than just friends. so what i’m trying to say is, i really really like you y/n, and i was wondering if we could give ‘us’ a try?”

it was completely silent for a few moments, but as san gazed at you with the most hopeful look on his face, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh

you honestly didn’t know what you were feeling, all you knew was that it was warm and comforting and that the only person who could make you feel that way was...san

“choi san, you are just as expressive with your words as you are with your photos,” you laughed, and you swore you’ve never seen him smile so big

“s-so does that mean...?” he trailed off

you smiled back at him, squeezing his hand once more “yes san, i am willing to give us a try”

now let’s just say, being in a relationship with choi san was so...refreshing

in the beginning of, you were kind of worried that things were going to change between the two of you

but when you saw san the next day, he greeted you with his usual sunshiney smile and that’s when you knew things were only going to get better from that point on

san is normally very touchy, but now that the two of you were dating, he became extra touchy

whenever the two of you are together, he’ll always have an arm around your shoulder or waist, or he’ll be holding your hand

he just feels more at ease if he’s holding onto some part of you

but of course he’d stop if you told him you were uncomfortable

also san would take a picture of you every chance he could get

the camera roll in his phone would just be pictures of you

he even made his own folder with just your pictures but would he ever tell you??? psshh no

one time wooyoung caught a glimpse of it and he snatched the phone out of san’s hand so quick, yelling that he was going to show you

when you came by their apartment that day, you walked in on the two of them in the middle of a wrestling match

wooyoung managed to toss the phone to you, and you caught it, checking to see what the two of them were fighting about

once you saw what it was, you blushed so hard and san groaned in defeat, rolling off of wooyoung and onto the floor

as you scrolled through the folder, you started to pout

“saaaan some of these are so ugly why do you still have them?”

your boyfriend whipped his head up so fast, and he had the most offended look on his face

“excuse me?? are you doubting my photography skills?”

you shoved the phone in his face “san this is literally a blurry picture of me mid-sneeze how could this possibly look good?”

but what he doesnt know is that you also have your own folder on your phone with just pictures of him in it

omg when the professor found out that the two of you were dating, the hugest grin broke out on his face and he was just oh so happy his two favorite students were together

when you and san are in the darkroom together, he’ll sometimes walk up behind you and just wrap his arms around you while you were developing your pictures

you’d always complain, claiming that he was distracting you, but tbh you secretly enjoyed it

you and san haven’t had your first kiss with each other yet, and that was because you were both too hesitant to be the one to make the move first

until one night

san had invited you to his apartment for a movie marathon since wooyoung was spending the night at yeosang’s

whilst san was getting the tv set up, you were sitting on the chair at his desk, mindlessly just looking around

you’ve been in san’s room countless times at this point, and pretty much everything looked the same since the last time you’ve been in there

but when you looked up at the wall above his desk, the same wall where san hung up a bunch of pictures of his friends and family, you noticed that there was an extra picture right in the center

your heart skipped a beat when you realized that it was the same picture san took months ago, the one where you were standing underneath the tree

you remembered what san had told you the first time you asked about the wall: “i use that wall to hang pictures of the people who are important to me”

san was too busy fidgeting with the tv to notice the look of pure joy on your face

“okay everything’s set up,” he turned towards you “y/n what movie do you wanna—mmph!”

san’s question was cut off by you throwing yourself into his arms and slamming your lips into yours

he staggered backwards, caught off guard

san was frozen for a few seconds, but then he relaxed and began to kiss you back

it was your first kiss with him and vice versa, and you could practically feel your heart getting ready to burst

when the two of you pulled away, san leaned his forehead against yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

“not that i’m complaining, but what was that for?”

you smiled at him “i’m just happy that i’m worthy enough to be put on your wall”

san’s face dawned with realization and he let out a breathy chuckle, tugging you closer to him and wrapping you up in a hug

“you were always worthy enough, it just took me stupidly long to realize it”

oh yeah san loves that picture of you so much that he made it his lockscreen and wooyoung wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for weeks

ofc you made him your lockscreen too

now don’t get me wrong, san is the absolute best hype man you could ever ask for

but sometimes a hype man needs their own hype man

so on days where san isn’t feeling like his usual cheerful self, you step up

now you’re the one feeding him compliments and giving him the warmest hugs

and when that doesn’t work, one of san’s weaknesses is kisses so you’ll cup his face in your hands and just plant the tiniest kisses on his cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, and eyes

it usually gets him in a giddy mood and he’ll eventually start giggling halfway through

when you see him crack that first smile, you get all excited and he just stares at you with the fondest expression on his face

san also likes it when you play with his hair, so he’ll lay his head on your lap and that’s when you know to just weave your fingers through his dark strands, occasionally massaging his scalp

you laugh because san reminds you of a cat whenever he lays on you

speaking of cats, the two of you practically adopted all of the cats that wander around campus

the two of you are honestly just so domestic and soft, everyone at your university practically melts when they see the two of you walking around holding hands

overall just a wholesome wholesome relationship

[sxfterhearts]

20. [9:40 am]

28A… 29A… Ah, 30A! You thought to yourself as your eyes glanced over the seat numbers slightly above your line of sight, your feet finally coming to a stop beside your reserved seat.

Much to your dismay, it was a window seat, facing in the opposite direction of the train’s movements. It was also one of the few face-to-face seats on the entire KTX train, with a table between the two pairs of seats which were facing each other.

You groaned internally. As much as you liked having a proper surface for writing or doodling in your journal, you didn’t like sharing. You much preferred having your own privacy while glancing out the windows, watching the greenery and the countryside pass by in a colourful blur, with soft tunes to accompany you on your journey. It’s fine, you reminded yourself, trying to stay positive, it’s only two hours, no big deal…

You hauled your backpack over your head and into the overhead compartment with practiced movements. Pulling out your travel necessities, which included your fully-charged phone, a pair of wireless earphones, a large, ice-cold Americano and your trusty journal, you settled into your seat for the rest of the morning. A part of you wished that the seat in front of you wouldn’t be occupied, while another part of you contemplated whether it was better to just try and fall asleep for the remainder of the train ride to Gangneung.

You quickly dismissed the latter thought, as the scenery throughout the train ride was too good to miss. You could deal with a couple of awkward silences and accidental glances with the unlucky stranger who reserved the seat opposite yours. Besides, it was your first time visiting your parents in two months – you weren’t going to let anything sour your mood.

The last-minute trip to Gangneung, your hometown, was planned just two days ago, as you were graciously granted two days of paid leave by your manager. After finally submitting the last tax return for your clients, your manager had treated the entire team to a congratulatory dinner and gave everyone a few days of leave to make up for the never-ending client meetings and late nights spent slaving away at the office desk during the tax busy season. You were overwhelmed with joy once your manager announced the news, pulling her usually stoic self into a tight embrace under the yellow glow of  the pojangmacha, a tent bar selling alcohol and street food, due to the heightened levels of alcohol within your system.

Giggling to yourself at the memory, you reached out for your phone and typed a message to your mother to inform her that you were about to depart Seoul. It was a message that she read and replied immediately with her usual “Be careful, dear, and have a safe journey.”, which you missed dearly during the busy season. On off-periods, you would make the effort to visit your parents once a fortnight. You moved to Seoul for university a few years back and found a job in the bustling city, leaving your parents and the family’s bicycle store behind in the coastal neighbourhood. Sometime in your early twenties, your father experienced a mild health scare and had to close the store during his month-long recovery. This made you realise that as the years went by, your parents were not getting any younger. With that in mind, you tried to clear your hectic schedule to spend as much time with your parents as possible.

“This is the 10:01am number 811 KTX train bound for Gangneung. The train will be departing shortly.”

The familiar female voice flooded the carriages of the train and distracted you from your thoughts. The seat in front of you was still unoccupied. You held on to the tiny glimmer of hope that it would remain that way for the rest of the journey, despite knowing very well that the summer holidays were approaching, turning Gangneung into an ideal weekend getaway for tourists and locals alike. The prospect of spending the next few days basking in the summer sunshine, helping out at the bicycle store and frolicking in the sea excited you to no end. After long hours cooped up in the office, you were looking forward to spending your break in the great outdoors.

“28… 29… 30, 31! Here it is, Mark, 31A and 31B. Dibs the window seat!” A cheerful voice spoke in English, pulling you out of your delightful daydream. Before you could turn your head to face its owner, a bright streak of reflected rainbow dancing across the table caught your eye.

“Okay, Bella,” A deep chuckle originated from the man standing beside your seat. “Wait a sec, pass me your bag, honey.”

Your eyes traced the source of the deep timbre notes of the American-sounding voice. What you found was a man, dressed in an oversized white shirt and black ripped jeans, who was placing the girl’s pink Barbie bag into the overhead compartment. Even though he was wearing a cap, you could make out his cherubic features and the gentle smile he directed towards the girl.

The thought that he was a bit too young to have a daughter crossed your mind for a split second, but you quickly shook it off to return the little girl’s excited smile with a polite wave. She was wearing a cute pink dress and looked to be about six or seven years old. The pair got comfortable in their seats, just as the announcement informed the passengers the doors were closing.

The man sitting diagonally opposite of you took off his cap to reveal a head of blonde hair. He met your gaze, and you watched as a surprised look flashed across his face. As the two of you exchanged polite greetings, you couldn’t shake off the thought that you had seen him somewhere before.

A phone chirped, signalling an incoming call. It was a call for him. He answered it, and you looked out the window to give him some privacy and not seem too nosy. You wracked your brain for answers. Did he work at the café I frequented? Or was it the Chinese restaurant that I ordered takeaways from? No… You mused silently. Maybe he’s the cashier at the convenience store near the apartment… But that doesn’t seem right either. Wait, is he-?

“Bell, your Mummy wants to speak to you.”

“Yes, Mummy! Mark said…”

You drowned out the rest of the conversation to refocus your thinking. You sneaked another glance at the man in question, only to find half of his face covered by his laptop screen as he tapped away furiously. It seems like it’s him… You adjusted your position several times to get a better look at his face without seeming too suspicious. Blonde hair and shiny helix piercing, it must be him.

The person you were referring to was someone you’ve only ever seen from afar. There was usually a safe distance between you two on your morning subway ride to the office, with him leaning casually against a pole and you standing steadily in the middle of the crowd. The closest you’ve been to him was when you were running late, and you happened to share the elevator with a blonde-haired man from the eighth floor of your apartment. He always had the top button of his crisp button-up undone, a tie hanging haphazardly over one shoulder and his headphones sitting snugly atop his blonde head, while munching on a piece of burnt toast. You had never encountered this strange gentleman until mid-May, so you assumed that he had recently moved into the floor below you. The two of you never exchanged words either, as he was always busy shoving down his breakfast, but you would always bow politely to each other. Unbeknownst to him, you were intrigued. Not many office workers were brave enough to sport such a striking hair colour, and you had to admit, it suited him perfectly.

You just never expected him to have a child.

“Mark!” The girl, Bella, whined while grabbing his hand. Your ears were still getting accustomed to hearing English after so long. The last time you were surrounded by native speakers was during your six-month-long secondment to the New York branch of your company. “Do my hair, pretty please! I want two braids.”

The man, Mark, sighed in fake annoyance, playfully poking her cheeks. “Yes, Your Highness. Hand over your other hair tie.” A part of you wasn’t used to how the girl didn’t address him with honorifics, but you busied yourself with your phone, pretending that you weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I thought you took them for me when we left your house.” She huffed, clearly unsatisfied.

“Nope, I only have one with me.”

Your fingers reached for the simple, black hair tie around your wrist. “Here, you can borrow mine.” Smiling, you handed it over to Bella, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

Mark leaned down to whisper in her ear, unable to hide the surprised smile on his face. “Thank the pretty eonnie in Korean.”

“Thank you, eonnie!” Bella chirped, so excited that she was practically bouncing in her seat.

“You’re most welcome.” You said in perfect English, intrigued at Mark’s earlier interaction with the girl.

He proceeded to divide her hair into two even halves, combing her dark locks with long, thin fingers. Expertly, Mark separated the first half into three parts and began to braid. He stuck out his tongue cutely in concentration, trying his best to not mess up.

“Don’t move so much, Bell.” He scolded lightly when the girl pulled out her colouring book and painted the sky a light shade of blue with large strokes of her coloured pencil.

“You’re pretty good at this. Mark, right?” You commented.

“Yeah, guess it comes with practice. I’m Mark, by the way. We never got to introduce each other properly. Your name is…?”

“Y/N.”

“Ah yes, Y/N. It suits you well. Always so prim and proper in your blazer and kitten heels. I must seem like a fool to you, with my tie undone and all.”

You laughed at his self-deprecating humour. This man is funny, and he can braid hair. His wife sure is a lucky woman, you thought. “No, not at all. Where do you work?”

Light conversation regarding your respective careers ensued. You found out that he was also working at a company close to yours, which explained the frequent encounters on the train. He moved in about a month ago from another side of the city because of his new job. When the conversation about work dwindled, you shifted the topic to the girl.

“How old is she?”

Mark secured the first braid with your hair tie, smiling to himself, satisfied. “Bella, how old are you?”

“I’m six, Mark! How could you forget?” The girl sat up from her position to shoot daggers with her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Come, turn to the other side so I can finish this up.” He moved her to sit facing the window instead and starting on the second braid. “She’s six,” Mark turned to you and answered with a sheepish expression. Before you started to wonder what kind of father would forget his daughter’s age, he continued, “Bella doesn’t visit very often.”

Your eyebrows quirked upwards in response. Does that mean he was… divorced?

Mark saw your confused expression and hastened to add, “She’s my niece.” You let out a breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. “My sister and her family came over from LA to visit me.”

It all made sense to you now. “Right…”

“Her parents wanted some alone time so I’m taking her to Gangneung for a day trip cos she wants to visit Jumunjin beach and take some pictures.” He paused, and went on to mouth, “She loves BTS.”

“The bus stop near the beach? The one on their album cover?” You wondered, knowing exactly which photo spot he was referring to. “It’s about a bit of a drive from my parent’s bicycle shop. I took a couple of days off to visit them.”

“You’ve seen the bus stop? That’s so cool!” Bella’s ears perked up.

“Sit still, honey.” Mark reminded sternly as he got closer to the end of the braid.

You nodded eagerly. “Yup! They’ve got a map of a BTS bus route with their album names as the bus stops.”

“Don’t encourage her, Y/N…” Mark groaned as he tied the second braid. He inspected his handiwork and seemed very proud of himself.

“Well, I have a suggestion,” You started carefully. “How about this? I can be your local tour guide for Gangneung today. I can show you the best photo spots, the most popular places to get your daily coffee fix and even get you a discount for bike rentals so you can cycle around the beach and the lake!”

The two of them nodded eagerly at your proposition.

//

It was a long, eventful day. The three of you had visited a hanok café, took way too many pictures at the Jumunjin bus stop and breakwater where they filmed Goblin, dipped your toes in Gyeongpo Beach and cycled around Gyeongpo lake. Your parents had immediately taken a liking to your new friend Mark and his cute niece, even insisting on packing them a container full of kimbap and banana milk for their journey back to Seoul.

“Thank you so, so much for today, Y/N.” Mark whispered as the three of you sat at the train station, waiting for their train. Bella had already dozed off with her head on Mark’s lap. It was an adorable sight. “We both had a lot of fun.”

“Not a problem at all. I enjoyed showing you around and visiting touristy places. I got to see my hometown in a different light.” You faced him, giving him a sincere smile.

He returned you with an equally bright smile that showed off his cute, pointy canines. “Let me take you out for dinner or something. You know, to make it up to you.” Mark’s ears began to heat up and were painted in a faint tinge of red. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

“Sure!” You replied. Was he asking me out on a date? You wondered. “I’ve been craving sticky barbecue ribs since I left the States.”

“I know a good place. How about next Saturday night?”

“I’m free.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 10

Series Masterlist 

A/N:  Italics are your thoughts. I linked some of the outfits, and gifts so you have an idea of what I was thinking in case you’re interested. I don’t

Summary: You give birth to your son and move down to Pittsburgh. You have your first Christmas as a family.

Warnings: Swearing, child birth, fluff, masturbation, Freddie as a dad – not really warning worthy but its super cute J

Word Count: 4035

Chapter 10

November 8, 2021

 A few days later movers came and took everything to Fred’s old place in Toronto. Your lease is up and you planned on staying at his condo, but since you decided to go to Pittsburgh you have to go through your boxes and determine what to bring with you and what to put in storage. Mostly you are sending your clothes and a few boxes of pictures.

He has you look online though for a few items for your son. Just some basic items, change table, bassinet. Fred already has diapers, bottles and a car seat and he says once you are settled you both can go and get whatever else he needs but he just needs some stuff to make do for a few weeks. With you breast feeding he will be starting off in a bassinet in your room, before being moved to his crib when he gets older. You label the boxes with storage and ship labels for the movers.

You have a doctor’s appointment so Fred asked Auston to oversee the movers. You could have gotten one of your friends to come over but Fred insisted on Auston saying he only lived a few floors away so it was easier then someone driving across town through Toronto traffic.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” you lift an eyebrow at him. “Like how do you fit behind the wheel, you’re already so short so you can’t slide the seat back too far." 

You laugh “yeah it’s a little tight now and uncomfortable. I only drive if I have to.”

“I can drop you off and pick you up. We have time before the movers come.” You think about it for a second before agreeing. “Not having a steering wheel rammed into my stomach sounds nice.”

“So you excited to not be pregnant?” He asks pulling out of the parking garage.

“You have no idea. I’m over it. I’ve loved being pregnant for the most part but now I just want him out. I want to meet him and see if he took Fred’s hair" 

Auston laughs “little red" 

“What?”

“Oh we call Fred big red, so when I found out it was a boy I started calling him little red. I’m really hoping he has red hair.”

You laugh “yeah I hope so too.”

“So when are you going to Pittsburgh?”

“Well I’m hoping this little guy comes soon and then I can fly down with him during the couple days he has off for American Thanksgiving. My due date is the 18th, so I’m just hoping he doesn’t come late. It will be nice to have a couple days to get settled with Fred before hockey starts up again” 

“Yeah, for sure. Fred is really happy you are going to Pittsburgh. I mean he had a 42 shot shutout against us. I would have preferred you tell him after the game so we might have been able to get one or 2 by him, but when he told me after the game he couldn’t stop smiling.” 

“Yeah, part of being a parent is always putting them first and doing what’s best for them. Being around his dad all the time is best. They both need it, and I can take 18 months off so it gives them a lot of time together.”

“Right” he gives you a sideways glance as he pulls up to the clinic “call when you’re done.” 

 Nov 11, 2021 6:00 P.M

You sit on the couch Facetiming with Fred.  

“So I got this bottle warming thing a mom on the team told me about, and a diaper genie. I didn’t know what pump you wanted though, there wasn’t one on the list and I had no idea what to look for. So many brands and features, I felt really out of place at the store.”

“Yeah my friends bought me one and some outfits. Instead of a baby shower we had brunch a few weekends ago.” 

“Okay, do you think we will need anything else right now?” 

“I don’t think so, we have all the” you stop mid-sentence as pain radiates your stomach “aaaah" you take some deep breaths. “(Y/N) you okay?”  

A few seconds later the pain leaves “That was weird. Anyways I was saying that we can get anything else lat -" 

“You just going to pretend that didn’t happen? That might have been a contraction.” 

“Well if it was I need more than one to go to the hospital. Have to time them and if they are around 8 minutes apart I think that’s when I go. He stays on the phone and 16 minutes later you have another one. He keeps timing them and you hear him typing something on his laptop when there is a knock. 

You waddle to the door and see Auston “Fred text said to come and you’d need a ride to the hospital soon.”

“I’m at 14 minutes. I need to be at 8 so still lots of time.” You respond before Fred chimes in “I got to go I’ll talk to you later. But Auston don’t listen to her. She has a bag packed by the door take her to the hospital now.”  

“Fred I’m –“  

“No, go to the hospital. These things can take hours but they can also speed up quickly. I’d rather Auston not deliver my baby in my living room because this sped up and you ran out of time to get to the hospital.”

“Yeah I also am in favour of that not happening.” He grabs your phone hanging up from Fred. He helps you put your coat and boots on, grabbing your hospital bag. “Let’s get that baby out of you" 

He drives you, and comes in with you.  As you get admitted he briefly wanders away to take a phone call before joining you to the room. He sits on the chair beside you and pulls his phone out.

“You don’t have to stay; it’s not your baby" 

“I’m not leaving you alone, besides I promised Fred." 

Is he going to stay during the delivery? Like he has to leave sometime soon right?

 November 12, 2021 - 12:30 am

The anesthesiologist enters the room. “So you are about 8 min apart, how are you feeling?”

“Sore everything is sore. My uterus feels like there is bowling balls being thrown against it all the time. I’m hungry but am only allowed to eat ice chips, which if were being honest isn’t food. So I’m doing great.”

“Well I can’t help with the hunger but I can the pain. Sorry it took so long to get here, but would you like an epidural?”

After you agree Auston steps out of the room briefly. He returns when the doctor leaves.

“Didn’t want to give all natural a shot, I’ve heard it’s not that bad” he states almost laughing. You know he is joking, but you’re not really in the mood. You’re honestly slightly agitated he is still there, would rather be alone then with someone you barely know. “I’m sorry do you have a uterus?”

“No”

“Then maybe keep your opinion on my birth plan to yourself.” You hear a familiar laugh on the other side of the room.

“It’s a good thing I asked you to come, get all the stupid comments out of the way now. So when you have kids one day you won’t piss of your wife” Fred laughs walking into the room.

“What are you -?”

“You honestly didn’t think I would miss this did you? Would have been here sooner but flight was delayed” he interjects kissing your forehead. “Be right back” him and Auston head into the hallway. He returns a few minutes later alone. “How are you doing?” he asks sitting in the seat Auston had been using.

“I’m alright, it’s been like 6 hours and I’m sore, hungry and tired. I’m not allowed to eat so I have to stay hungry, but I could really use a nap but I just can’t get comfortable enough to sleep.” Fred gets up and slides in behind you gently and puts his hand on your leg as you lean back “this might help” you mumble. His hand leaves your leg and starts stroking your hair from your face. “You sure, if I’m in your way or if you get uncomfortable I can move.” As he finishes you nod off.

2:30 A.M.

You are woken by Fred gently shaking you, as he whispers your name. “(Y/N) they are here to do an exam, see how you are doing.” He eases back into the chair as you shift.

“Well you are about 6cm” the nurse says as she leaves the room.

“6, how am I only six centimetres? I need this baby outtt!” you scream.

Fred laughs grabbing your hand. He brings it to his lips giving it a light kiss. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you should be, you did this to me with your sperm. I’m here in this pain because you got me pregnant.” Another contraction courses through you. He snickers again “If I could take this pain away for you I would in a heartbeat.”

“You couldn’t handle this.”

This causes him to burst out laughing “probably right, want some ice chips?” You nod and he leaves the room.

1:00 P.M.

“Well it looks like it’s just about time to start pushing” the doctor says after completing the exam. “Ready to become parents?” he leaves the room for a few minutes. Fred looks over to you “this is it (Y/N/N).”

“Nope! This isn’t it.” He gives you a confused look “I’m not ready. He is just going to have to stay put a little bit longer. I don’t’ think I can do this, push a human out of me, and become a mom -“

The doctor and birthing crew have returned and wait by the door. “(Y/N/N) come on, you can do this I have no doubt. You have grown this human inside you for 9 months. You have been incredible during all this and have gone through so much and there is just a little bit more and you are a mom. And you’ll be a damn good one too. I have no doubt that you can do this” You just stare at him “okay, let’s do this.”

4:00 PM

You are lying in the bed, eyes fixed on the beautiful baby boy in your arms. Fred is sitting on the bed beside you his arm around you. “He’s perfect” Fred whispers touching his tiny hand. “Yeah he is” you reply rocking the baby.

A nurse comes over to you “do we have a name for Mr. handsome?”

“Uh no” Fred replies “We never found one we liked, thought once he was born something would stick” “That’s okay we’ll just write baby (Y/L/N) for now” the nurse replies as she turns to leave.

“No,” you say “baby Andersen.” Fred’s arm around you tightens as the nurse leaves. He looks into your eyes with tears forming in his.

“You don’t have to do that (Y/N)”

“Is this baby an Andersen?” You question and Fred nods “then his last name will be Andersen.”

Fred kisses your head “now we just need a first name, although I did like Mr. Handsome.”

This causes you to laugh slightly “I need a nap, than we can pick a name.”

Nov 13, 2021

You got back from the hospital not too long ago, Fred has to leave the following morning, it’s been a whirlwind, but you are happy to be home. Fred has Mitch, Steph and Auston stopping by briefly to meet the baby. He tried to cancel to allow you time to rest but you wouldn’t have it, saying this is likely the only time they could see him until Toronto plays in Pittsburgh.

“Oh my goodness he is just perfect” Steph exclaims as she holds him. Mitch leans over and grabs his baby finger and smiles before looking up at you “crazy how this happened because you two got drunk.” Everyone laughs as Steph elbows him in the rib.

“Mitchell!” She yells “what’s his name?”

“Oliver Charles Andersen” Fred says.

December 10, 2021

You have been living at Fred’s for about 2 weeks, the move to Pittsburgh went smoothly. He chartered a small plane for the two of you. After the thanksgiving break Fred had mostly home games, which made the transition pretty smooth.

Oliver has been waking up a couple times in the night, and around 6am in the mornings with you. You have been trying to pump so Freddie can help with the feedings when available but your body is taking longer to produce enough milk, so most feedings have been you. He still wakes up throughout the night and sits with you when he hears Oliver, even on game nights. Oliver has been sleeping in his bassinet beside your bed to make things easier, you try to keep him quiet when he cries during the night but Freddie always hears him and sits with you.

This morning you wake at 9:30, very alarming. You look into the bassinet and it’s empty. You jump up and head to the living room and see a shirtless Fred sitting on the couch with baby Oliver sleeping on his chiseled chest. Fred smiles as you walk in “there is coffee if you want some.”

“Thanks. When did you get him?”

“Around 7 he started fussing, so I went in and got him. You had a little bit of milk in the fridge I gave him.”

“Thanks, I needed those couple hours. When do you have to leave for practice?”

“You don’t have to thank me for doing what any dad should do. And I have the day off.” He pauses for a minute “so it’s getting close to Christmas, I was wondering if you were planning on going back to Toronto for the break?”

“No I don’t think so. I don’t have any siblings and my parents aren’t around. My grandparents are in Europe but have a cruise leaving the 28th so it’s not worth visiting now.” You also didn’t want Ollie to not have both his parents around, not that he would remember but it was his first Christmas. “You have any plans? Family coming down?”

“Nope, I haven’t talked to them much since the summer.”

“Fred I know it’s not my place, but you should talk to them. It’s not a big deal what your dad said to me, honestly I wasn’t that upset about it. But you should think about talking to them, you never know what will happen.

“This isn’t really over what he said to you, some stuff happened after you left Denmark.” He quickly changes the subject “so it looks like it will be just the 3 of us.” You nod staring at his bare chest, your mouth watering “Want to do anything special for his first Christmas?”

“We need a Christmas tree” you exclaim “Like a really big one, 9 feet or something!”

“I have a fake one I normally put up” he says looking at your face as you scrunch your nose “but that clearly won’t do.”

“My parents and I used to go out every year and cut down a tree and then spend the afternoon decorating it and the rest of the house. It was like Santa’s village. Then my parents died and I went to live with my dad’s parents, since my mom’s died a few years before that. My dad was Jewish, and his parents hated that we celebrated Christmas even though my mom was Christian. So I haven’t celebrated Christmas in a while but I always thought when I had a family I’d resume…” you trail off starting to realize this isn’t a family, and that you shouldn’t really create these traditions since some years you may not see your son on Christmas.

Fred stands up, grabbing your hand “Go get ready and we’ll go get a tree.”

It took a bit too get to get everything ready and packed, underestimated packing up a new baby. You wear a pair of knee high black boots with your jeans tucked in “surprised these fit” you whisper as you head to your closet and pull out a white cashmere sweater and tuck the front into your pants before pairing it with a long beige coat and a white toque. You finally head out to the farm, Oliver sleeping in the car seat.

When you arrive at the farm Fred removes Oliver’s car seat and attaches it to a sled before covering him in a couple blankets. You begin walking around the farm looking for the perfect tree. When you finally find it, Fred just stops walking and stares at you. “This is it” you whisper.

“You know” Fred starts “this is Ollie’s first time out” looking down at you. He pulls his phone out and you all take a selfie in front of the tree you picked, big smiles on your faces as Oliver is fast asleep.

You later arrive back home, exhausted. “I didn’t realize taking a baby out was so tiring.” You yawn as Oliver begins to fuss, as you groan reaching into the car seat to unbuckle him. “I can get him” Fred offers, “you don’t have boobs” you respond causing him to laugh.

He follows you to your bed getting you a nursing blanket and your nursing pillow. You sit resting against the head board as Fred sits beside you, you begin feeding Oliver as you doze off. You wake up a little bit later with Oliver in his bassinet and you lying with your head on Fred’s chest, his arm around you resting on your waist. You feel Freddie begin to stir as you look up to his eyes “hey” you whisper. His arm tightens around your waist “hey” he says pulling you closer he kisses your head.

December 25, 2021

It’s Christmas morning, you wake up at 6:00 with Oliver, Fred is still asleep as you make some coffee. You feed Oliver, and change him into his Christmas outfit, a white onesie that says “my first Christmas” with a matching plaid set of pants and hat that have little Christmas trees and reindeers on them. You look to the clock, as your sons big brown eyes look up at you, Fred’s brown eyes “want to go see daddy?” you ask him he smiles. You head to the kitchen making two coffees before you head to Fred’s room.

You slowly open the door and see Fred lying on his back with no shirt, his duvet resting near his waist. His shirt has risen up slightly and you can see a small part of his abs. You set the coffees on his side table as Fred’s eyes flutter open “Merry Christmas” you say, as he shifts to sit up in bed. His eyes are still somewhat heavy, his red hair is a mess from sleeping. You pass Oliver to him as Fred leans down to kiss his sons head “Merry Christmas big buy” he says giving him an Eskimo kiss. The cute exchange practically makes your ovaries explode.

Fred shifts to look at you “Merry Christmas (Y/N)” as he reaches for his coffee. “Merry Christmas Fred” you respond sitting down on the bed beside him sipping your coffee.

Oliver reaches and grabs his toes bringing them to his mouth. Fred chuckles “you got your toes?”

“Flexible like your dad” you quip.

He giggles “I’m not that flexible (Y/N/N)” he responds tickling his sons toes.

You’ve seen Fred be a dad the past 6 weeks. He is a great dad, but for some reason seeing him today interacting with your son has you feeling something different. You have this feeling to put your head on his shoulder and snuggle into him and sit as a family as you both coo over your son. Seeing him in these interactions with Oliver make you weak in the knees.

“I’m going to shower” you say with a smile on your face. You have a long cold shower trying to cool yourself off which didn’t help so you wander to your night stand and grab your familiar toy. You haven’t used it in a while, not since before you were 20 months along, after that Fred took over and helped you during the pregnancy. You were cleared for sexual interaction by your doctor a few days prior.

You lie down on your bed in your robe as you spread your legs and turn your toy on low. You graze it around lightly stroking your clit as you moan softly. You gently push it in, throwing your head back. You begin slowly moving it in and out, not wanting to try too much too soon. Not knowing how your body would respond.

You continue to gently pull it out and push it back in a moan escapes your lips. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to be quiet as you don’t want Fred to hear you. You continue the pace, gradually increasing the speed  of the vibrator as your body allows it. Whimpers continue to leave your lips as you bring your left hand up biting on your forearm as you feel your orgasm approaching. You increase the speed as your legs tighten around you and you spasm coming undone, a moan leaves your lips.

A few seconds later you hear the sound of your son outside your door followed by a “shhh” and then footprints head down the hall. Fuck I think he heard you think to yourself.

You quickly throw on some leggings and an oversized sweater and your Christmas hat. You find Fred in the kitchen holding Oliver as he feeds him a bottle. You walk by Fred kissing Oliver’s head on your way to get another coffee.

“I uh didn’t know when you’d be out of the shower” he pauses “I made breakfast. I didn’t want it to get cold so I put the lid on the pans.”

“Great” you say grabbing two plates and dishing out food as you eat in silence.

You expect the day to be slightly awkward but Fred manages to make it easy so you start thinking maybe he didn’t hear. You agreed to keep it simple for Christmas. Oliver is 6 weeks old and doesn’t know much about what is going on around him. Fred hands you a thin rectangular box wrapped with a little bow, the tag reads love Oliver. “Fred you weren’t supposed to” you say softly.

“I didn’t, Oliver did.” You chuckle lightly removing the paper. You open the box to find a beautiful necklace with a sapphire stone, set inside tiny diamonds with Oliver’s birth date engraved on the back “It’s beautiful, thank you” you say as Fred removes it from the box and places it around your neck doing the clasp.

You hand Fred a small box and he smirks at you “It’s from Oliver” you respond. He chuckles before removing the paper. He opens the box to reveal a leather woven bracelet. It has two charms woven into it, one with a footprint and the other has his birth date. A smile crosses his face “thanks Oliver its perfect” he says tickling your son’s foot before he puts it on his wrist.

During the afternoon you and Fred make Christmas ornaments with Oliver’s hand and footprints and make dinner. Since it was only the two of you opted to make a chicken instead of a turkey as they are smaller, but still was a nice family dinner with some wine Fred picked out.

You’re Outfit for the Tree Farm:

Fred’s Gift to You:

Your gift to Fred:

Oliver’s Christmas Outfit:

Next Chapter

[moonstruckbucky]

Come Over (5/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. Neighbor AU.

Warnings for Chapter: There’s some fluff and a quick look into Bucky’s head.

Notes: We’re getting into the thick of it here, folks. There’s only two more parts after this and I can’t even believe it. Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy x

P.S. - I almost forgot the goddamn Read More again.

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist 

The rest of October passes by in a chilly blur and in surprising quiet. It’s because, you learn, that Sharon is away again for work. You can’t help but notice the change in Bucky; he smiles more, doesn’t appear to walk on eggshells with anything, and you’re back to your regular coffee dates. You know it should set off alarm bells in your head that he’s so closed off when she’s around, but then you realize Bucky probably doesn’t have a lot of friends due to Sharon’s obvious insecurities and probable control issues. So you ignore it, allow yourself to feel bad that the only time Bucky can be himself is when she’s away.

The tension from the month before is gone, and so you choose not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Bucky’s apologized again and again for obviously upsetting you by being loud, and you find no choice but to accept each one when he looks at you with those goddamn eyes.

It’s during one of your weekend coffee dates that Bucky opens up a little bit more. About himself, his relationship, how Sharon went from being an amazing woman when they first started dating to now, where he barely recognizes her most days. 

“Her jealousy is out of control,” he sighs, shaking his head. He looks off to the window in your kitchen, lost in his head as if he’s trying to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship took a nosedive. Unthinking, you reach across the table and lay your hand on his and his eyes snap to first you and then your joined hands.

“Have you talked to her? See if you can find out why she’s started being like this? There has to be a reason…”

You can see the minute Bucky gets defensive; his jaw locks and he sits up, yanks his hand out from under yours. “I haven’t cheated, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

You hold your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t insinuating anything, Bucky. I was just asking. Sometimes these kinds of issues are deep-seated and stay dormant for a while before coming out. When did you start noticing her jealousy spiking?”

He blows out a breath and shakes his head, his long hair hanging in his face. You have to clench your fist to resist reaching out and brushing it aside. Bucky leans forward on your small table, chin resting on his hands as he thinks. His eyes light up in realization and he seems almost bashful now. Your curiosity piques.

“A-About the time you moved in,” he admits quietly, and then hurries to add, “I-I-I mean, there were other, smaller instances, I guess. But it was just, you know, her arm around my waist or some sudden PDA. Nothing huge. But, god don’t take this the wrong way, but when I told her you’d moved in, it’s like some kind of flip was switched. We ended up fighting about it.”

“I...I heard,” you mutter, twirling your coffee mug. Bucky looks horrified and you hurry to placate him. “I couldn’t hear specifics. Just...just your raised voice, that’s all.”

Groaning, he slides a hand down his face. “Some neighbor I am, huh?”

You smile sadly and shake your head. “Bucky, you’re a great neighbor. People argue. It’s fine.”

He meets your eyes, gratitude shimmering within the blue depths, and his gaze holds you there. Heart beating erratically in your chest, you realize this is a moment. It’s magnetic, the pull between you, and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort to break the stare and shatter the tension. Bucky shifts in his seat and focuses on his coffee cup.

“More coffee?” you ask because you need to fill the silence with something. At his nod, you scoot back from the table and refill both mugs. Take your seat and try to bring back some lightness to the room. “So Thanksgiving is coming up. You and Sharon have any fun plans?”

He scoffs bitterly as he stirs his coffee. Body rigid and an eye roll barely suppressed. “She’s away for work so, I’m on my own.”

“For Thanksgiving? That’s unacceptable. You should come spend it with my family. Clint will be there, and maybe Sam. I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

The invitation is out before you can really think too much on it. It feels natural, asking him to join you. Feels too natural if you let yourself think on it, but you don’t. It’s out there between you and you watch Bucky for his reaction.

He’s surprised. But he wants to say yes, you can see it on his face, but he shakes his head. “I couldn’t intrude on your family like that.”

It saddens your heart to think Bucky would be intruding. For people who aren’t really that close, you’ve shared a lot of personal baggage between you, and the thought of Bucky spending a holiday meant to be spent with family alone hardens your resolve. You won’t accept ‘no’, can’t. Not when Sharon doesn’t seem to care about being home with him.

“You won’t be.” You’re sure of this. Clint loves Bucky, and you’re damn sure the rest of your family will too. “You’re coming with me. No ifs, ands, or buts. Got it?”

Bucky thinks better of arguing with you. Sighs and nods his head like an obedient child but with a quick smile that says he’s grateful for the invitation. The two of you settle back into your chairs, the air between you both light but with a lurking tension that bubbles just beneath the surface.

The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving are hectic, manic, whatever word that describes ultimate bedlam you prefer. Stark Industries is closing on a new deal to allow for human trials of a new “super-suit” Tony has dubbed it, and it’s crucial that all ducks are in their designated rows to minimize liability risks. It’s a tornado of paperwork, phone calls with lawyers and insurance companies, emails back and forth with the physicists assigned to the project.

It’s a mess, and it leaves you haggard, exhausted, and more than a little cranky. You’ve accidentally snapped at Wanda more times than you can count, and if you hadn’t been paying attention, Tony might’ve been at the end of one of your fits as well. Fortunately, you’d just managed to catch yourself after he’d reminded you—again—about the write-up due to the project managers before the holiday.

It’s late the Tuesday before the holiday when you return home—nearly eight o’clock, and you’re about ready to collapse. You feel drunk on exhaustion as you stagger down the hall barefoot, your stupid heels hanging over your index finger. Eyelids heavy, like two lead weights are weighing them down, you stifle a yawn in your elbow. One of your heels goes clattering to the floor.

“Fuck,” you hiss, groaning long and loud as you bend over to retrieve it and your back protests the movement. You don’t realize you’re in front of Bucky’s door until it opens, and your neighbor, in all his pajama-clad muscled glory, frowns down at you.

“Y/N? What the hell happened to you?”

You sigh and close your eyes, lean your head against your knee. “Thanks, Buck. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He rolls his eyes before stooping to wrap a hand around your arm. Gently he helps you to your feet, and you can’t help it when you stagger just slightly into his body.

“Whoa, easy there,” he coos, steadying you. His body is unnaturally warm where it presses up against yours and for a second, you let yourself bask in the heat. A moth to a flame. Wings scorched, but you’ll gladly burn.

“Sorry,” you sigh after a few moments, shaking your head, “it’s been a busy past couple of weeks and I’m about ready to collapse.”

“C’mon, gimme your keys. Let’s get you inside.”

He slides your keychain from your hand, opens your door, leads you in. You whine at the sight of your couch, but before you can faceplant into the cushions, Bucky’s steering you away.

“B-But,” you stutter on a whine, reaching out dramatically, childishly, for the piece of furniture.

“Mm, nuh-uh. First, comfy clothes. Then I’m making you something to eat. And then you’re going to bed.”

“Bucky.” You’re still whining, but you’re far too tired to care. Bucky sits you down on your bed, lunges forward when you tip backward in an attempt to climb under your duvet. He keeps you upright, and you pout. “Bucky.”

“Patience. Which drawer is your pajama drawer?” He sighs when he glances over his shoulder, sees you curling up in your blankets in your work attire. Averts his eyes when your skirt rides halfway up your thighs.

“Third from the top,” is your sleepy, mumbled reply paired with a half-assed lift of your arm. The drawer slides open then shut, and you grunt as fabric hits you in the face.

“Get changed and meet me in the kitchen.”

“You’re awful bossy,” you snark as you sit up, but he’s gone, and you can already hear him banging around in the kitchen.

When you’re finished, you step out of your room to see Bucky bent over the stove with a box of pasta in his hand. He dumps the entire contents of the box into the pot, stirs, and then glances up when you appear in his line of vision. He smiles softly. 

“You look exhausted.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as you sit at the island, dig your hands into your eyes as if to ward off said exhaustion. “We’re ready to move onto trials with one of the suits and Tony’s been running me ragged but fortunately he gave me tomorrow off because of the holiday Thursday so…”

“Good. You should rest a lot tomorrow.”

“You’re still coming Thursday, right?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying not to come across too eager, but Bucky’s sly little grin tells you you kind of failed.

“Of course. It’s definitely better than spending it alone.” There’s a bitter undertone in his voice, but he’s moving on before you can press on it.

You eat in the living room; Bucky throws on some true crime documentary that only holds your attention for about ten minutes. Between the comfy clothes, the blanket you’re under, and the warmth of the food in your belly, you’re out like a light, head cocked uncomfortably against the arm of the couch.

Bucky glances over, does a double take and smiles softly. Mouth open, eyelids fluttering. It shouldn’t make his heart race, yet he thinks it might give out with how fast it’s beating, how his chest vibrates with its beat. He gently grabs the nearly-empty bowl from your limp fingers, which curl up and into the blanket, tucking it under your chin as you roll over and shove your face into the back cushion of your couch.

It’s endearing, despite the deep circles Bucky can see even in the dimmed lighting in the room. Setting both bowls on the coffee table, he wipes his hands on his sweatpants; he’s nervous, has never been this close, much less in such a vulnerable situation. Your warm against him as he scoops you up; his conscience would never let him rest if he’d left you to sleep on the couch. He feels his heartbeat stutter when you curl into him like you’d curled into your blanket, nose buried against his chest. He hopes the rapid thudthudthud of his heart doesn’t wake you, prays you stay oblivious to the way you’re making him feel. Your nightshirt slides up and his fingers touch your bare skin. It’s like setting fire to flint—a spark, and then all-consuming flame as it slithers and writhes up his arm and into his belly, his chest. He knows his cheeks are a thousand shades of red; he’s never had such a visceral reaction to touch before, even when he’d met Sharon and still knew who she was. 

He side-steps into your room, avoids bonking your head or your dangling feet against the frame. Blankets pulled back, your soft and pliant body laid underneath. A soft sigh that slides between your parted lips, a content smile as you roll onto your belly, tug your second pillow to your chest, a visible deflate. Bucky’s immobile, feet planted so firmly into your floor he wonders if he’d grown roots there. He knows he should leave, knows he’s a creep for remaining unmoving, but he can’t look away from you.

Your eyelids still flutter, your mind lost in some dream that he’s yearning to hear about. How did he fall so deeply?

Like dragging lead through water, he begins to walk from your room, freezes when your lips mumble out something that sounds oddly like Bucky. He swallows around the lump in his throat, the rising guilt in his belly that burns like acid. He leaves the door open a crack, cleans your empty bowls, and leaves because he can’t bare the gnawing in his gut, the want, the longing, the absolute need for you to destroy him.

Chapter Six

[ggukcangetit]

Tomorrow: Jungkook x Reader

**

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff. Grad student au!; grad student! jungkook; grad student! reader; grad student! bts

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Suggestive language, mild kissing. Not much else really.

Summary: At the beginning of your third year of your PhD program, you didn’t expect many changes. Until the new PhD cohort started classes, and Jeon Jungkook became part of your group of friends.

A/N: i just wrote this randomly with zero plot in mind. idk what this ended up becoming but read it and lemme know if you like it? 

“Choi is a madwoman. I swear she makes me do so many lit reviews just to see me suffer.” Park Jimin, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at HopeWorld dance studio, and is currently regretting many of his life choices.

“I told you not to say yes to every single project that came your way.” Min Yoongi, 4th year PhD student, weekend DJ at Club Moonlight, recipient of the university’s most prestigious research grant, currently lives in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“We’re older. Which means we have more experience. Which means we tend to be right more often.” Kim Seokjin, another 4th year PhD student, enrolled into the PhD program after realising that the completion of his MBA meant he would have to join the family business, amateur chef with professional sass, and sole reason behind Min Yoongi being able to afford living in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“Not when you bet Tae he couldn’t finish grading Kang’s first year Intro class papers in 24 hours.” Jung Hoseok, 3rd year PhD student, simultaneously working on a second Master’s degree, also happens to run HopeWorld dance studio during his oodles of free time.

“Speaking of, weren’t you supposed to treat us if you lost the bet, Seokjin?” Kim Namjoon, 3rd year PhD student, plant dad, head of the graduate student council, and all-around overachiever.

“Tae was supposed to choose the place. Did you decide on which exorbitantly expensive restaurant Seokjin is going to take us to, Tae?” Y/L/N Y/N, 3rd year PhD student, roommates with Namjoon and Hoseok, addicted to bubble tea.

“I have a better plan. The incoming first year PhDs are supposed to have their orientation tomorrow. I think Seokjin should organise a mixer to welcome them.” Kim Taehyung, aforementioned ‘Tae’, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at the local art gallery, roommates with Park Jimin, deceptively fast at grading papers.

“I do not remember agreeing to that,” said Seokjin, with a frown, shutting his laptop with a definitive snap.

“Come on, it’s not like you can’t afford it,” Yoongi remarked, not having looked up from the large stack of papers in front of him. “If you can insist on paying 3/4ths of the ridiculously high rent of our apartment even though we could have moved into the perfectly reasonable priced place 20 minutes away from the lab, you can damn well afford to host a mixer for the incoming cohort.”

“20 minutes by car. It takes 45 minutes to walk there, Yoongi. Or do I need to remind you of the fact that only Y/N and Sooyoung own cars in our department?” scoffed Seokjin.

“Do I hear trouble in paradise? Have Yoongi and Seokjin finally had their first fight after years of marital bliss?” Lim Sooyoung, 4th year PhD student, part-time yoga instructor, full-time reluctant designated driver due to being the only other PhD student in the department with a car. 

“Hilarious,” grumbled Seokjin. “That joke is about as old as the milk carton at the bottom of Namjoon’s fridge.”

“That’s still there?” asked Hoseok, scandalised. “You told me you threw that out 4 months ago!”

“It’s a limited edition Blue Bean milk carton! I couldn’t throw it out, Hobi,” replied Namjoon, sheepishly. The use of Hoseok’s nickname meant that he had run out of logical arguments against throwing out the milk carton that had been purchased three months into their first year of doctoral studies. 

“Have you ever considered emptying out the contents and keeping just the carton?” you asked. This suggestion was met with the raising of an eyebrow and the throwing of an airpod by Namjoon. Unfortunately, this also meant that the airpod didn’t reach its intended target.

“Ow!” exclaimed Hoseok, rubbing the side of his face where the airpod had made contact. “This is why you’ve been through 33 pairs of airpods in the last year, Namjoon! You have dormant violent tendencies and terrible hand-eye coordination.”

“Now back to that mixer,” said Taehyung, turning towards Seokjin. “I’m thinking around 5 pm at the Underground should be good. What do you think?”

“Fine,” sighed Seokjin, reluctantly. “I’ll send a message on Slack. Who’s got the first years’ contact info?”

xxx

The next day, you found yourself struggling to find parking outside the Underground, despite it being 4.30 pm on a Tuesday. Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting at the back and discussing ways in which they could watch as many of the student films that were being shown over the weekend, while Taehyung sat shotgun and muttered to himself as he tried to destroy some kind of adversary on that godforsaken game that he always seemed to play. You whipped out your phone and started texting Sooyoung about whether she had found any parking.

SY: just parked… sending you the location… its behind the club

SY: is seokjin with you

Y/N: thanks!

Y/N: no i’ve got tae joon n hobi 

SY: ok… wonder how he’s getting here… yoongi’s with me… said seokjin left a while back

Y/N: idk… sure he found something… uber or lyft or whatever… don't worry he won't ditch lol 

Y/N: i found a spot damnnnnn. cya in a bit

SY: lol tae wouldn’t let him live if he ditched

SY: nice :D yoongi and i are in the purple section

The purple section was undoubtedly the best spot in the Underground, as you had discovered almost 2 years ago. Being new to the city, you had basically followed Joon and Hobi wherever they went to socialize or get food. It was around the end of your second month in the program that Seokjin planned a mid-semester gathering, refusing to eat at, in his words, “another cheap taco truck masquerading as kitschy Instagram bait”. That was your first encounter with the Underground as well as your first experience in the purple section. Simply put, it had the best sofas and chairs, an abundance of vintage arcade games, easy access to the bar and food counter, and a separate music setup. It also cost a lot more to sit at the purple section, but Seokjin had never been the type to scrimp when it came to anything. It had become a kind of tradition after that; every time someone had a birthday, Seokjin would reserve the purple section for the evening. Not having grown up surrounded by luxury and riches, it was sometimes difficult for you to understand how Seokjin never thought twice before spending money on things. Then again, you doubted you would’ve been this thoughtful even if you had this kind of money at your disposal. Seokjin might’ve been hard to read at times, but his heart was in the right place.

Speaking of, you spotted Seokjin standing next to a couple of people you didn’t recognise. Deciding that this was probably the best time to get introduced to the first years, you walked over to them with a smile.

“Just deposited Joon, Hobi, and Tae near the bar. I feel sorry for your tab today, Seokjin.”

Seokjin lifted one of his thick arched eyebrows at you and then burst into his signature windshield wiper laugh. “I’ll give them a free pass today. Afterall, it’s the beginning of a new academic year!”

“You’re planning on dumping all of Kang’s data analysis on them, aren’t you?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Ah, Y/N, you know me so well,” he grinned, his features lighting up mischievously. “By the way, here’s two thirds of the new cohort. Song Yeri and Jeon Jungkook.”

You glanced at the two unfamiliar people and smiled in greeting. Yeri was a petite girl with long black hair who quickly fell into conversation with you. Jungkook, on the other hand, gave you a soft nod and walked over to where Jimin was opening a couple of beers. 

“So is Professor Kang someone we should be worried about?” asked Yeri, not giving you much time to pay much attention to Jungkook. “I wouldn’t want to be unprepared.”

Seokjin laughed at her worried tone. “Straight off the bat, huh?” 

Yeri flushed slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Oh no- I mean, it just seemed like that from your conversation!”

“Don’t worry, Yeri,” you assured her. “Seokjin’s a fourth year - not much phases him. He’s doing his PhD under Kang so he has to do tons of data analysis for her projects. Which he sometimes dumps on people who have been bothering him.”

Yeri looked suitably concerned at this new piece of information. She glanced at Seokjin’s handsome profile and smiled uncertainly. You couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction. It really was difficult to get a grasp on everyone’s personalities just by their looks. Each and every guy in the department was strikingly handsome, and Sooyoung, the only other female besides you, looked like she had walked out of a fashion show. It would’ve been extremely intimidating if you hadn’t personally been a witness to how clumsy Namjoon was, how lame Seokjin’s puns were, how scared Yoongi and Hoseok were of anything remotely resembling an insect, how Tae hadn’t managed to cook a single meal without setting off the fire alarm or giving Jimin food poisoning, how Jimin often collided into objects because he was laughing too much, or how Sooyoung had gotten lost multiple times on her way to campus in spite of driving along the same road for more than 3 years. You were sure Yeri, and the other two first years, would definitely get over the initial nerves and intimidation surrounding their colleagues. In fact, if Jungkook’s animated conversation with Jimin was anything to go by, it seemed like he had gotten over that already.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others.” You steered Yeri in Sooyoung and Yoongi’s direction.

xxx

“Thanksgiving next week! I cannot wait to get away from this blasted Ethics class!” 

You were currently in Seokjin and Yoongi’s shared posh apartment, trying to proof-read a paper before the conference deadline. On the couch next to you sat Seokjin and Namjoon, eyes blinking rapidly in tiredness, while Jimin sat across from you, his silver hair tied into a messy ponytail. 

The door to the apartment swung open at that moment as Jungkook walked in, armed with takeout from at least 4 different places.

“I come bearing sustenance,” he announced, as Jimin jumped up with surprising alacrity and rushed towards him. 

“Your Busan blood runs strong, my friend,” said Jimin, appreciatively, eyeing all the different containers on the table. “I knew I could count on you.”

“That makes zero sense, Jimin,” scoffed Sooyoung. She was buried deep inside Yoongi’s favorite bean bag, having taken it over since the owner was currently not at home. “But li’l Jeon has proven to be a valuable addition to our department.”

���Ugh! Don’t call him that! Li’l Jeon sounds like something else,” you said, scrunching your nose in distaste.

“I agree,” replied Jungkook, rolling up his sleeves as he began opening the containers carefully. “But i can assure you of one thing - there is nothing li’l about this Jeon. In any sense of the word.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you declared, throwing a particularly soft pillow over your face. 

Three months into the semester and Jungkook had become an integral part of your group of friends. It had turned out that Jungkook and Jimin knew each other very well, having gone to school together in Busan. It’s not as if you hadn’t become well acquainted with the other two first years - Yeri still consulted you whenever she needed advice on how to deal with grading or professors or classes in general; and Lauren, an international student from France, was very friendly and turned up at all the department hangouts. But Jungkook seemed like he had been part of your group forever - not someone who had met almost everyone for the first time about 3 months ago. As was customary with first year PhD students, they were required to complete a few mandatory courses before being allowed to customize their coursework around their individual research interests. So even though Jungkook had all the same classes with Yeri and Lauren, almost every moment outside of classes was spent with one of you.

“I can’t believe it’s already time for Thanksgiving,” said Jimin, popping an entire dumpling into his mouth. “-ime eeli plyz.”

“Chew your food, you barbarian,” scolded Seokjin, blowing on a particularly large piece of fried chicken before putting the entirety into his mouth. A couple of chews and a large swallow later, Seokjin was ready for a second piece.

“Speak for yourself,” remarked Sooyoung, holding onto her food protectively.

“I remember Yoongi telling us during our orientation,” Namjoon piped up, a can of beer in his hand. “‘In a PhD program, days are slow, but semesters are fast’. I thought he was high at that time, but I realise now that he’s a true genius.”

“I still don’t get why you’re such a Yoongi fanboy,” grumbled Seokjin, settling comfortably into the couch once again. “I’m just as wise, and definitely a lot funnier.”

“Don’t forget about being a drama queen,” said Sooyoung, nudging Seokjin’s knee with her toes. “You’ve got that one over Yoongi as well.”

“Four years and you're still as ungrateful,” sighed Seokjin, looking uncharacteristically cheerful at the teasing. 

“At least I’m consistent,” shrugged Sooyoung. “Gimme some of your kimchi.”

“Consistency is only useful across data samples,” remarked Seokjin, picking up a small amount of kimchi with his chopsticks and feeding Sooyoung. “Not sure how desirable it is in human relationships. Life would be unbearably dull in that case.” 

“They’ve been dancing around each other for as long as I’ve known them. Why can’t they just get together and stop their incessant flirting in front of the rest of us,” you muttered darkly, vigorously pouring chili oil over your ramen. You, Namjoon, and Jungkook were still getting your food from the kitchen, while Jimin had gone ahead and joined the incessantly flirting pair in the living room.

“Y/N is always so bitter about anything to do with romance,” chuckled Namjoon. “Jungkook, do you know how annoyed she was when Hobi started dating last year?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of hearing that story.” Jungkook glanced at you cheekily, while popping open a can of beer.

“She didn’t speak to him for an entire week. Which was particularly inconvenient because the three of us had just started living in the same apartment, and we were all assigned to assist Choi on her year-end department survey. Poor Hobi thought he might have to find a new place to live.” 

“I’m sorry? Were you the one who came back home after extended office hours to find your friend butt-naked and balls-deep inside the barista who works across the street from our lab? I couldn’t get coffee from there for a month because I couldn’t look Sujin in the eye without immediately imagining Hobi in his natural drawers.”

Jungkook, who had chosen this exact moment to take a sip of beer, spat out the amber liquid on an unsuspecting Namjoon. 

“That’s what you get for deriving pleasure from other people’s misfortunes,” you remarked, smugly.

xxx

It was around 11.30 in the morning, when you heard a loud knocking on your apartment door. Classes had broken for Thanksgiving yesterday, which meant that today was your day to catch up on all the sleep you had missed over the last three months. But instead, you had been woken up much ahead of your intended 16 hours of sleep schedule. 

“You look awful.”

Jungkook walked into the apartment, looking far too fresh and sprightly for your liking. He was wearing that godforsaken plaid shirt that hung loosely off his body, but would highlight his rather well-defined muscles every time he happened to move in a particular way. You absolutely hated what a tease his shirt was. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t wearing the skin tight black jeans which always looked like they were about to burst at the seams, thanks to Jungkook’s equally well-defined thighs. 

“It’s not even noon. Why can’t you call before showing up? Where are your manners, Jeon?” you grumbled, checking to see if your pajamas had any glaring holes in them.

“I need help with the data analysis,” he mumbled sheepishly. “Professor Lee gave me a really tough dataset because I breezed through the first two assignments.”

“Still don’t see why you came over without any notice at this ungodly hour,” you continued, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I also got jjajangmyeon, kimbap, and bubble tea from Kimchi Palace.”

“What kind of bubble tea?” you asked, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

“Strawberry milk tea, half sugar, light ice, with extra strawberry jelly, and no boba.”

“I suppose it isn’t that early.”

A few minutes later, you were explaining principal component analysis to Jungkook, while eating jjajangmyeon and sipping bubble tea. The kimbap was put into the fridge for later, in case Namjoon or Hoseok wanted to have some when they got home at night. 

Jungkook was very intelligent; he picked up new concepts quite easily and was one hundred percent committed to whatever he worked on. He also had a refreshing sense of humor, where he didn’t always crack jokes or stay in the limelight, but his occasional quips were enough to send everyone into fits of laughter. He got along extremely well with each of them. He and Taehyung often walked around the city taking obscure, artsy photographs. Seokjin had basically adopted Jungkook as a younger brother due to his video gaming abilities. Namjoon was glad to finally have someone who enjoyed going on nature hikes with him, while Hoseok had been hugely impressed at Jungkook’s dancing and promptly asked him to help out at his studio. Jimin already knew Jungkook quite well, and Yoongi was more than happy to teach someone else the intricacies of cooking different kinds of meat. Even Sooyoung, who usually remained closed off from new people, had allowed Jungkook to use her car whenever someone needed to be picked up but she was too exhausted to drive. 

“I’m sorry I came by so early. I know you’ve been looking forward to catching up on sleep over the break,” he said softly, looking up from his laptop. That was the other thing that had struck you about Jungkook, he was very perceptive and sensitive to people around him. A rare quality which you appreciated far more than you let on.

“It’s fine. You saved me from having to cook lunch. That itself deserves many prizes from my end. You know how I hate cooking,” you shrugged.

“Speaking of, I’m making dinner for me and Tae tonight. Jimin’s visiting his brother, so it's just the two of us. And since I’d rather not get food poisoning, I’m putting Yoongi’s lamb chop recipe to good use,” he grinned boyishly. “You should come over if you don’t have anything else planned. It’ll save you from cooking another meal.”

“I might take you up on that offer. Let me check if either Joon or Hobi are having dinner at home, otherwise I’ll definitely be there.”

xxx

Taehyung and Jimin (and now Jungkook) lived about 10 minutes away from your place. It was a much larger apartment, so three people were more than comfortable there. Jungkook was staying there until he found another place to stay, but judging by how happy Jimin and Taehyung were with him around, he would probably end up staying with them permanently.

“I found parking at your building for the first time today,” you remarked, dropping your bag on the nearest couch. 

“Half the people are visiting family over the weekend. You won’t be so lucky next time.” Taehyung walked over lazily, his thick black hair falling messily over his eyes. He was dressed in his favorite Celine t-shirt and a pair of the loosest pants you had seen till date.

“The perm’s still looking good, Tae,” you grinned at him, taking the soda from his hand. 

“I’m planning on getting it done again once it wears off,” he said happily, settling into the couch. “Catch up on your sleep? Or did Gguk ruin your Thanksgiving plans as well?”

“‘As well’?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Taking advantage of the nearly empty laundry room and washing all the sheets does not count as ‘ruining’ anyone’s Thanksgiving plans!” yelled Jungkook from inside the kitchen.

“He woke me up at 7 am and stripped the sheets off my bed, emptied all our laundry bags, and locked me out of my room so that I wouldn’t dirty the bare mattress with my grubby clothes.” Taehyung’s grumbling was always extremely funny because he would end up pouting by the end of his rant and no one would take him seriously after that.

“Okay, the bread is in the oven and should be ready in about 15. Lamb chops are almost done as well. We’ll be dining in no time,” said Jungkook, flopping onto the couch beside you.

“That gives me enough time to answer the emails Choi sent me this morning. Jimin was right, she’s a madwoman. Doesn’t understand what ‘a break’ is , apparently,” sighed Taehyung, getting up and walking towards his room. “Lemme know when the food is ready.”

3 years ago, if anyone had told you that you would be more than halfway through your PhD having become close friends with seven of the most handsome guys on campus (or even in the country), you would’ve laughed at them and then silently questioned their sanity. But now, you couldn’t imagine life without them. Even Jungkook, you realised, glancing at the boy next to you. He had also become an extremely important part of your life. He didn’t say much, but his actions made things abundantly clear. He was extremely caring and thoughtful, even if he didn’t always have the right words to express himself. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asked, looking at you sleepily.

“That this soda is almost lukewarm.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

Suddenly, you felt a rough set of fingers poking your ribcage. Slowly, but surely, you were squirming in place as you struggled to not spill your soda while Jungkook continued tickling you mercilessly. 

“I know your weakness, remember?” he managed to say between giggles, his voice turning high-pitched as it usually did when he laughed too hard. 

“Gguk stop! The soda! It’ll spill on the carpet!” you gasped, trying to keep your hand steady.

“Oh shit! Sorry. Yeah, Jimin would freak out if he saw a stain on this carpet.” Jungkook let you go so that you could place the soda can on the nearest table. But as soon as you had freed your hands, you jumped on him and pinned him on the couch.

“I also know your weakness, Gguk,” you grinned, deviously, before tickling him with all your might. 

Needless to say, a scenario with two people in their mid-twenties behaving like 4 year olds, was bound to have certain consequences. In this case, it ended with both you and Jungkook falling off the couch, your faces mere inches away from each other. 

This wasn’t the first time you had been struck by how handsome Jungkook was. In fact, you had noticed the exact number of moles on his face and neck, having stopped yourself from reaching out and touching the one under his lower lip on more than one occasion. His large doe eyes also held a certain innocence and wonder in them, even though he was an extremely bright and capable PhD student with a lot of varied knowledge bases. Not just that, his impressive physique had caught you off guard many times. Particularly because it contrasted so heavily with his boyish face.

None of that mattered at this moment, as you could feel his breath on your face. He was so close… If you reached up a little bit, you would be-

“The oven timer’s been beeping for the last 10 minutes. But you both are too busy eye-fucking each other to notice.”

Taehyung’s deep voice caused you both to spring apart from each other, mortification heating up your face and neck. Jungkook’s ears, you noticed, had turned a very beautiful shade of red as well.

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as you expected because Yoongi dropped by a few minutes after your ‘eye-fucking’ session, extremely hungry and annoyed at Seokjin - who had decided to use this night to slow cook some pork.

“Gguk, this is really good,” said Yoongi, once all of you had finished eating. “Didn’t think you’d be able to get it right on the first go! Y/N, what’d you think? You’ve been awfully quiet the whole time.”

You nodded your head in response, keenly aware of Taehyung’s intense gaze that followed your every move. “It was really good, Gguk. Thanks for a lovely meal.”

“Do you need a ride home, Yoongi?” you asked, once all the dishes had been cleared away. “I’ve got my car.”

“Life-saver. I need to pick up a tin of coffee from the convenience store. I’ll meet you at the parking lot in 10?” said Yoongi slipping on his jacket.

“Wait, I’ll go with you. I need to buy some soda,” said Taehyung, springing up suddenly. Not bothering to change out of his slippers, he rushed out after Yoongi, but not before glancing quickly between you and Jungkook and sending you a rather outrageous wink.

“That was… weird,” you remarked, relieved to see that Jungkook had missed your exchange with Taehyung. “Anyway, thanks again for a great meal. You’re a really good cook, Gguk.”

“Thanks,” he said, not really looking up from his phone. He had also been rather silent throughout the meal.

“I’m heading out then. See you later, Gguk.” You picked up your bag and proceeded to open the door.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around to find Jungkook standing rather close to you. You could see the mole below his lower lip quite clearly from here.

“You never told me what you were thinking about.” His voice was a lot more husky than usual, and you gulped as you realised you had no clue what to say to him.

“I-”

Before you could finish your half-formed sentence, Jungkook’s lips were on yours, kissing you slowly. After being frozen for a second or two, your hands made their way into his soft brown curls, relishing in the feeling of having him so close to you. You realised that you had been wanting to do this for a while now. Maybe even since the first day of classes, when he had offered you his cup of coffee after the machine in the department had stopped working. 

“Never mind,” he said, breaking the kiss with a soft ‘chu’. “You can tell me another time. Yoongi’s probably waiting at the parking lot.”

“And Tae might come back any minute now,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a soft smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow?” It seemed like your brain had short circuited. 

“Yeah.” He dipped down and placed another chaste kiss on your mouth, before displaying his adorable bunny smile. “But even that seems too far away right now.”

You were really grateful that you managed to get both yourself and Yoongi home without crashing the car that night. Once you got home, you checked your phone and found two messages - a text from Jungkook checking if you had reached home safe, and another one from Taehyung.

T: the couch is off limits. don’t even think about it...

xxx

please do not repost anywhere. reblog if you enjoyed the story!

[greymattermaelstrom]

Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020  -   The Rik and Sophie Show

I attended Ozlander in Melbourne. What an incredible weekend so would like to share my Ozlander experience with you. Of course, it was during the very early days of covid-19 which I’ll address shortly. I’d never met any of the cast before, nor any group of like minded fans. Of course, you are usually lucky to know anyone who watch the TV show (not counting a partner) in your circle of friends let alone personally know a group of fans to chat with. It’s funny though, I’m not sure what I expected, but I thought people would have in depth discussions about OL characters/plots during coffee breaks or in line ups for autographs/photos. I didn’t experience that. I think it was a given that we were all deep into OL. Instead, I found we just chatted and got to know each other, ‘Where are you from?’ etc. As this was the first formal Outlander convention held in Australia, this was big news. I bought my ticket the day they were available (Nov 2019). It was a long way off but I knew the gathering would occur a short time after the first few episodes of Outlander S5 were broadcast, so when S5 started airing, my anticipation grew. Prices were steep admittedly, but a number of us felt it may be the first and last opportunity to meet a cast member, so we did what we could to get there (i.e. sell the healthiest child, blackmail the rich, etc).

Article from “The Scottish Banner” Feb 2020.

Unfortunately, 4 weeks out, Ed Speleers withdrew due to work commitments but local, David Berry, was announced as his replacement on the same day. Then 10 days out, Graham McTavish withdrew due to work commitments in Slovakia. No news of a replacement was announced (I learnt at the event that organising a visa etc with Covid-19 developing had made it nigh on impossible to organise a replacement in time). Ozlander organisers revisited the program and added extra value features to the various tiers. The gathering weekend was so close, yet seemed so far away in these uncertain times. Every day, I anticipated receiving an email stating it had been cancelled. I knew the organisers must have been pulling their hair out. Selfishly and as long as it was safe to do so, I was hoping it would still go ahead. The virus was not as advanced in Australia. Most of our relatively low number of cases were brought in by travellers (residents returning or tourists) from Europe/Asia before flying was cancelled. The Federal Government had restricted public gatherings to less than 500 at the time. Attendance was actually under 200.  FYI, below are the global covid-19 stats as of 19 April 2020, a month later. Australia’s population is 25 million.

A few days after the Ozlander event, only crowds of less than 100 were permitted by the govt. We were so, so lucky!! Of course, that reduced further as precautions were implemented over time. We have self-isolation and a lot of business closures, cancellation of sports/entertainment etc. It is dreadful, but not a total lock down in Australia. We could walk dogs and make necessary trips to the supermarket, pharmacy, doctor or special court appearances. Anyway, just wanted to address this concern. ~ Tickets sold well (premium tickets sold out). I saw fans on sm stating the date of the event clashed or it was a bit expensive so I know more wanted to come. Yes, the cost was relatively high. Return airfares for cast, accommodation, plus I assume their appearance fee was always going to be an expensive venture, especially as our AUD had been declining sharply against the USD for some time. Australia can miss out on some things because of distance and a relatively small population, but overall, I think we have done well over the years. ~ Rik (Richard) and Sophie posted IG photos from Melbourne a couple of days before the event. Yay!! They were in the country at least, enjoying the sunsets, cuddling koalas and hypnotising wallabies lol. Sophie posted a selfie from a public toilet (bathroom) - as you do. See Sam’s comment below. Toilet paper was becoming a precious commodity....🤔

So the odds looked good and finally, Ozlander arrived.🥳 Before we took our seats, a lone piper slowly walked into the throng playing Waltzing Matilda (iconic Australian bush ballad) which segued into Outlander's theme song. Goosebumps! Applause all 'round. The piper was a big fan too.

What a thrilling start to proceedings. We took our seats and Meagan Taylor (the one who dared dream the dream), welcomed everyone. The age range of fans was predominately 40-65. We were excited and expectant. Housekeeping announcements focused on coronavirus precautions of course. Wash hands, use hand sanitiser when you can't, no handshaking and no touching the cast. This last request was a little disappointing after seeing photos from other OL cons, but it was quite understandable. I think we were just over the moon Ozlander went ahead so we were more than happy to comply and consider the health and safety of others. Then Meagan had the unenviable task of informing us David Berry had unfortunately cancelled his appearance due to health reasons. Yikes! What a shame. (David released a press statement 15 March(?) outlining his difficult decision. Sydney is Australia's Covid-19 hot spot, so David being a Sydneysider, had to consider this I guess). There are IG photos of David, Rik and Sophie together in Australia, just not sure where. So of course, it surprised everyone that David wasn't attending. Refunds of his meet and great and the re-jigging of tiers was to be announced on the fly. Then there were two, Rik and Sophie (and no pressure whatsoever!)🤪. Meagan then advised that the five panels across the weekend would be all audience Q & A which got a loud cheer. On with the show! The Rik and Sophie show! 🎉 They came on stage ready for a good time. Rik opened with 'G'day'. Great start I thought and continued his half decent Australian accent. It's a hard accent to imitate as we know. Rik's was a bit exaggerated but that was part of the fun. 

‘G’day. ‘How are ya’?’

Sophie in an outfit she bought here. Same brand as Saturday’s dress that she brought with her.

Roger Mac is in da house.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I have seen Rik and Sophie in a lot of interviews, OL promos (talking to camera) and taking part on OL panels on YouTube. I can find their rapport a little strained and snarky at times. Luckily, I was very pleasantly surprised that their 2020 version was very endearing and entertaining. I think they’ve worked on this. I also think, that the spectre of Sam and Cait, through no fault of their own, does loom large at cast events. Therefore, it was great to see Rik and Sophie rise to the challenge of working the room in the absence of their cast mates. And I think they really relished this (albeit exhausting) opportunity and the small theatre made it a casual and intimate affair. They answered questions in an engaging manner and often expanded on it, citing on set examples, many I’ve never heard before, and I’ve seen a lot of OL interviews. Almost as soon as they came on stage, Rik was asked if he would play his guitar and sing for us. While flattered, I think it was too early in the piece and he said maybe he would do so during the weekend sometime. Alas, time wasn’t on our side so it didn’t eventuate. ~ Rik was asked if his hair ticks were under control (ep 501)😂. Combing his fingers through his hair, he replied in his strong Scottish brogue that most of them were gone now. Good sport. ~ He was told the OL bts photos he posts on sm (taken on set) were great and much appreciated and to keep them coming to which the audience applauded. I think he quietly enjoyed that moment. All creatives will take that, knowing their skills and hard work meant something to someone, much like our appreciation for OL and these sorts of events!

Then on to costumes, wigs and make up. It was thought that it must be nice to have your scalp/hair attended to in the makeup. ‘No, it’s not’ R&S said in unison.😂 Verra uncomfortable process apparently. The hair is flattened and held down with clips. The hairline edge of the wig is ‘glued’ to the top of your forehead and then alcohol is used to get the glue off after shooting, which dries the skin. Some hair falls out over time with this process also. We know this has happened to Sam to an extent.😬 Rik is hoping to grow his hair long enough so he doesn’t need a wig, which accounts for his current hirsute glory. ~ Sophie said they both share a make up trailer and added that Rik has a magic make up chair. Being early morning, he often goes to sleep in it and upon waking up, hey presto, it’s Roger Mac. At make up time, they do know if the other is a bit touchy, so they try not to annoy each other. Too much.😂 ~ At one stage, we were a bit shy in asking questions. Meagan said if this was in the US, there’d be a line up for the mic.😂

Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 selfie. 

~ Sophie responded to a geeky question about wearing wireless mics secreted in their costumes or hair as well using the usual overhead boom mics you see on bts videos. She was asked about her experience with ADR which she’s not a great fan of it. The audience asked, ‘What’s ADR?’ There are a few accepted terms in the industry, Additional Dialogue Replacement is one. It’s when some dialogue needs to be re-recorded late in post production if the original dialogue audio recording at the time is less than optimal for a variety of reasons (thanks Google). Sophie gave an instance when in S4, Bree told Claire she had been raped. The stream in the background got into the dialogue mics too much in this particular outdoor location, so Sophie had to re-record her dialogue (like lip syncing) saying exactly what she said at the time, whilst watching the scene on a screen in a recording studio. It’s hard to get the context and emotion of the scene back into your voice and that’s why some actors hate doing it and plead to have the original dialogue kept as much as possible. But ADR happens more than you realise and for various reasons (see Google). It is impossible to tell when you watch the show, what scenes have had ADR done, it’s blended so well. They would record the stream/ ambient sounds separately at some point and then mix it in lower against the dialogue after ADR is done. 😅

 ~ Sophie talked about her audition process and was sat down in an exec’s office and was told OL fans are very passionate! (we are?🤔😁). They have an idea of how book Brianna should look and Sophie confirmed she wasn’t tall enough, eyes the wrong colour, etc and that yeah, as expected, she received some not so nice things on sm. But she tried not to read too much of it and pressed on with the role of Bree. Her tone wasn’t sarcastic or indignant at all, but humble. I was impressed. 

Queuing for photos with Rik or Sophie on this occasion. We weren’t allowed to touch but we all had a squirt of hand sanitiser (just to be super safe?).🤔            

There were a few photo opportunities over the weekend and a bonus or two thrown in make up for the cast that couldn’t make it. A refund was offered for people with meet and greet tickets for David. However, R & S kindly offered to do a meet and greet for David’s fans instead and they happily accepted. Legends! I don’t know where they found the energy to be constantly ’on’ with so many people over the weekend. Chocolate? Youth?  ~ As it was a small event, there weren’t any extra security staff that I could see. I think it was only the Museum staff and the security cameras which were hardly noticeable. ~ When getting my autographs, Rik and Sophie didn’t ask for my name, but when I read their personal messages, they had used my name (which they’d seen on my Ozlander lanyard. How cool is that? Very slick!). There were assorted costumes, the de rigueur wedding dress of Claire’s which added to the ambience. Of course, most of the audience were women but good to see a handful of men there, some even in kilts! Saw some Aussie Peakers in their MPC tees too. Cool. 

To settle a pronunciation question, Sophie asked the audience after lunch, ‘Is it scone (as in, phone) or scone (as in, shone)? 

An emphatic SCONE (shone) came back. Rik said “Oh, wow, a shouting(?) majority?’ 

Just to be sure, someone asked who lost, Rik pointed at Sophie. He didn’t gloat too much. Poor Sophie!

Of course, what would an OL event be without the cast having a drink or two to lubricate the tonsils (as we say).

Here are a few more tidbits. All the info I’m sharing has been gleaned from the panels and time spent with Rik and Sophie over the weekend as my tier allowed (which was a lot). ~ Yes, they had tried Vegemite (similar to marmite/promite), courtesy of David Berry. Sophie has some in Scotland. Onya Davo! (good on you David). Incidentally, Sam tried some when he was here in 2016 on Studio 10 (morning talk show - March 2016, his interview is on You Tube). It’s a thing. ~ Rik didn’t know if Sam’s whisky would be his cup of tea, but said it was ‘good actually’. ~ Rik was sometimes surprised by the particular take post production used for the show, but was more surprised by what was edited out of a scene (to add dynamics or guide the narrative a certain way which would apply to all productions everywhere). ~ The pyre scene with the Jesuit Priest at the Mohawk Village Ep 412 was hard to watch on TV. He said it was hard to watch them shoot that scene on set as it was so dangerous!😬 ~ Sophie very occasionally discussed the historical accuracy of things in a scene with directors ie. birthing stool or not in Ep 413 and 1960′s The Mashed Potato moves in S5 are different to how we know them now. She convinced the director��s on those 2 occasions. To me, it shows her passion for the show! ~ When asked about Bree meeting Jamie for the first time in S4, Sophie was asked about the eww factor but didn’t think about Jamie’s hand touching her face after he had relieved himself as he had only used a fruit juice bottle.🤣 ~ R & S were asked to respond to: ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!’ And with relish they replied: ‘Oi, Oi, Oi!’. Someone did their homework. Cool. It’s a parochial call and response thing some aussies do at sporting events etc. ~ R & S often went for an early morning run. Before Sunday’s program began, Meagan asked us all to be very quiet. ‘That sound’, she said, ‘is Rik having his hair blown dry backstage.’ Laughter at Rik’s expense all round. Sophie came on with her’s still damp.

Graham McTavish ‘popped’ in from Slovakia to say hi and sorry I can’t be there. Rik and Graham had a good rapport. After some banter, the audience was now supposed to ask a question and GM rolled his eyes as he heard Rik’s voice again, this time asking him what he conditioned his beard with? ‘Well”, said GM, ‘well Richard, um, I, ahh (chuckle), I condition it with...., obviously a little bit of your love ..’. Much laughter in the theatre.

Then GM commented further, (which I missed, sadly), to even more laughter.

Who knows what would have happened had GM been at the event in person?! There is so much more I could share, but you get the idea. 

Sophie wasn’t feeling the best during the last panel just before the close of the event, but she pushed through like a trooper. Rik said she had eaten too much chocolate. A weakness of Sophie’s. I think fatigue was catching up with both of them. They did so much.

Meagan presented Rik and Sophie with an Akubra (pron. uh·koo·bruh) each (iconic Australian outback hat) as a memento of their time here at Ozlander. Rik had the Crocodile Dundee style whilst Sophie’s was more demure. In his best aussie lingo, Rik said: ‘I’m Richard Dundee and this is my partner, Skippy (Sophie).’ (Referencing Skippy the bush kangaroo ? - a much loved Australian TV show 1968-1970). 

The Scottish Banner article promised an intimate relaxed chance to get to know stars from the Outlander TV series and I’m happy to say that this is exactly what we got. Whilst it’s a shame we didn’t get to know Ed, Graham or David better, we certainly got to know Rik and Sophie better than we had ever anticipated. As a result, I see Rik and Sophie in a new light, esp in S5, where they have more scenes together. In a small way, I’ve gotten to know a little of the person that inevitably informs their TV persona (ie facial expressions, mannerisms, speaking cadence and inflections). What a memorable time I had (can you tell?). Thanks to Rik and Sophie, the gathering organisers (who got a special mention on stage at the close) and the other fans I met there. Thanks for reading this far on a rather lengthy post.😊 I know it’s my take on the weekend, but I’ve tried not to editorialise it, but present it, as accurately as I can, hence, it may be a bit dry to read.😅  I think Ozlander is a great name and I look forward to Ozlander Fan Gathering 2021.  

Ozlander graphics: Ozlander Fan Gathering (I tweaked the circle logo in the title)

Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 selfie: Ozlander Fan Gathering

other photos: all permissions obtained    

Ozlander Fan Gathering article: The Scottish Banner February 2020

Sophie Skelton post: Instagram

global covid-19 cases stats: Wikipedia

[batmansymbol]

some stream-of-consciousness rambling about how i’m doing, mostly depressing

the good: my mom got off the immigration list and is going back to malaysia (under quarantine for the first two weeks) for proceedings and that’s the most important thing. she’s traveling there on very empty planes. i’ve been scared that they wouldn’t let her back in because she had to surrender her malaysian citizenship to get US citizenship because my country is built on arrogance disguised as patriotism. anyway - whatever - this is good news.

i went for a run for the first time today in my new neighborhood and baked chocolate chip cookies a couple days ago off my favorite recipe, which is a recipe that one of my closest friends wrote, and which i use whenever i want to feel a bit at home. she also sent me a care package over the weekend, which was lovely of her and has made me feel a little less isolated.

so - i’m up and about, even if my sleep is freshly wrecked. i’m in this weird numb place where i’ll drift around my apartment and feel sort of mismatched to my surroundings. sometimes something will spark a memory (an old red packet i kept bc it was pretty, a recorded voice on a speaker) and i’ll just start crying, and then soon afterward i’ll have this sensation of placement, where i’m very aware of my body’s posture and situation in whatever room i’m crying in, and it sort of shocks me out of crying, and then i straighten up and don’t know what to do.

i’ve been having weirdly normal text conversations with friends who don’t know anything has happened. i just don’t know how to bring it up but i feel like i’m lying when i don’t. i think it’s partially because of this that i’ve been feeling lonely, although i am glad this all happened after i moved into my own place, because i think it would be even more stressful to feel that i need to manage my emotions in order not to constantly depress a roommate.

TV and movies haven’t been helping, but reading has, interestingly. i guess with books there’s a mixture between immersion and action that feels helpful to me, as opposed to film, which washes over me and has been giving me almost a feeling of helplessness, certainly restlessness. there’s a book called the priory of the orange tree, an amazing standalone epic fantasy, that i highly recommend if anyone wants a (giant) new read. really helped knock me out of things for a bit.

i’ve begun to have these moments of fear before falling asleep that i’ll die in my sleep and no one will find my body for days because i’m not very good at communicating, so me not replying to someone’s text wouldn’t be that notable. i keep thinking about my poor health due to nutrition and lack of exercise (thus the run) and anticipating that i’ll be diagnosed with cancer or die of a heart attack. you would think the pandemic would factor into some of this, but i have barely thought about it beyond today, when i was running and trying not to breathe within six feet of passersby.

when i got back to my apartment after my run, my cute neighbor was just coming inside and we had a short conversation about the nearby parks. i thought about how it was unrepresentative for him to see me coming back from a run and he will probably think i am more responsible with my body than i actually am. i also thought about how that was the first in-person conversation i’ve had since friday. i went back inside and looked at my face in the mirror for two or three seconds and felt like i couldn’t really see or understand any of my features. i felt like i’d written that exact scene before.

writing. weird fucking time for that. i was supposed to receive my edit letter for Alone Out Here yesterday, but my editor hasn’t been in touch. i had to cancel a virtual appearance/workshop yesterday, too, and that was definitely the right call, i find myself with weird aversions to things i’m not usually averse to - i don’t want to video chat, i haven’t wanted to be seen. probably why it felt so strange to suddenly have a conversation with my neighbor. i was watching Dark on netflix yesterday and there was an operation scene that made me queasy, which was also unusual. i had to actually look away from the screen; can’t remember the last time i did that.

mostly i go around with the feeling that i’ve forgotten something, even when i’m the most acutely aware of circumstance. feelings of selfishness and disconnection and guilt and alienation cycle in and out. i feel absentminded and scatterbrained, i go from minor task to minor task with something like incomprehension. the dishes i have to do in small groups. same with bringing boxes down to the recycling bins. i have felt anger toward the united states for not engendering a sufficient feeling of belonging in me after 26 years of life here - i think if i felt at home, or like i was meant to be here, this wouldn’t have affected me so much. instead i feel as if for 26 years i’ve been making an incorrect choice to cleave toward western individualism rather than to foster a connection to my roots, and i feel as if the concept of the individual, who i am, is revealing itself to be increasingly ephemeral and unimportant. then i do things like write or take photographs of myself and think about what a narcissist i am.

i’ve been looking at apartments in dublin or london, thinking about how wonderful it would be to feel among family. but in considering moving overseas i catch myself also considering laughably pathetic things - chiefly i think about some man in ireland who stopped replying to my texts a year ago and design elaborate fantasies where we meet again and understand each other, and then i think about how i have never been able to love in the right way, how i unnerve myself with the volume of my own feelings, and then i’m back in this pit of the individual. i think about leaving the united states and immediately i’m trying to form fictional narratives about displacement and expatriation - how can i use this, that, or the other, how can i appropriate everything into fictional use. i think about how i am not honoring my grandfather’s memory and all this shit i’ve been doing is about my own precious fucking feelings. maybe it’s good that my edit letter is on an apparent delay, because the act of writing has never seemed more egocentric to me. what i really feel that i should do is shut up, yet here i am, i keep doing this, i keep going.