#it drives me crazy but every time i take it off the kitchen windowsill it always Magically returns.....

[gucciwins]

Weeping Willow

Harry sends his wife for a girl’s night, and their five-month-old baby falls sick.

Word count: 5,093

A/N: i am no expert on babies (unless it’s my almost two-year-old niece) but i have it on good authority this does bring down fevers. This was written for @tbslenthusiast dadathon. i hope you love it. xx

___

It's a Saturday night, and Harry tries his best to convince his wife to go out with her friends for a nice dinner while he cares for baby Willow.

Their five-month-old infant. The sweetest little girl to grace the earth in Harry's opinion. 

He's never felt a love like this, a never-ending love for his child. He swears he has never been more in love with his wife, his twin flame, for giving him the greatest gift he will ever receive. 

She's standing there cradling Willow in her arms as she begins to drift off to sleep. Humming a song she hasn't shared with Harry. Something special between mother and daughter. As much as Harry hates to admit it but their daughter is a momma's girl at heart. 

Willow feels that extra protection from her mother; he gives her all the cuddles and kisses, but there is no more special bond than when Y/N holds her close to her heart, and Willow settles down in seconds. When she is breastfeeding, Y/N tells her the stories of her childhood and when Harry and she were first dating. 

It's the irregular sleep schedule that Y/N has never once complained about. 

Harry wakes up at the oddest of times when he stretches his arms out to reach for Y/N to pull her close to his chest only to find her missing. More time than not, he'll find her at their windowsill, Willow getting her night time meal as Y/N gazes at the moon softly singing Lolo a lullaby that was once sung to Y/N. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look eternal as if she weren't real, and Harry just imagined up this life. 

But she is real, and she is all his, and their daughter is theirs. 

As a kid, this was the life he dreamed of, never knowing if it would come true or not. He will never stop being grateful for all he has in life, full of love. 

Harry is brought out of his thoughts when Y/N addresses him. 

"I don't know, H. She's a little warm." Y/N stands there, the back of her hand gently placed on her baby's forehead before moving it to Willow's cheek. She smiles down at her sleeping baby.

Harry sighs, extending his arms for her to hand him their small baby. She shakes her head, taking two steps back. 

Harry chuckles because he knew this would happen, but he forgot how stubborn she could be. 

She's wearing Harry's lilac robe, her hair curled, and makeup is done. He made her do a red lipstick because he missed it. It's one that Gemma gave her that's smudge and transfer free. Meaning he can kiss her with it all night long without his lips turning red. 

"Willow is fine. Maybe she passed some gas." 

She rips her gaze from Willow and shoots him a glare. He puts his hands up in defense. 

"If she starts feeling sick, you know the crying won't stop. She likes it when I soothe her."

"She's my daughter too. I can take care of her and soothe her just as good."

She kisses Willow's head, slowly continuing to grow brown curls just like Harry's. "I know you can, but there's this motherly instinct telling me not to go."

"My husband instinct is saying that my wife should go out to dinner with her friends for a nice dinner and some wine." Harry rebuttals. 

"I don't drink." She mutters into her baby's head as she adjusts her to lay on her chest as she sways side to side. 

"Well, then go crazy with the strawberry lemonade." 

She sighs. Harry knows she's close to giving in. 

Her clothes set out in bed, ready for her to throw on. Harry chose her outfit, and he's proud of it. Camel-tone flared fitted trousers, a black fitted v-neck, and a double-breasted twill blazer to tie the look. Her black Gucci 'sucker' boots waiting for her at the door to be slipped on then head out the door. 

"If I go, you have to promise to text me every hour." 

"Half hour if you really need it." He counters. 

She shakes her head, no. "If you do that, I'll be home by the second text." 

He nods, happy she agreed to go. She needs this no matter how much she had been fighting it. 

"Alright, Lolo, I'm going to leave you with your Daddy for a few hours. I hope you don't miss me too much. I'll make up for leaving you with cuddles for the whole night, munchkin." 

Harry's eyes well up, always in awe at the relationship between his wife and their daughter. Their beautiful five-month-old daughter who Harry, thinks is growing too fast. She's still on the small side, but the doctor assured them she was doing good. 

Y/N placed her in the crib that Harry put together with Gemma's help, who wanted to be involved with as much as Harry would let her. 

She stirs a little, but Y/N pats her chest softly, calming her down. 

"I'm going to go get dressed. Turn on the baby monitor, please?" She points in the direction of it.

"On it, love." 

She walks out and gets dressed quickly, knowing there's a reservation, and she doesn't like arriving late. Harry meets her downstairs baby monitor in hand as she stands boots safely on her feet. 

Harry shamelessly checks her out. He almost begs her to stay after seeing how good she looks, but he knows she needs this.

"Text me when you get there." He wraps her in a hug, not wanting to let go just yet. 

"Of course." 

She pulls back, looking up at him before leaning in to peck his lips three times; she walks out the door, bag in hand, when Harry tugs her wrist, turning her around connecting his lips with hers. It's a short passionate kiss, Harry's tongue fighting for dominance. She lets out a small moan. Y/N, let's Harry be the one to pull back, not at all wanting to break the kiss. 

Harry smirks as he sees the dazed look in her eyes. "Just so you know what you have waiting at home for you." 

"You menace." Harry leans on the door as she walks out. "I love you, H." 

"And I love you." 

Harry watched as she drove away before going back in and heading straight to the nursery, where his darling Willow is still sleeping.  

"Just you and me, Lolo," Harry whispers as he sits in the rocking chair and lays back to rest his eyes. It's like they say when the baby sleeps, he does as well. 

____

Harry wakes up when he hears a small sneeze. He peeks at Willow, but she still has her eyes closed. He picks up his phone to check how long he slept and is shocked. It was only twenty minutes; he felt like it had been much longer now, feeling a bit more energized. 

He sees a text Darling and opens it, 

I've arrived safely. 

I miss you both so much already. xx 

Harry can't help but smile. He misses her already. He might always be playing music in the house that fills the silence, but Harry only does it because she sings along to each song no matter how bad she can butcher the lyrics to an unknown song. 

She fills the home with warmth and love. 

I love you! Lolo is still sleeping. Have a lovely night. xx 

Harry sat in the rocking chair, just gazing at his daughter. Her cheeks were a little red, but he thought she might be a bit warm. He unwraps the blanket, just watching her stretch out her small fists. 

Willow slowly blinks her eyes open, a small smile on her face when she sees her father looking down at her. 

"You up, Lolo? No more sleep, I'm guessing." 

She continues to stare at Harry before turning her head to the door. Harry knows she's waiting for someone to come in. After a few moments of no movements, Willow looks at Harry, giving her a small smile.

"Waiting for your Mum, I know. She'll be back later; for now, it's you and me." 

Harry reaches in to pick her up, gently shushing her, not wanting her to start crying. He walks down the stairs slowly, the fear of tripping down the stairs more present than ever with his baby in his arms. 

Harry sits her on the couch, a pillow propped up on the back to help support her back, and grabs her stuffed bunny that was left on the coffee table. It's her favorite toy to play with at all times. 

Willow sets it in her lap, not at all looking at it, eyes on Harry. He sees her eyes begin to well up, and he knows the tears are coming. He scoops her up gently, letting the bunny fall to the floor so Harry could soothe his baby. 

"My Willo baby, no tears. You know it breaks my heart." He begins shushing gently. Gemma swears by it watching Alice do the Ss in New Amsterdam. Y/N does it too, her grandma teaching her that when she helped watch over younger cousins. 

This settles her for a second, resting her head in the crook of Harry's neck as he rubs a hand gently down her back. "Good baby, Momma would be proud of us." He knows he made a mistake once she lets out a loud wail. 

He can only assume the word Momma did it for her. 

His phone alarm begins to ring, meaning it's the hour update, and if he doesn't check-in, she'll call, and if he doesn't answer, she'll worry even more and drive herself more. He does not need that happening. 

Harry will not let her call; he'll send a sleeping photo of Willow to Y/N to keep her calm because he can do this. He can tend to his child alone. She's half of his DNA; why wouldn't he be able to. 

His Mum always told him babies cry for three reasons: dirty diaper, sleepy, and hunger. He assumes she's hungry. Has to be, her diaper doesn't feel full, and she also doesn't smell. 

As Harry goes to the kitchen, he stops at the fridge. He sees all the magnets that Y/N loves collecting when visiting a new country, state, or city. Her favorite being the Trevi Fountain. Tells her every time she sees it, she can see Harry down on his knee, tears in his eyes and heart wide open for her. Safe to say it became his favorite as well. Right under it is a yellow sticky note "Just in case xx Dr. Harp" The phone number of Willow's pediatrician. 

Y/N really is the best, but he knows that he has everything under control, or at least he keeps telling himself that as Willow continues her crying, no amount of words calms her. He'd also call his Mum before the pediatrician, who would only end up calling Y/N. 

"Mummy left your milk in the fridge; now, all we have to do is warm it up." 

Willow's cries go quiet for a second at what Harry can only think was at word milk. He can do this. 

They don't bottle feed her as often, both preferring her to breastfeed directly from Y/N. Harry encouraged her to pump milk because Y/N has complained over too many milk stained shirts. It has helped her tremendously. A few times, when Y/N was too tired to get up, he offered to warm the milk to feed Willow. Y/N knew how important it was for Harry, so she allowed him and began pumping more for Harry to help provide her during the day. 

He gets a bowl and fills it with hot water, then places the bottle in. He knows it should be a few minutes, he begins singing to Willow. He sings her the song he wrote for his sister, which holds meaning to Y/N now, finding a connection that makes them feel at peace when hearing the song. As Harry gently sings 'Sweet Creature,' he sees her settle, nose runny from the tears, he grabs one of her clothes that Y/N keeps in the kitchen. Truth be told, she has them spread all over the house to have one on hand when necessary. He wipes the snot then drapes it over his open shoulder. He checks the temperature, able to hear Y/N scold him in his head for wanting to skip the step. 

"Lolo, going to go sit down, and then you can begin eating." She blinks up at him, her green eyes unfocused, refusing to settle on one place of his face. 

He sits and adjusts Willow to cradle her in his arms. He does a final temperature check on his wrist and is happy with the outcome. He slowly brings it up to her lips to startle her, and she latches on after a few seconds. 

Harry leans back on the chair, releasing a long sigh. He feels victorious, even just for a moment. 

The phone on the couch seat next to him displays a text:

 I love you both. xx 

He's in the clear. 

Harry sings Willow the first song that pops into his head, well he mainly hums as she has her eyes closed and a fist clenched on her blanket and the other tucked in. He pulls the bottle away once he sees no more movement. He wipes the outside of her mouth very carefully to not disturb her. 

"Willow, Angel, I need to burp you. You shouldn't even feel it." Harry likes warning her; he knows she understands. 

He's done relatively quickly, settling her back in his arms to let her sleep. Harry would love to turn the television on, but he settles for staring at the angel in his arms. 

Harry frowns when he sees Willow's eyes flutter open. She sleeps longer after eating. 

"Lolo, it's barely been ten minutes. That's not enough for a growing baby. You need to grow up to be strong, just like Momma."

Willow lets out a small cough. It startles Harry, not having heard the sound before. He gently picks her up and begins patting her back, soothing her as she calms down. 

Harry thinks back to the phone number stuck on the fridge but shakes the thought away because one cough is not enough to make a call, especially this late at night. 

He is now slowly walking in front of the couch, trying to get her to fall back to sleep. It's not working. 

It starts off in small whimpers before turning into loud wails. 

This is not good. 

Harry tries his best to place his baby's cries, but it does not sound familiar. He isn't calling Y/N; worrying her is not part of tonight's plans, but there is someone in mind who will always answer him. Without thinking twice, he goes to favorites and picks the second person. 

"Hello love, how are you?" 

He's greeted by a calming voice, but it does nothing to soothe the pounding in his heart. "Hi, Mum." Harry isn't even sure she heard with Willow's loud cries. 

"Is something wrong? Why is little Willow crying? Where's Y/N?" Anne is quick to jump in.

"Today was her first girl's night out that I was insistent she go out to even though she didn't want to, but she should be back in the next hour or so." He addressed that question before jumping into the most important one. "Willow coughed then settled down before bursting into this cry. I've never heard it before. It's not her hungry one because she ate half an hour ago, and her diaper is clean." He lets out a sob he didn't know he was holding back. 

"Oh, dear, right. First off, is she hot? warmer than usual." 

Harry pulls her back, face scrunched up, nose full of snot. He places the back of his hand on his forehead, and it's burning. "Yes, she's warm. But couldn't it be from the crying?" 

Anne sighs, worried for her son, but this is parenthood having to see your child get sick and old help them through it. The first time is always the worst, but each time after that still breaks your heart. "No love, check her temperature and call the pediatrician. Tell her the symptoms, and you can go from there. Right, hang up, call Y/N, and the pediatrician in that order." 

Harry agrees to get her off the phone and to make the call right away. Anne knows Harry well enough that he will skip one important thing she told him to do, so she takes it upon herself to get it done. 

 He heads upstairs, sitting the still crying Willow in the crib as he searches for the thermometer he knows Y/N keeps next to the wipes for emergencies. He is quick to take off her shirt as gently as one can be and sticks it under her armpit as he waits for it to ring as he dials Dr. Harp.

There is an answer on the third ring, just as the thermometer beeps. 

"Dr. Harp, hello, it's Harry Styles, father of Willow Styles." He says in a rush.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, what can I do for you." The doctor's voice is kind, and it calms Harry knowing there's a professional helping him. 

"Well, my daughter slept about ten minutes before waking up after eating, and that isn't normal for her. She had a bit of a cough and has not stopped crying for the past twenty minutes now. She's burning up Doc. The thermometer says 103F. Shit, I meant 39C. My wife's family got us a fancy thermometer that gives us both numbers." He feels the need to explain a hand on the back of Willow's head, trying to calm her down as well as himself. 

"Well, it seems it could be a common cold. There is not a lot to do, except keep your baby drinking milk. Mrs. Styles is still breastfeeding, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay, it's important to keep her hydrated and check with her through the night. To bring down the temperature, a lukewarm bath would help as well as a humidifier because, from the sounds of it, she is a bit congested." 

Harry nods along to everything she is saying, repeating it back. "Thank you so much, Dr. Harp." 

"It's no problem; if the fever doesn't break or gets higher than 40C, then I suggest you head straight to the hospital." Dr. Harp says her goodbyes as he picks up Willow and heads to their bedroom, taking her into their bathroom. 

He looks around, not sure what to do first that he misses the sound of the door opening and closing as well as footsteps up the stairs. It might have also been Willow's crying. 

Willow lock's eyes with Y/N over Harry's shoulder, stopping for a second, causing Harry to gasp before she starts up louder than before for not being in her mother's arms. 

"Willow, darling," Y/N smiles at her daughter, cheeks red and nose snotty but still her beautiful baby. 

Harry feels like he can breathe properly now that she's home with him. His missing half home, finally feeling complete. He does feel awful for not calling her right away, but he swore she was having a good time. 

Harry hands over Willow to Y/N's waiting arms watching as she cradles her close, pressing repeated kisses to her daughter's brown hair. Willow instantly clenches a fist onto her necklace, not that Y/N minds, but Harry feels guilty for depriving his daughter of her mother. It was his fault she was out tonight. 

"How'd you get here so quick?" Are the first words Harry thinks to say. 

Harry thought she'd be mad at him for not calling, but all he sees are her kind and gentle eyes he fell in love with. 

"Anne called me to update me, but I was already ten minutes from home. I had dinner but got it to go having that nagging feeling you needed me. Anne called it mother's intuition, but" She breathes in Willow's smell, Harry finding it endearing how she always says she smells amazing like peaches. "I swear I could feel how distressed you were. I thought you were having a bad time, so I got you ice cream and brought home a meal we could share." 

He leans against the sink, a small grin forming on his face. "I did always tell you we were soulmates." 

Y/N steps further into the bathroom, heading to the tub to get the water-filled. She sits on the toilet, letting it fill before dipping her hand in from time to time. It feels a bit less than halfway before she closes the tap. 

"Doctor's orders were getting the temperature down, right?" Y/N asks Harry, and he nods. "Well, in the lukewarm bath, she goes." Y/N fakes as if she is going to place Willow in before hugging her to her chest once more. "I'm only playing." She boops Lolo's nose.

"Your momma thinks she's so funny, Lolo." Harry rolls his eyes at her, not at all, hiding the love behind them. 

"Get in the bath with her, H." Y/N has successfully undressed Willow, giving her kisses all over, causing Willow to let out a small giggle. 

Harry near tears now. "That's the first time she laughed this entire night." 

"Honey, listen. She hasn't gotten sick before. It's okay, we're learning." She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and he leans into it eagerly. "We are learning together." He nods as she pulls her hand away. "Now, do I need to undress my other baby as well?" 

He smiles. "You're welcome to, but I got this." He slips off the black shirt and grey sweats, leaving on his briefs.

The water is perfect. Not that he expected any different because she does everything with extra care and love for Willow. He's glad to have her as his life partner and mother of his child and future children. 

He slips in, sitting down, letting Y/N gently place Willow on his bent knees. He cups her head, gently sinking himself lower. She hands him a cloth, and he looks at her, eyes wide. 

"Wet it, rinse it a bit, then just sponge it around her." 

He nods but doesn't move to receive it. Y/N moves forward, dips it in the water, and squeezes it leaving a bit of water. She gently gets Lolo's back patting before moving down. 

"Thank you." He says and accepts the cloth. 

Y/N makes her way to the bedroom. "You're leaving?" He questions, causing Willow to look at her as well. 

She laughs at her two loves, both wanting her close. "Going to turn on the humidifier. It's going to be good for her and her congestion. Then will get you both a new change of clothes before coming back. Is that okay with you both?" 

Harry looks down at Willow that still has her eyes on her Momma. "What do you think, Lolo? Think we should let Momma take care of us." He hums as if hearing her response. "She said not to take too long." 

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

Harry settles in, Willow moving her hand in the water, intrigued by the ripples allowing Harry to rinse her. He feels good, feels great, and can honestly help her and no longer cry about it. 

Y/N knows he needs this but hopes she isn't feeling too awful about leaving Willow when she got sick for the first time.

For all, he knows she could be crying in their bedroom or, even worse, the nursery where he can't hear her. 

But that's what Harry is here to remind her what a fantastic team they are and how she saved the day like always. He's proud of her just as he knows she's proud of him. 

____

It's twenty minutes when Y/N walks back in. Now dressed in grey sweats and an old white shirt that Willow loves to cling on. She approaches, and Harry raises Willow so that she can wrap her in the yellow towel. 

"My munchkin smells so good." She kisses her cheek. She turns to look at Harry with a smile on her face making him smile back. "Shower, I'm going to dress her, and then I'll bring your clothes in."

"Okay, love." 

Harry drains the water before turning on the showerhead, letting the warm water wash away the stress in his body. He doesn't take too long, wanting to cuddle his two girls all night long.

Walking out, dressing in the warm clothes that she must have thrown in the dryer for him knowing how he likes to be warm after a long night. He smiles, slipping the shirt over his head, slipping on the black sweats with no need for briefs. Turning off the bathroom light, closing the door, he sees Willow lying on Y/N's chest. 

"How is she doing?" Harry paddles over, hovering over Y/N to kiss her forehead, doing the same to Willow.

"Better, the temperature is at 98." 

Harry smiles, glad she's under three digits again. She looks sweet dressed in a bodysuit with small bumble bees all over. Y/N wrapped the knitted mint green blanket that Y/N's mother made for Willow around her shoulder to keep her warm but not enough to overheat.

"That's great. Our baby is so strong." Harry gets in bed and sits against the headboard, making Y/N shift over to rest her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around Willow for support. 

____

It's an hour of silence basking in hearing their baby's breathing. Not as smooth due to the congestion but better than before. Harry places a kiss on Y/N's forehead when he feels the first tear, then many more follow. A sob breaking out, but breathing even to not disturb their sleeping baby on her chest. 

"Love, lovie, hey. Don't cry. She's doing better already." He wraps the arm tighter, hoping he can transfer all his love for her through the hug. 

"I'm just overwhelmed." She chokes out. 

Harry sits up to face her, reaches his hands out to wipe her rapidly falling tears.

"Please don't be mad with yourself; if there is anyone to be mad at, it's me." He pleads for her to understand. "I told you to leave us be." 

"Not mad at you, honey." She whimpers. "I-I-I'm upset I wasn't here to help you. But you handled it so well. Very proud of you." 

Harry sits there, tears falling out of his eyes now because she was proud. He did nothing. He knows he did nothing; he called his Mum and the doctor. He never got her to stop crying.

"I didn't do anything."

"Honey, you did." Her voice firm, one hand reaching up to gently raise his head to look at her. "You called Anne because you knew she would help and then called Dr. Harp for help." 

"But she never stopped crying, not until you held her." 

She shakes her head. "She was feeling bad, she cried at discomfort and unusual feelings. Might have also sensed your panic," She teases. He lets out a small chuckle. 

"We're a team. Together and apart, H." 

Harry lays down on his side, pulling Y/N down with him. He does it slowly to not move Willow; Harry lays his head on her shoulder, looking down at their baby. He lets himself relax, knowing she's going to be okay.

"I love you." He whispers. No response causing him to look up at a grinning Y/N. "Say it back." 

She giggles. "Thought you were talking to Lolo." 

"That was for you, wife." 

"My bad," She pecks his nose. "I love you, H." 

"Missed." He mutters, puckering his lips in her directions. 

"Dork." She closes the small distance and hums at the sweet taste that is Harry and mint toothpaste. He deepens it for a few seconds before pulling back. His eyes closed. He kisses her from her cheeks to her collarbones, no spot left untouched. He steals one more kiss before settling down. 

"Sleep tight, my darling, Willow," Harry whispers, throwing his arm over Willow's small body and Y/N's stomach for extra protection.

He peeks one eye open to see Y/N smiling down at Willow, no sign of sleep in her features. "I take it you won't be going out anytime soon again." 

"You got that right." She jokes. "No, it was nice. I forgot how good it is to chat about anything other than what size diapers she's going to need next."

"That's not all we talk about. We also talk about the size of your boobs." 

She snorts at his comment, and he happily joins in. 

"We haven't had a date night, well we have but indoors with a baby always in arms." 

Harry smirks. "What do you have in mind, love?" 

She blushes, "We go away for the weekend, leave Willow with Anne or Mitch since he keeps saying we keep his goddaughter away from him." 

"You'd be okay with that?" Harry checks, making sure she really wants this. 

She nods. "I'll miss her like crazy, my heart is beating faster just at the thought, but I miss you." There's a gleam in her eye, one when she gets lost in a memory. "It's quickies and late-night conversations. As much as I love our daughter, I miss my best friend." 

Harry grins, glad she's sharing this. "Any other time, I'd make a joke, but honestly, I miss you just as much." 

"Then, coordinate with Jeff on a weekend you're free and look for a place we can go to. Driving or flying whatever you find best." 

"Oh, baby, I'm going to make you fall in love with me all over again." 

"I'm counting on it, Harry." 

Harry helps Y/N drift off to sleep with his ideas of where they can go and all the naughty things they will get up to. 

Harry knows nothing in life will be better than being in the arms of his two favorite girls.

___

Thank you for reading. Please reblog it means a lot to me. 

Come and tell me what you thought of Weeping Willow 

[the-fiction-witch]

Playing with your hair

REAL LIFE

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SMUT

I sat on the sofa flicking though the channels on the tv, the blanket around me tightly, our cat cosmos sat on the other half of the sofa, I picked up my big polar bear mug having the last few sweet drops of my cup of tea. The warm log burner flickering at my feet, the sky darkening outside. I wanted another cup but I glanced to the clock on the wall above the dinning table, Thomas will be home soon so I won't bother to make another cup Thomas will want a coffee or a tea when he gets home and he'll likely be home soon he was only going on a photoshoot today. 

I heard the sounds of his motorbike revving down the street, Cosmos jumped off the sofa and headed towards his usual perk on the windowsill looking out to the driveway watching for then Thomas' bike would return to the drive way, I heard the noise much longer and it suddenly stopped I smiled holding my mug closer as I heard the door open and cosmos started meowing "Y/n?" He called 

"Hi Thomas" I called back "Coffee?" 

"Ohh you are an angel" He smiled "Yes please"

"Coming right up" I smiled getting up and going to the kitchen while he got all his gear off in the hall "How was the shoot?" I asked 

"Alright, got some nice shots and such." he shrugs "How was your day angel?"

"I watched a whole game of thrones season"

"Awww, we both had a good day" 

"Yeah we did, Cosmos is still pissed at you by the way"

"You where the one that made me take him"

"Yes because I'm here all day and you go places, so if he's mad at you it's easier to deal with then him being mad at me"

"I know, I'm sorry cosmos. Mummy made me take you to the vet. I didn't want to mummy made me do it"

"Nope he's still pissed at you" I giggled 

"Just mad I'm the one who took him"

"And because you have what he doesn't"

"That's a good point" He says leaning on the kitchen door and I had a little bit of a heart attack "what?"

"What... what has happened to your hair?"

"Ohh they curled it for the shoot"

"Hu...."

"Is it okay? or do you want me to go wash my hair and put it back to normal?"

"No, I like it. You look cute" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss and handing him his coffee 

"Aww thank you angel" He smiled giving my lips a little kiss "what do i look like?"

"Like a pixie"

".... thanks?"

"I like pixies" 

"You are so mean to me sometimes" he sighed heading back to the living room with his coffee

"What! I like pixies!" I smiled 

"That doesn't mean you should call your boyfriend one" He sighed

"Would you rather I called you sexy?" I giggled following him and cuddling him from behind 

"I would" he smirked "Id rather you call me sexy all the time?"

"You are sexy all the time"

"Aww thank you angel, so do you like my hair?"

"Very much," I smiled tugging them along to the staircase and up to our bedroom, he smirked excitedly as I pushed him in our bed and then went around to my side and climbed in "movie time" I giggled

"Ooh... I thought we where gonna, have fun?"

"Maybe later' I smiled

"Alright angel, movie time" he smiled tucking the covers around us both and getting cosy cuddled up together as we picked a movie out on netflix, I smiled nuzzling into Thomas' chest as usual he smiled holding me close to him often giving my head kisses. I moved my hand up to his neck which didn't even attract his attention and as I did I moved my hand to gently play with the little locks on the edge of his hair, playing with the spring of his curls giggling all the while, "what are you up to?" He laughs noticing my giggles

"Playing with your hair"

He shot me a questionable look before he sighed and moved to lay on his back but still see the tv, with his head in my lap "go nuts"

"Yay! Thank you Thomas" I giggled sitting and winding my fingers around his curls, gently playing with his hair as we watched the movie cosmos wondered in and sat on the window sill a while later, until Thomas spoke up

"Oww" he complained as I had clearly moved to hard or something

"Sorry Thomas"

"Am I to take it you like my hair like this?"

"It's fun, and new"

"Is it now? Maybe... It's my turn for a little fun" he smirked giving my thighs some kisses

"Oh? What sort of fun?"

"You'll find out angel" he smirked moving to kneel infront of me giving my lips a gentle kiss, I happily kissed back my hands instantly migrating back to playing with his hair as we passionately kissed, he pulled back and bit his lip a little before moving the covers away from me, he knelt down and yanked me down the bed so my head was on the pillow making me giggle like crazy as he now sat between my legs he smirked at me as he began pressing kisses up my legs I giggled Innocently the higher he got till he moved my dress and began kissing my panties "this sort of fun what you want?" He asked

"Yes please"

"Alright angel" he winked pulling my panties off my legs with his teeth he pushed my thighs apart and moved close he attacked my clit with kisses and licks, making sure to kiss every inch that he could of me, he focused his attention in my clit, licking, kissing and sucking, as he pushed his two long fingers inside me gently and slowly finger fucking me in time with his kisses I gasped and groaned feeling the bubbles of pleasure it caused me, holding his hair and twisting my fingers around the curls like a 80's movie girl would around a phone cord playing with his hair all the time he kissed me, often tugging on it when I wanted him to go faster or slower, I knew I was getting close and so did he so he became more mercilous I tugged his hair often to make him slow but he ignored me, I tightened my thighs around his head and pulled his hair hard as I hit my orgasum, he smirked against me and let me ride it out before he sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand "happy angel?"

"Very happy" I smirked grabbing his shirt and flipping us over so he laid on the bed he smirked immediately picking up in what I was doing to him, I undid his jeans and Agressively pulled them off his legs along with his boxers revealing his hard six inch cock, his hand went to the draw but I stopped him "not tonight" I smiled making him look very excited, as I moved over him and slowly slipped down till he was as deep inside me as possible

"Ughh fuck angel!" He groans twitching and grinding as he got settled "you hardly ever let me go raw, somebody must really like my hair" he smirked trying to kiss me but I pushed him back resting my hand on his stomach and bouncing moving my hips so he moved from just the very tip to his base over and over he held my neck pulling my head to rest on his, the other on my butt. I went quickly already feeling how close he was "fuck angel! I love when you ride me y/n!" He groans lost in his own world a little I smirked and pulled his head to nuzzle with my breasts which me was very happy to do so, and it let me play around with his hair some more until he moved up hard and grabbed my hips finishing as deep inside me as possible slightly leaving a hiki in my breasts where he didn't wanna moan "... I love you angel"

"Love you too Thomas" I giggled letting him pull out and we both collapsed on our own sides of the bed just as we did I heard a pop up on the tv netflix was asking if we where still watching

"Ohh fuck off netflix we were busy" he smirked turning the tv off "so? I take it you like when I curl my hair then?"

"Very much" i giggled nuzzling into his chest

"Good, because it takes an hour and a curling iron"

"..... Well that can fuck off." I said back

[marvelyningreen]

Aftershocks - Night 3

Night 1 | Night 2 | Night 3 | (deleted scene)

[Summary: Peter Maximoff is an unflappable sorta guy. He’d never let anything get to him before, and this recent misadventure will be no different. ...Right?

Warnings: mild language, references to injury and mind control, general trauma-related angst

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the established relationship variety. A ‘what if Fietro really was Peter?’ scenario. Same continuity/reader character from Linger and Late-bloomer.

Tag list: @cowboyenorgy ]

On the third night after your return from Westview, you finally go back to the groundskeeper’s cottage. You figure that it’s time to try getting back to normal, and Peter agrees. If you need anything, neither of you will be far from the other X-Men, or from each other, right? And to be honest, you’re looking forward to sleeping in your own bed again.

That, and Peter’s been running hot and cold on you again today.

In the morning, he’d been all sweet and attentive still. You’d felt a little guilty about sleeping in his bed while he’d slept on the couch, but he brushed off your attempts to apologize. He was fine, he’d insisted, and you were the one who was injured.

He’d asked you to stay put and then disappeared, returning a few minutes later to bring you breakfast in bed. And, apparently in the spirit of going full Jane Austen on you, he’d asked Hank to make a house-call.

After re-examining your injured knee, Hank determined that you hadn’t made it any worse, but you hadn’t done it any favors, either. Exasperated, he asked if you’d please just use the crutches for a few days, and between his insistence and Peter’s puppy-dog eyes, you’d agreed to.

Peter had to dash off again after breakfast to help the professor with the twins. Only, this time, you didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

You ended up wandering aimlessly around the mansion for a while, wondering what on earth to do with yourself. There’s not much groundskeeping to do in the winter to begin with, so you’d started doubling as a substitute teacher when other faculty members were away on missions.

Unfortunately for you, all the full-time teachers were present. You wouldn’t have anything to do even if Professor Xavier hadn’t given you mandatory time off. As you were pondering this, you turned the corner to see Wanda standing alone in the hall, gazing out the window.

She didn’t seem notice you. For a moment, you considered turning and walking the other way. Maybe she didn’t want to be bothered right now. Maybe she wanted to be alone. But then again…

“Hi,” you said, before you could chicken out.

Wanda stared at you for a second before seeming to remember.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “You’re Peter’s…?”

“Right.” And you reintroduced yourself, just to be on the safe side. You smiled, and Wanda smiled thinly back, and there were a few seconds of silence. Oh boy. Awkwardness settled in. “So… how are you holding up?”

You asked it as though you were talking to a friend, and it only seemed to highlight the fact that Wanda hardly knew who you were. You’d actually spoken to Vision more than you had to her when you were in Westview, but… Well, that was neither here nor there.

“Alright, I think,” Wanda said. “Everyone here has been very kind.”

You nodded. “They’re a welcoming bunch.”

“But out there…” Wanda turned her gaze back to the window. “They tell me people hate your kind, fear you.”

“Some do,” you admitted. “But many don’t. It’s been getting better for mutants for quite a while now, and it’s going to keep getting better.”

“And you believe that?”

There was something harsh and cold in Wanda’s tone. You’re reminded of how much she’d lost, and how alone she’d been – how alone she still was.

“I do,” you said quietly.

Silence again. It was hard for you to get a read on Wanda. If she was giving some sort of clear signal that she wanted you to leave her alone – but she wasn’t. Before things could get awkward again, you blurted out:

“How do you feel about krofne?”

Wanda laughed, as though the question caught her off-guard, and tilted her head. “It’s been a long time since I had krofne. I like them, though.”

That was a relief. You don’t know a whole lot of recipes from the Balkans, so you would’ve been out of ideas if that didn’t exist in Wanda’s reality.

“I’ll have to make some later this week. You see that little groundskeeper’s cottage over there?” You pointed it out to her. “That’s where I live. It’d be great if you and your kids could stop by sometime.”

For a second, Wanda’s smile faltered, and you wondered if you’d overstepped yourself.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you added hurriedly, “Or if you’d rather wait a while until you’re settled in. It’s just… I mean, I know the circumstances are completely different, but I was pretty alone when I first came here, too. I’d like to try and be your friend. Or if that’s too much, I could settle for being a tolerable acquaintance or something.”

“No, it’s alright. You just… reminded me of someone for a moment,” Wanda’s smile was still a little sad, but it seemed to come easier that time. “I’d love to bring the boys over to visit. Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

Some furtive whispering caught your attention, and you and Wanda both looked towards the source of the sound.

Ororo with a group of younger students following her like ducklings was a pretty familiar sight. She easily stepped in to the role of cool big sister for the students. She smiled at you, nudging the three girls in your direction.

“Go ahead and ask,” she said.

One of the little girls stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” she said, “The older kids said you would help us with our homework.”

She glanced back at Ororo, who gave her an approving nod.

You grinned apologetically at Wanda. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around.”

She’d smoothed the sadness out of her expression as she bid you farewell and went back to gazing out the window.

“Alright,” you said, turning your attention to the girls, “Let’s find someplace to sit down, okay? Then you can tell me what you’re working on.”

Kurt ends up walking you back to the cottage late in the afternoon. The sun sets so early in the winter, and you want to get home before it’s completely dark out. That, and you’ve given up on seeing Peter again today.

Once he’s certain that you’ll be alright on your own, Kurt takes his leave. You notice that, instead of heading straight back to the mansion, he takes the garden path. You guess that he’s heading for the little Mary garden to say a prayer or two for Vision. Kurt’s a kind soul. Even only knowing Wanda for two days, he already sees her as family.

You go about the cottage, turning on lights and looking into every room. You’re not sure why. It’s not like anything would’ve changed in the few days you’d been gone. Maybe it’s just reassuring to see it all again: the bright little kitchen, the living room with its tiny hearth and comfy loveseat (not enough room for a full sofa), your own room with all the shelves piled high with books…

And the plants on your windowsills aren’t dried out, like you’d expected. You wonder who’d been kind enough to water them for you, and resolve to ask around tomorrow.

Without giving your mind a chance to wander, you give yourself something to do. Strawberry-rhubarb pie. That’s what Peter had mentioned.

It just so happens that you do have a few jars of pie-filling left from that summer’s canning. All you’ll have to do is make up a crust and bake it. Simple enough. You put on some music and get to work.

But it’s not enough to keep your thoughts in check. When cutting a vent into the top crust, you shape it like the outline of a hummingbird. Maybe it’ll make Peter smile. You hope it will, at least.

He seems alright more often than not, but you still don’t know what’s wrong or how to help him, and the professor’s counting on you to do just that. And so, apparently, is Mr. Lehnsherr.

You’re surprised he’d stayed for the party last night. Then again, he usually ends up staying at the mansion a few days longer than he’d planned to. You can’t say for certain, but you figure Peter’s got something to do with it.

And it was Peter that Mr. Lehnsherr wanted to talk about when he approached you at the party.

He thanked you for going after him when he was taken, saying that it was a brave thing to do. You’re certain that Mr. Lehnsherr would’ve done the same, if he’d been there at the time, and you said as much. He laughed, saying that was beside the point. His gaze had drifted back to Peter.

“That boy needs someone to look after him sometimes. I suppose I’m glad that he’s found someone who will. And as for you…” His words trailed off, like he’d changed his mind on what he wanted to say. He smiled faintly and patted your shoulder. “Take care, alright?”

And with that, he’d drifted back to his conversation with Wanda, leaving you a little mystified.

Look after Peter. That’s pretty much exactly what the professor had said to you, too. But how? By making him pie? Let’s be honest – if a problem can’t be fixed with baked goods, then you’re at a loss.

You try to reassure yourself with the idea that the professor had left the situation up to you, personally. If it was anything truly dire, you knew that he’d step in to take care of it.

But then again, the professor is the sort that focuses on the bigger picture. Sometimes he loses sight of the immediate circumstances. Which is why it’d been delegated to you, which brings you right back where you started.

While you’ve been thinking yourself in circles, the pie has finished baking. You take it out of the oven to cool. The hummingbird shape has survived the baking process, so that’s good. The pie failed as a distraction, though.

All you’ve been able to think about is Peter. You love him, and something’s wrong, and you don’t know what it is, so you don’t know how to help. It’s going to drive you crazy at this rate.

Even the music you’re listening to is one of the mixtapes Peter made for you. You start getting bummed out halfway through “Rainbow in the Dark,” and you only make it through the first chorus of “Kiss Me Deadly” before turning it off entirely.

You retreat to the living room, sitting down and gazing through the window, across the grounds to the lights of the mansion. It’d started snowing that evening. You’d always liked snow. It makes everything seem cozy. It makes the silence of the night feel soft and homey, rather than empty.

Oh, what the hell. You give up on trying not to think about Peter.

When you first came to work at the school, you mostly kept to yourself. That was back when you thought that lackluster telekinesis was the extent of your abilities, before you learned you were a reality warper. You’d felt shy and inadequate in the presence of all these incredibly powerful mutants.

You’d later learned that almost everyone at the school thought you weren’t a mutant at all. They assumed that Professor Xavier had hired a regular human as some sort of PR stunt. And since you barely spoke to anyone, they weren’t disabused of the notion for a long time.

And then Peter showed up.

It wasn’t like the other faculty stopping by to introduce themselves – kind and friendly, but mostly there out of obligation. Peter showed up unannounced, and he was…

Well, he was a flirt. And you were certain he was only there for the pie. Still, you would’ve found it difficult not to be charmed by him.

He was cheerful and blunt, somehow both self-assured and self-deprecating. His sense of humor was as quick as his tongue. There was no such thing as an awkward silence when talking to Peter Maximoff. Not to mention the fact that he was exceptionally cute.

He asked if you’d be okay with him coming by again, and of course you said yes. He was at the cottage often after that – trying out your cooking and offering suggestions of music you should check out. You quickly realized that you weren’t nervous about his visits. You actually looked forward to them.

That was when the little groundskeeper’s cottage at Xavier’s school finally started to feel like home. And even if correlation doesn’t equal causation, you always felt that Peter was the reason for it.

You oughta do something nice for him. More than just the pie, that is. He could devour that thing in seconds if he wanted to. You should take him out on a date. Peter always loves a concert. You’ll have to ask around, see what local bands are playing in the coming week.

But that isn’t exactly something you can do at the moment. It’s the middle of the night. Right now, you really oughta get some sleep. After stowing the pie in the refrigerator and making a half-hearted attempt to clean up the kitchen, you turn off the lights and head off to bed.

You’d forgotten how nice it feels to sleep in your own bed after being away from it for days. You close your eyes, listening to the breeze winding around the cottage. This is alright. You’re alright. The mansion isn’t far. You’re not alone.

You’re… not alone.

Was that the door? That sound wasn’t the wind.

You’d long since given Peter permission to show up in the cottage unannounced. You’d even given him his own key.

So really, you shouldn’t be surprised, but you still jump when you roll over and see Peter standing in the doorway. You nearly knock the lamp off the table as you fumble to turn it on.

There’s something off about Peter, beyond the fact that he’s suddenly appeared in your room in the middle of the night – and, admittedly, that’s a first.

His smile is as hesitant as it’s been since he got back from Westview, but no more so. There’s unmelted snow on his shoulders, and –

Wait. Snow? Why would there be snow on his jacket? He’s too fast for that, unless…

You scramble out of bed, hurrying to him. “Peter? What’s going on? How long were you outside?”

“Oh, I’m… I’m not really sure, actually,” he says. “I figured you were sleeping, and I wasn’t sure if I should wake you up, so…”

As he speaks, you reach out to touch his face, his hands. They’re like ice.

“My God, you’re half frozen,” you say.

Ignoring his half-hearted assertions that he’s fine, really, you pull Peter into the living room. Telekinetically, you maneuver a couple logs onto the still-glowing embers in the fireplace, and while that’s happening, you tend to Peter.

He lets you take his jacket, and you sit him down on the loveseat, bundling him up in your warmest, fluffiest fleece blanket. Maybe you’re overdoing it just a little. But Peter’s almost never cold, and he certainly never stands still long enough to get covered in snow. You don’t want him getting sick on top of everything he’s already been through.

Satisfied that the fire’s been sufficiently stoked, you sit down next to Peter, taking his hands in yours to rub some warmth into them.

That sort of dazed expression has left his face, and now he just looks amused. Maybe he’s feeling better now that he had a chance to warm up. Or maybe seeing you go from zero to caretaker-mode in two seconds is funny to him. And if that’s it… well, fair enough.

Peter gives your hands a squeeze. “Listen, if you’re gonna make me into a burrito, the least you could do is join me in here. Shared body heat, and all that. I’ll warm up faster.”

He grins and bobs his eyebrows at you, lifting one edge of the blanket invitingly.

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right,” you say wryly.

You skootch under the blanket, leaning up to kiss Peter’s cheek before snuggling up next to him. He’s still radiating cold. You take his hands again.

“Care to explain yourself?” you say.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “I wanted to check on you. Your leg’s still hurt, y’know? And you’re all alone out here, and…”

Peter trails off. That surface-level explanation isn’t fooling you anymore, and he knows it. He sighs, breaking eye contact.

“I didn’t wanna be alone,” he says, softly. “Westview, it… it messed me up, and I’m not over it yet. I feel like I should be okay by now, but I’m not. I’m sorry, but I just-”

“Peter, don’t apologize,” you say. “It’s okay. Nobody expects you to completely bounce back from something like that in two days.”

“I expect me to.”

There’s that wry, self-deprecating grin again. It claws at your heart just a little. Peter genuinely is a pretty unflappable guy, all things considered. But sometimes you get the feeling that it’s because he feels like he has to be. Not that he’s putting it on, exactly, more that he’s hiding behind it.

“People here have gone through so much worse,” Peter shakes his head. “My dad, Jean, Wanda…”

“That doesn’t negate what happened to you,” you say, “And I care about what you went through. I care about you.”

Peter purses his lips and blinks rapidly as he nods, and says nothing.

Over the past few years, you’ve gotten close to Peter – closer than you’ve ever been with anyone else. You realize just now that you don’t think you’ve ever seen him cry.

“Listen, you don’t have to,” you say, “But do you want to talk about it?”

Peter takes a deep breath, like he’s steadying himself. But instead of saying anything, he leans over to bury his face in your shoulder. You immediately wrap your arms tight around him.

“I remember all of it,” he says at length, his voice quiet and shaky. “I just… It was horrible. I was scared. I was so scared.”

This doesn’t surprise you, but it stuns you. Peter gives the impression of being an open book, but he isn’t – not really. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so vulnerable. You keep silent and gently rub his back, giving him space to speak when he’s ready.

“The whole time, I was still in there, watching everything she made me do, hearing everything she made me say. I tr-” Peter breaks off, and swallows hard before going on. “I tried to get her out of my head, but I couldn’t.”

Now that he’s started speaking, Peter can’t seem to stop. Still clinging to you, still hiding his face against your shoulder, the words keep pouring out of him.

“God, you… you don’t know what it was like, having somebody take over and use you like a puppet. I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t run. I was trapped. I-I was completely helpless. She made me lie to Wanda, pretend to be her dead brother, say these awful things. She could’ve made me hurt the kids, or Monica, or you – and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

“Peter…” you say, not quite knowing what you can say in this moment.

But Peter shakes his head, leaning more heavily against you.

“You don’t understand. You don’t understand – she was going to. When you came back for me at the end, when you tried to stop me, I… Now every time I look at you, I keep thinking about how close I was to hurting you. If Monica hadn’t broken that necklace, I would’ve-”

He stops abruptly, and his body is suddenly wracked with silent sobs. You hold him all the more tightly as his hands grip onto your shirt like he’s holding on for dear life.

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” you say. “I’m here.”

So this is what he’d been hiding – what he’d been pretending to have forgotten.

For a second, a spark of rage flares up in your chest, and you think that Wanda let the witch off too easy for what she’d done. But the feeling quickly smothers itself. Revenge won’t undo what’s already been done, and it certainly won’t help Peter now.

You can’t fix what’s hurting him like you could a cut or a bruise. All you can do is stay and love the hell out of him while he heals.

Slowly, his shuddering breaths grow steadier. You hold him until him he moves to sit back. He lets his hands fall in your lap. He doesn’t look up.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbles.

You shake your head, taking his hands.

“You’re allowed to cut yourself some slack, you know,” you say. “I know - that’s absolutely not your M.O. And your way can help; if you act like everything’s okay, sometimes you feel more like everything’s okay. But it can also help to be blunt about things. What you went through was traumatic, Peter. You’re allowed to say that. You’re allowed to feel it.”

He says nothing. His gaze is still fixed downwards.

“Peter, look at me,” you say gently. “Please?”

He lifts his head, and the sight of his tear-streaked face almost breaks your heart. You pull your sleeve down over your hand and use it to blot away the tears. Peter’s mouth trembles for a moment and his eyes close, but he doesn’t break down again. He just leans into your touch.

“I’ll be right back,” you say softly, kissing him on the cheek.

You hurry into the kitchen and return with a glass of water and a cool washcloth. Sitting back down, you first hand Peter the glass.

“Here,” you say, “You’ll feel better if you drink some water, trust me.”

He follows your advice, and after he’s taken a few sips and sets the glass aside, you hand him the washcloth. He scrubs his face, and then the back of his neck, and then looks a little confused as to where he’s supposed to put the washcloth. With a flick of your hand, it floats off to the kitchen sink.

You study Peter’s face for a moment. He seems to have worked the distress out of his system, or at least the first wave of it. Now he just looks exhausted. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“Okay, that was… That was a lot,” he says.

Understatement of the century. It’s incredibly jarring to see the cheerful, unshakeable Peter Maximoff break down completely like that. But more than that, it worries you that he was trying to keep this buried.

“Now I get why the professor was so adamant about you taking some time off,” you say.

Peter shoots you a half-hearted grin. “Yeah… I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda trying to prove him wrong. But he was right, as usual.”

“It’s okay to give yourself time to work through this,” you say. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to go around telling everyone what you’re feeling, but… you can always tell me.”

Peter slouches down in his seat a little, leaning close to nestle his head against your shoulder.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he says at length.

“Hate to break it to you, but that ship has sailed,” you say, fondly. “If you’re not okay, you can tell me. And if there’s something you’re not ready to talk about, you can tell me that, too. I’ll be here for you when you are.”

“Can you do me a favor?” he asks, sounding a bit hesitant. “Could you, like… check in with me now and then? Because if it’s up to me to start that kinda conversation, I get the feeling that I just… won’t. At least not right away. It’s a bad habit I gotta unlearn.”

“You can count on me,” you say.

“Well, I knew that already. But, y’know, thanks.”

You sit in silence for a moment, and you’re starting to wonder if Peter’s fallen asleep when he speaks up again.

“I don’t think I ever actually thanked you,” he says, “For coming to my rescue, I mean. Everything that you went through trying to bring me home-”

You squeeze his hand, interrupting him before he can start spiraling.

“Peter, don’t start beating yourself up over this. I love you, alright? I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if I had to. I mean, hopefully I won’t ever have to, but still,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, but still. In this case, a thank-you isn’t the kinda thing you wanna leave unsaid.” Peter sighs, then laughs a little. “My dad’s right about you, y’know.”

“Wait, what did he say about me?” You shouldn’t be surprised by it, but you’re slightly alarmed by the idea of Mr. Lehnsherr discussing you with Peter.

“He said, ‘Peter, when you find someone who cares about you that much, don’t ever take it for granted,’” he says, in a fair imitation of Mr. Lehnsherr. “‘Very little is certain in this world. See that you take care of that one.’”

“He didn’t say that,” you say, falling back on denial in the face of such a compliment.

“He did,” says Peter. “And he also said that you make the best apple strudel he’s ever tasted, so there’s that.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Still… it’s kinda nice to think that Mr. Lehnsherr approves of you. He is Peter’s dad, after all.

At hearing you laugh, Peter smiles a little, and then moves to sit up straight again, running his hands through his hair.

“I should… I should head out,” he begins.

“Why?” you interrupt. “It’s late already. Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t think I’m gonna fit on this thing,” he says, gesturing at the loveseat, “And there’s no way I’m taking your bed.”

“Do you kick in your sleep?”

Peter tilts his head, not quite following. “No…?”

“Then the solution is simple,” you say. “We can share my bed.”

There’ll be enough room. It’s actually kinda funny that most rooms in the mansion only have twin-sized beds, but they managed to squeeze a queen-sized mattress into the cottage’s tiny bedroom.

“Are you sure?” says Peter. “I mean, I can get back to my room in seconds, y’know, and with your knee still hurt, I don’t wanna put you out…”

You smiling faintly at him. Still trying not to worry you, is he?

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you say, “But I recall you saying that you don’t want to be alone right now.”

Peter laughs and looks at the floor. “I don’t. Is it… is it really okay for me to stay?”

“I want you to stay,” you reassure him. “Come on.”

You push aside the blanket, and Peter helps you to your feet. You keep hold of his hand and start to lead him back to your room. But after a few steps, Peter stops abruptly, tugging at your hand.

“Wait a minute,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

Peter goes to where you’d hung up his jacket and starts rummaging through the pockets.

“Would you believe this thing was in my pocket the whole time I was in Westview?” he asks absently. “I’d been carrying it around for a week already, and… Well, you know me. Timing was never one of my strengths.”

Peter turns back, flashing you that self-deprecating grin of his – and gets down on one knee.

“Peter…?”

It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. For a second, you have the strangest certainty that you must be misinterpreting the situation, until you see the ring box in his hand.

He shakes his head, looking up at you earnestly.

“Listen, I know I’m a mess right now,” he says, “And if you want me to ask again at a better time, someplace a little more romantic, then I will – but I want to say this now. I have to, because… because nothing in life is certain, except for the fact that I love you.”

Peter takes your hand, pressing it to his lips, murmuring your name. You’re dimly aware that everything that isn’t nailed down has started to float into the air, but none of that matters. As far as you’re concerned, the only thing that exists in this moment is Peter – his hand holding yours, his smile, his big dark eyes gazing up at you.

“In the darkest, loneliest, bleakest moments of my life, you were the hope inside me that wouldn’t quit. And you can’t shrug it off or say I’m biased, because it isn’t just me,” he says. “You have brightened this place for so many people. For the students, for Kurt, for Hank, even for the professor, even for my dad, and you’re already trying to do the same for Wanda, too.”

If not for the roof above you and the anchoring warmth of Peter’s hand holding yours, you feel that you could float off over the moon. You could turn the winter to spring if he asked you to.

“You asked me to stay. I’ll stay forever, if you’ll have me,” he says. “Will you marry me?”

You want to say something eloquent. You want to tell him so many things – how much his unshakeable faith in you means to you, how you’d cross a hundred realities and face twice as many witches to make sure that he’s home and safe and happy, how much you love him – but you can’t find the words.

There’ll be time for all that later. Peter’s gazing up at you, and though there’s urgency in his expression, there’s not even the tiniest shred of doubt.

There are so many things you want to say, but all you can manage is, “Yes.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and an ecstatic smile tugs at his mouth.

“Yes…?” he repeats.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yes.”

If Peter beams any harder, he’ll literally start glowing. He slips the ring onto your finger, and it fits perfectly. Knowing him, he probably used his speed to find out your ring size without you ever knowing, the sneak.

He looks back up at you. Though it’s still obvious that he’d been crying not long before, his smile perfectly, genuinely happy. It’s the smile you first fell in love with, the one you haven’t seen since before he was taken, and –

And suddenly your lips tremble. Tears start welling up in your eyes. You press your hand to your mouth, blinking hard.

Peter stands hurriedly.

“Don’t cry!” he says, “Please? Because if you start crying, I’m not gonna be able to hold it together over here.”

“I’m trying!” you blurt out, laughing in spite of yourself. “I’m just really happy, okay?”

Peter pulls you close and kisses you. You wish that you’d never have to let go. And when the kiss ends, Peter keeps his arms around you.

You take a moment to look more closely at the ring. It’s a simple gold band with a single stone – an opal. Flecks of pale, fiery colors flicker within it as you shift it in the light.

“I know it’s not a diamond,” Peter says. “I kinda thought this suited you better. Diamonds seems so… ordinary, I guess, but you’re our Wild Card. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you something else. I just-”

“Peter,” you interrupt. You lace your fingers through his, smiling up at him. “It’s perfect.”

He smiles, and then a curious expression takes over. He tilts his head slightly, sniffing at the air. “Did you make a pie?”

You laugh. “Strawberry rhubarb, as requested. Do you want a piece?”

“Y’know, for once in my life?” Peter raises his eyebrows, incredulous with himself. “I don’t think I could eat a thing. I know I’m repeating myself here, but tonight’s been… a lot.”

“It’ll make a good breakfast, then,” you say. “Come on. We could both use a good night’s sleep.”

Nevermind that it was already past one in the morning. Telekinetically turning off the lights as you go, you lead Peter back to the bedroom.

It feels so… natural. It feels ordinary in the best way possible. After the chaos, the worry, the breakdown – something so domestic feels strangely cathartic. Just you and your fiancé, getting ready for bed, thinking about what you’re gonna have for breakfast the next morning.

There are plenty of uphill battles to face tomorrow, and in the days to come. But for now, a few moments of peace are more than welcome. And Peter is still Peter. He’s making himself right at home. In a blink, he’s down to his t-shirt and boxers, and settling himself in on the far side of the bed.

“Oh… Oh man, this is nice,” he says. He lays his head back on the pillow and somehow seems to sink further into the mattress, then immediately raises his head again. “You’re still sure you’re okay with me staying?”

You snort. “I just agreed to marry you. Yes, you can stay.”

“Well, it never hurts to be sure.”

And with that, he snuggles back under the comforter. Ridiculous and sweet as ever – and you wouldn’t want him any other way. You’re still worried about him, but it’s not the same sort of worry. You’ll always be worried about his safety and health and wellbeing, but you can trust that he won’t shut you out again, and that’s reassuring.

Turning off the last light, you climb into bed as well. For a moment, you both stay on your separate sides. Then Peter skootches closer, and then a little closer, and then closer again until he’s nestled against your side.

There’s a few seconds of silence before you both break down into giggles.

“Listen, I never shared a bed with somebody before,” Peter says.

“Me neither,” you admit.

“It’s nice, though.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

Peter wraps one arm comfortably around your waist.

“Can we maybe keep talking for a while?” he says. “Not, like, about anything specific. I just don’t wanna start overthinking again.”

He lets out a self-conscious laugh, and you lace your fingers through his. Hmm… Well, there is something you’ve been wondering about.

“I gotta ask,” you say, “Did anybody know that you were going to propose? Besides the professor, I mean.”

“In my defense,” says Peter, “I didn’t actually tell him. He just did that thing, you know? You’ve got something on your mind, and then you look up and you make eye contact with the professor, and then it’s straight panic because you know that he knows. But, uh, aside from him it was just my mom and my dad.”

Suddenly, that strange little exchange you’d had with Mr. Lehnsherr last night makes a lot more sense.

“He’s gonna be your father-in-law, y’know,” Peter says. You swear you can hear the teasing grin in his voice. “You can’t keep calling him ‘Mr. Lehnsherr’ now.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll start calling him-” And you find yourself unable to spit out the name ‘Erik.’ You pull the comforter up around your chin, muttering, “I’ll work my way up to it.”

Peter laughs. Then, apropos of nothing:

“Hey, when’s the last time you went on vacation?” he asks.

Confused, you turn your head to look at him. They’ve adjusted to the dim light enough for you to see Peter’s expression is earnest.

“Oh man, I don’t know,” you say, casting your mind back. “I know I took a couple long weekends, but I… I actually don’t think I’ve taken a real vacation since I started working here.”

“I thought so,” says Peter. “We should go somewhere together.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m not saying we should elope or anything,” he clarifies. “I’m getting kinda traditional in my old age.”

“You aren’t even thirty-five,” you counter drily.

“Be that as it may, I’m only saying that I kinda like the idea of having a real, actual wedding,” he says, smiling when you nod in agreement, “And also that we should go someplace tropical for a couple weeks. Like, not right away. After your knee heals up some more, and after Wanda and the twins get settled in. What do you think?”

The thought of relaxing on some warm sunny beach, or watching the stars over the ocean, just the two of you – it’s incredibly tempting.

“The professor did give us time off,” you say hesitantly, “But…”

“They can find somebody else to shovel snow and substitute teach for a little while. Didn’t you ever rebel as a teenager?” he asks, mock-accusingly. “Like, even once?”

“Uh…” You struggle to think back. Did you ever?

“Wow.” Peter grins, leaning in to kiss you cajolingly. “Come on – run away with me!”

“You’re a bad influence,” you tease.

Peter tilts his head. “Is that a yes…?”

“Hmm… a couple weeks in a tropical paradise with you,” you say. When it comes down to it, this is hardly a difficult decision. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good,” he says. “We’ll make plans over breakfast.”

In the dim light, you smile at him, murmuring an I-love-you. He kisses you again, and rests his head on the pillow beside yours. He breathes in deep and, with a contented sigh, closes his eyes. The little groundskeeper’s cottage has never felt more like home than it does in this moment.

Very little in life is certain; you know that. The shadow of Westview hasn’t left Peter entirely, and it may be a long time until he’s no longer troubled by it. But you’re certain that you love him, and that he loves you. Your hand folds around his.

“Hey, Peter?” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Just checking in, like I promised. How are you doing?”

Peter smiles as he presses his lips against your forehead. “Y’know what? I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight.”

[nightowlfandom]

Anime! Fictional! BTS x Real World! Reader- Welcome To My World~ Episode 1

HEY HEY! IM SO EXCITE! Btw who here plays BTS World? This is very loosely based off that.

I need to download it again tbh.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...

What does it mean to escape? To get away. If it means leaving behind all you know, all you’ve been raised to know, all you’ve been led to believe, with just yourself and the clothes on your back. Scary, but thrilling. Terrifying, but inviting. Unbelievable, but definitely possible....

...

On a early Tuesday morning where the sun was barely grazing the orange sky, you sat by your windowsill. You were dreamily staring out into the halo that was a mixture of red and orange. The halo of greyish clouds matched your mood to a complete tee. The aesthetic beauty of nature wasn’t enough to make you smile or even blink twice, however. It was always like this though. Yet something about this scene made you go sour.

Releasing a sigh, you stepped away from the window, shutting the curtains. Another day, the same thing. All you could do was attempt to power through.

As you lazily pulled your shirt over your head, you had managed to dodge that annoying dog. The little brat wasn’t even yours, but your oh-so loving step-sister’s. He always had a affinity for making your room a hot mess.  Only yours in particular. 

“Get out of here you little-.” you chased the dog out of your room, slamming your door as it scurried off. “What did you screw up this time?” you curiously scanned the room. Everytime that little fluffy beast rammed his little head into your personal space, something would end up broken, ripped, shattered, or completely destroyed beyond repair. 

You almost screamed when you saw a familiar book cover on the floor. You instantly dropped to your knees, praying to yourself that it wasn’t true. The cover had a pretty violent looking rip along with the first few pages. 

Your absolute reason for waking up in the morning was tarnished. A signed cover of BTS Universe Issue #1. Probably your one and only favorite series on planet Earth. You gingerly picked up the book, trying to inspect it with hopes that the damage was minimal. As little as this was, you almost felt like crying. However there was no time, you needed to tape up the pages and fast! Who cares if you missed breakfast.

...

“Morning Y/N!” Your step-dad greeted you in the kitchen. “You were upstairs an awful long time, I was about to send your mother to see if you were still up playing that game of yours!” he smiled warmly.

“Thanks Mr. Chai.” you replied politely. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“You know...Y/N...you could call me Dad.” he set a plate down on the table. “I know I’m not your father, but I want to be the best father-figure for you because I know...you haven’t really had that.”

You had to stop yourself from saying anything else. You haven’t had the best parental relationship, and your new step-dad really was trying. Maybe it was just his daughter that drove you nuts.

“Thank you.” you replied, smiling. “...Dad.” you winked, making finger guns. “Geez! You made a lot of food for just the four of us”

“ Well you ain’t see muffin, yet!” he winked. “You and Nari have a busy day today. She auditioning and you, my friend....well I don’t know exactly what you have planned for the day.”

“I’ll tell you if we can skip the food related puns.” you sat down at the table. It was a rule that everyone waited for everyone else. Even though you had taken the extra time to repair your copy of BTS Universe, you had seemed to be the first person down the stairs. In all honesty, you were just going to hang out at the comic store until Nari called to tell you she was done.

“Hey now, Donut kill my vibe!” he continued, laughing. “I have a million more of these, come on. Don’t go bacon my heart, Y/N.”

“Good job Y/N, you’ve gotten him started.” You mom came down the stairs in her little blazer and pencil skirt. “Whatever will we do now.”

“He did it himself, the guy’s an animal! You married a wild child, mom.” you joked. “He might just be a serial killer.”

“Don’t you mean...cereal killer?” he held up a box of Raisin Bran to make his point. You could only shake your head as your mother and step-father laughed together. Food related humor so early in the morning had to mean today wasn’t going to be a horrible as it started, at least for you.

“WHERE ARE MY THIGH HIGH BOOTS!” you heard a screech from upstairs. “THEY BETTER NOT BE IN YOUR ROOM, Y/N!”

“...WHY WOULD I WANT TO WEAR YOUR SHOES!” you yelled back after taking in a deep breath. “NARI, IF I WANTED TO BREAK MY ANKLES, I’D HAUL MYSELF DOWN THE STAIRS.”

“When will you two get along?” your mom shook her head. “It’s been three years.” 

“We don’t not get along.” You shook your head. “Not my fault she’s difficult.”

“I can think of a few times you’ve been difficult yourself, young lady.” you mother pointed a stern finger at you. “Like when you locked yourself in the room to read that silly cartoon of yours.”

“It’s not silly.” you defended yourself.

“Oh come on!” Nari’s voice voice could be heard alongside some loud footsteps. “I think it’s cute to be honest. Y/N here actually has a hobby besides stalking celebrities online.”

“Shut up, Nari.” you grumbled. “And keep your dog out of my room! He ruined my signed copy of BTS Universe!”

“Dorie got out again?” she seethed, looking annoyed. “I really have to put a bell on that dog.”

“Yeah.” you sighed, you bummed mood returning. Everyone knew just how much you loved that edition. You kept in in a super special display case, you cleaned the case every week, you kept your other issues on their own bookshelf along with your figurine and digital visual novel editions of the series. You were even on the buyer’s list for the special early anime release. You LOVED this series. Not even Nari dared to disrespect something as important as that, and she loved getting under your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one.” your mother set down a bowl of cereal in front of you along with a muffin. “Now eat, you have a big day today.”

“Yes mam.” you replied, helping yourself to some cereal.

“If you want, you can take a muffin or bagel with you.” your step dad said. 

“Dad! I can’t, I have to be super focused remember? Breakfast will just slow me down!” Nari scoffed.

“Not having breakfast will make it even worse, dummy. Dude, you’re gonna pass out on stage.” you threw a tiny cereal piece at her. “Eat something.”

“I’ll eat later, I just have my eye on the prize and nothing is going to stop me.” Nari stood up determined. 

“Will you at least eat some toast, crazy girl.” your mother said. “Y/N’s right, you need to at least have eaten something to calm your nerves. Y/N make sure Nari eats something before you two go your separate ways.”

“I’ll try, no promise.” you shrugged. “Nari, if you’re done, then get your stuff and let’s go.” You promptly finished your cereal and went to go back upstairs. “You got ten minutes.” 

“What’s her deal?” you could hear Nari ask, followed by an sudden whispering of your mom stating exactly what she thought was wrong with you. Your bet was on ‘everything’.

You walked back into your room, grabbing your purse from your desk. You eyed your taped up issue of BTS Universe #1. There was no way you were going to find another issue like that, and that damned dog just treated it like a loved toy. You grabbed your phone and shoved it into your purse. You went over to where the issue was and placed it on your desk. 

“NARI LET’S GO!” you shut the bedroom door behind you as you walked out the room. 

...

You sped to a stop outside the building. Nari was shaking in her shoes. She seemed hesitant to even open the door. 

“Call me when you’re finished so I can pick you up.” you said, getting ready to unlock the doors.

“You’re leaving me!?” Nari looked like she was about to explode.

“Hello?! It’s idol trainees only?” you raised an eyebrow. “I can’t go in there with you. Nari what’s the problem?”

“...Um...I’m nervous alright! I’m giving up almost everything and if I don’t get chosen...I’ll just prove my dad right. I need this.” she stared down at her hands. “I’m not used to being a reject. I don’t know how you-”

“You wanna leave here with two working legs, I suggest you don’t finished that sentence.” you cut her off. “I’m not a reject.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. I’m saying I don’t know how you deal with nerves like this.” she looked like she was gonna pass out. 

“...You just do.” you nudged her shoulder. “You just go for it and hope. Go for it.”

“...Okay, I’ll try.” she opened the door. “...Thank you.” she stood up. “I’ll call you when I’m all set.” she shut the door. 

“I’ll literally be at the store around the corner.” you replied before driving off. You watched in the rear view as she took her sweet time going into the building. 

...(Later on)

You trudged behind Nari as she ran through the door. She seemed happy, so that must have meant the audition went well.

“I’m gonna take a nap.” you called to your mom and step-dad. “See you guys at dinner!”

You didn’t wait for them to reply before you closed the door. As you walked over to your bed, you noticed a disc laying on your bed. Just a random DVD. The closer you got, the font on the front got clearer.

“BTS World?” It didn’t look familiar in the slightest. “It’s called BTS Universe, Nice try Nari.” you wrote it off as a stupid prank by your oh-so-loving Step-Sister. It was only then you realized Nari was with you all day. 

You took another look at it, gently taking it in your hands. It looked like it was glowing. 

Call it curiosity, but you needed to know.

Your laptop was sitting at the edge of the bed, so you put the disc in. 

“State your name.” a voice came out of nowhere. 

“What?” you looked around in shock. The voice sounded like it came from right behind you.

“Please state your name.” the female robotic voice repeated. 

“Y/N.” 

“Are you sure that you want Y/N as your name?”

“Um Yes?” you raised an eyebrow. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

“Would you like to start a new game? You don’t appear to have any saved filed under the name Y/N.”

Maybe you were sleepier than you thought, but you ran with it. “Yes.”

“Starting new game....now”

Your screen began glowing a bright blue, a vivid, saturated blue. It was like your screen had turned into a flashlight. 

“What the fu-” you suddenly stared at your hands, the very tips of your fingers turned pixelated. “MOM!!!” You tried to scream, only to have it come out in the form on an echo. You felt your feet leave the ground as tiny little pixels moved towards your computer. You could see the color draining from your walls, leaving everything white. It was like an earthquake ran through your room...only through your room.

Then...everything went dark.

...

(Why hello there...LET US PREPARE. I’m gonna go through with it this time, I swear on my bacon! The guys are coming next chappie!)

[kristallioness]

The guardian lemur

Summary: When Momo starts acting strange around Katara, she turns to Aang for advice.

Word count: 2,544

Author's note: I don't remember whether it was a blog post I saw here, or an online news article I stumbled across.. But, I think it's adorable when sometimes cats can sense if their owners are pregnant, so they become protective of them and start acting motherly towards them (like their natural instincts are kicking in). This cute concept inspired the following story. By the way, my mom has told me stories about how her grandmother (my great-grandmother) used to have a cat who'd catch mice and bring them back into the house and then release them, which infuriated her to no end. So, I guess this tidbit with Momo is inspired by that kitty, who didn't exactly understand how to be a cat. *lol* Anyways, I hope you like it since 'keeping warm' was one of my prompts, which I submitted this year (and it got chosen, yay!). Oh, and a happy beginning to all of you for Kataang Week 2020! *throws glitter and confetti*

----------x----------

The kitchen was filled with a mixed aroma of seaweed, herbs and noodles, all boiling in hot water. Katara added a pinch of salt into the broth and stirred the liquid with a big wooden spoon before taking a sip. From the corner of her eye, she could see the winged lemur, who'd quietly been sitting next to her feet for the past ten minutes.

"No, Momo. You can't have any until I'm done cooking."

Momo merely scratched the back of his ear with his hind leg, but otherwise didn't budge. Katara did feel bad for not giving him a taste before lunchtime. She wasn't even sure whether lemurs eat noodles, not to mention ones made out of seaweed..

And there it was again, the gentle rubbing against her shins. Momo began circling her legs in an attempt to persuade her to give him something to nibble on. Poor thing must be starving, she thought. If he was trying to make her feel guilty for not feeding him, it worked.

Katara released a heavy sigh and stepped away from the stove for a second, her small buddy padding right after her on the floor. She opened a cupboard door and grabbed the last moon peach from their dwindling fruit supply.

The constant following around nor the tiny gestures of affection weren't the things that had been driving the waterbender crazy. It was their pet's new habit of bringing live prey into the household. Last week, he'd caught dozens of bugs, five mice, three hamsters, two frogs and one unconscious bird.

Aang had nurtured the bird back to health and released it into the wild. The frogs weren't a problem either, so Katara had simply shooed them out of the house and they'd found a cosy habitat in the pond in front of their home. Luckily the bugs were also typical inhabitants on their little island, and the ones Momo brought inside eventually became dinner for the domesticated frogs.

However, it was the rodents who'd soon found their way into the pantry. Within a day, almost half of their pastry supplies were gone. Katara was furious. She had to ask her husband to buy more food from the market, and her brother to come up with ingenious traps to catch the annoying critters without killing them, like Aang had pleaded, before they could destroy their entire food supply, not to mention the vegetables in the greenhouse.

What really got on her nerves were the times the winged lemur would approach her with that proud smile on his face, something apparently dead caught between his small fangs or in between his paws, and release his catch right in front of her feet. Only for her to watch it scurry away before she could even blink, let alone catch it.

"This is the last one. Here you go," Katara said as she squatted down and extended her hand. She felt confused when the lemur pushed it back.

"Don't you want it? C'mon, it's your favourite treee-eat.."

She threw the peach into the hallway like a ball, in hopes that Momo would leave her alone to go fetch it. He did fly out of the kitchen for long enough to let her return to her cooking, but came back with the fruit fully intact between his fangs.

"Well, go on. Eat up!" Katara urged him with a wave of her hand, but Momo let out a disappointed moan and drooped his ears at that. He dropped the peach in his paws and with the utmost care, he pulled off a small piece and offered it to her instead.

"Thanks, Momo, but I'm not craving for a moon peach right now. You can have it."

The lemur hesitated at first, but under her watchful eye, he finally bit into the juicy fruit, allowing her to finish preparing lunch for herself and her husband in peace.

Speaking of peace, Katara couldn't recall the last time she and Aang had been given a moment of privacy in bed for the past couple of weeks. Often times when waking up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, Katara would discover that she'd inched further away from her partner, due to a scrawny furball who always managed to squeeze himself in between their tummies, no matter the positions they were in. Or if their intimacy wasn't being disturbed, she'd wake up due to the curled up, personalized heater sleeping on her belly whenever she was lying on her back.

Since when had she become a magnet for winged lemurs? Did she smell of something that attracted them to her? Had Momo grown fond of her and simply wished to spend more time by her side instead of hanging out with Aang all the time? Katara had no idea, but all of this was becoming a bit much.

As she poured the steaming seaweed noodles into two bowls, Momo leaped up and landed on her shoulders. He curled his tail around her neck for support, then held a leftover piece of the moon peach in front of her face.

"Oh, alright.." she chuckled, snagging the small piece from his paw and putting it in her mouth.

"Thanks, Momo!"

She scratched him from below the chin with her finger, earning a series of content purrs from the lemur. Once the bowls were full, she was ready to join her husband in the living room.

Aang was leaning on the windowsill, admiring the view of Republic City straight across the bay, when he heard footsteps coming closer.

"Lunch is served!" Katara announced as she joined him. The airbender grinned at the sight of two steaming bowls filled with delicious food, watching how she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. The smell that accompanied her was mouth-watering.

"Finally! I could eat a whole barrel of noodles by now."

His wife giggled at that comment.

"Well, I hope we didn't keep you waiting for too long."

He walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a loving smile.

"Sweetie, I waited for you for a hundred years. I don't think you could ever top that record again."

Katara laughed wholeheartedly this time, letting him give her a quick kiss on the lips afterwards.

Aang tenderly ran a hand over her slight belly bump before beckoning her to have a seat on the couch with him so they could have lunch together. They both grabbed a bowl, along with a pair of chopsticks, and clinked them together like those snobbish citizens in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se would do.

"Dig in!"

While the couple indulged themselves, Momo hopped off Katara's shoulders and disappeared to a different room. She noticed the lemur fly off into the corridor, but didn't pay too much attention to it. At this point, she was grateful for any given moment she could get, just to be alone with her beloved.

"What do you think? Is it too spicy?"

Hailing from the Water Tribe, Katara had grown up with a blander range of foods available in the frozen landscape, with the exception of meat that was either cooked or fried, and seasoned prior to the devouring.

Hence she tried to spice up their plain meals, such as these noodles, by experimenting with adding various spices or herbs. Aang shook his head.

"Nah, I think it's really good. You might wanna go easy on the garlic next time. Otherwise, I'm afraid you won't wanna kiss me anymore if my breath stinks."

She laughed when he planted a greasy kiss on her cheek, after which she continued to slurp her own seaweed noodles.

Her attention turned to her feet when she spotted Momo, who'd returned from another one of his adventures. For a second, her heart dropped at the sight of a mouse caught between his teeth. Fortunately, it was just a toy he'd brought along.

"Momo, why are you bringing your stuff here? Do you wanna play?"

The winged lemur jumped up on the couch and supported his front paws on the waterbender's thigh, dropping the toy right into her lap. Katara stared at the fake mouse for a mere second before Momo flew away again.

"Wait! Where are you going? I was gonna play.. with you.."

She sighed, picking the toy up from its string of a tail. Aang could sense her frustration.

"What's wrong?"

Katara put her half-empty bowl on the table and continued to stare at the toy mouse hanging from her fingertips. She twirled the tail around, making the rest of its body spin.

"I don't know. Momo's been acting really strange lately."

"Strange how exactly?"

"He's always following me around and rubbing himself against me. Not to mention he's practically invaded our personal space in bed. I don't need to remind you that he's bringing all kinds of small creatures inside the temple every day.."

Aang's focus shifted from her complaining to the culprit himself. Momo had returned to the living room and he gleefully hopped beside the waterbender, this time dropping his favourite ball in her lap.

"..He brings me food even when I'm not hungry. And now, when I find a place to sit still for a little while longer, he keeps piling some of his toys around me."

Momo tilted his head and stared back at the airbender, almost as if he was trying to communicate with him. Tell him the motives behind his actions and all the mischief he'd caused within the last month. Katara picked up the ball he'd dropped.

"See?.. Aang, are you even listening to me!?"

"Sh-shh!" he hushed her, raising a finger to her lips so she'd quit yammering.

"What?"

He pointed down to her stomach. Both their eyes were fixed on the winged lemur, who lay down in the waterbender's lap and nestled the side of his face against her round belly, one ear covering it like a blanket. Momo looked up at the married couple, then shut his lime green eyes and began purring ever so silently. Aang started laughing, but Katara became even more annoyed.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, Katara.. He can tell when you're in the family way. He's trying to take care of you and the baby in the only way he knows how - by acting as a daddy lemur."

Her face twisted through several expressions of anger, confusion and eventually, realization.

"So, that's what he's been doing this whole time? Tending to me as if I'm an expecting mommy lemur? Which I technically am, except for the lemur part.."

Aang reached his hand out to pet his caring companion. The winged lemur arched his back a bit and nuzzled his face against the fuzzy material of Katara's coat. His purrs become louder with each stroke.

"Momo can sense that there's life growing inside of you, so he's been acting like a proper papa lemur and looking after the unborn child and its mother. That includes bringing you food and stuff to play with to keep you well-fed and entertained."

Katara felt as if he'd opened her eyes to a whole different reality. She never thought that Momo's odd behaviour could be related to the fact that she's pregnant now. The timing fit, and Aang's reasoning explained the weird new habits.

"But, what about the snuggling? Why's he so keen on sleeping on my stomach?"

"He's trying to keep you and the baby warm. Also, since there are a lot of hormonal changes going on with you right now, your body's radiating more warmth in this area," Aang explained by running his hand over her bump, careful not to move the lemur's ear off of it.

"Which means your stomach is the perfect hotspot, literally. You're keeping him warm, too."

"Where did you learn all of that?" Katara wondered, her tone playful and curious at the same time. The cheeks on her husband's face turned crimson and he looked away for a moment, rubbing the back of his bald head awkwardly.

"I might've found some books about pregnancy on the top shelf of the bookcase in your office the last time I was waiting for you to finish work..."

She giggled and rewarded him with a soft peck on the cheek for being so caring and putting in more effort to understand this new "condition" of hers better.

"Thanks, sweetie. I appreciate you looking out for me."

Aang accepted her gratitude with a wide grin, and by snaking an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. After that, she joined him in stroking the winged lemur, who seemed to be happily napping in her lap.

"Oh, Momo.. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He looked up at Katara and let out a short disgruntled screech that could've been translated into an 'I told you so'. She laughed at that.

"Oh, okay.. I guess you did tell me. I was just too oblivious to pick up on the signs."

Momo rested his head in her lap again and raised one of his ears above her belly bump.

"Why do you think he does that thing with his ear?" the waterbender wondered out loud, tenderly running her hand over the soft fur on the lemur's head.

"Maybe he's listening to what the little tyke is doing in there. Animals can hear sounds with a much higher frequency. Take my bison whistle, for example. We can't hear anything, but Appa always comes to me when I blow it."

"I doubt that Momo can hear anything else besides my stomach growling. I mean, the baby hasn't even developed a heart yet. Believe me, I've checked.. If anything, he might be able to sense its movements in my womb."

Katara was right. She was barely into the last weeks of her first trimester. As hard as she'd tried, she couldn't detect the baby's heartbeat through her healing abilities yet. And it was too early for it to start kicking her, too.

The only changes she could sense in her body were the slight weight gain, which led to her developing a subtle belly bump. Her breasts had become a bit tender, which meant that making love with Aang at night would be less fun for a while. Not that he wasn't being more gentle with her because of this.. And finally, some unusual cravings, which was probably why she preferred to cook spicier foods recently.

Either way, these slight changes were enough for Momo's paternal instincts to kick in. He rolled over onto his back and let the couple scratch his soft belly instead. The corners of his mouth curled into a content smile as he purred against Katara's tummy.

"Aww! I guess this is kind of endearing. Plus, this way the baby can get acquainted with one of its future furry friends, too. That's right! Yes, you can!" she cooed to the winged lemur, who rubbed himself against her thighs as he twitched with delight at her scratches.

"But no more mice in the house, okay? I'm capable of finding my own food," Katara said with a wave of her finger, to which Momo replied with another chirp. Translation - 'yes, madam'.

[urlocalkpoptrash]

Misguided Ghosts| Im Jaebeom

Jaebeom x Reader | Jackson x Reader.

Genre: Angst/Fluff.

Concept: After a terrible accident, Jae is left in a coma. Five months of hoping for the best, but expecting the worst, you get a mysterious guest.

Warning: Talk of grief, death, and car accidents.

A/N: WOW I AM SAD. I wrote this for @listlessmaenads birthday gift, and I’m sorry it’s late. This story kind of (really) fucked a bitch up. Jaebeom out here making me feel things, rude ass.

- - - - -

“How was work today, Y/N?” Jaebeoms nurse set down a tray of food for you.

In most cases it was the patients that were getting the food, but seeing as the patient had been in a coma for five months, you were the one who received the food. You had become accustomed to the taste of the Luke warm chicken nuggets and corn. It was almost comforting when you had a hard day at work.

“It’s been the same,” and by same, you meant the same sympathetic glances, the gentle pats on the shoulder. People acted like he had already died, that you should be mourning the loss of your fiancé. He was still alive, even if it was with the help of some machines.

“Just keep your head up,” she offered an encouraging flash of her teeth, “when people don’t understand what’s happening, they resort to being overly sympathetic. They think those little gestures will help.”

“I know their intentions are nothing but pure. It doesn’t make it any better, though.” The tip of your spoon scarped against the bottom of your jello container, the red dyed juice splashed over the rim when you dropped the empty plastic onto your table.

The conversation seemed to evaporate into the air as she moved around Jae’s bed. It was quite the elegant dance of checking his vitals, reading over the chart to make sure the day nurse hadn’t left any notes, and adjusting his bedding to make sure his body temperature didn’t drop for any reason.

“He’s all comfortable, and set up for the night. I’ll be back to check in a few hours. If you need anything —,” she stopped mid-sentence when you gave her a knowing smile. It was the same, well rehearsed, script that all nurses told you. Except she actually meant it, “Tell Jacks I said hi,” she teased, all to knowledgeable of the goings on in your life.

You watched as she shut the door behind her, leaving you in the room with Jae. You sat for moment, listening to the steady beat of his heart monitor, and the machine that helped him to breathe. You looked over his face, all the outward wounds had healed, if it wasn’t for his life support, he would have looked like he was just sleeping. Some days, you imagined that he was, you pretended that in a few hours he would wake up, like he had been napping. You knew better though, and make believing only made things worse when he didn’t actually wake up.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to dwell too much on it, or else you’d send yourself into a spiral, so instead you took the doctors suggestion. You reached into your bag, digging around to find the poetry book that sat at the bottom of your purse. “Where were we,” you said softly, flipping the pages till you found your bookmark - a picture of Jae smiling at you from across the table at your favorite restaurant.

You held the book in one hand, your thumb expanding over the middle of the spine, stopping the the pages from folding over on to one another. Your other hand was occupied by your chin resting against your palm, being propped up by the chair you were sitting in, “Okay,” you breathed, peeking over the edge of your book, secretly wishing that one time you did that, his eyes would be open.

“For Katrina’s Sun Dial, by Henry Van Dyke -

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is Eternity.” The words held no meaning pressed into the paper of your book, but as they hung in the air, you felt the weight of them all to heavy on your chest.

You shook you head, swallowing the lump that had started to build in your throat. It was a sob that you refused to let surface, it was the cry you reserved for the very worst possible outcome, a cry you never hoped to feel. You closed the book, you couldn’t read anymore, afraid that another poem would set you over the edge.

After shoving the book back into your blackhole of a bag, you pulled your legs on to the chair, curling into yourself, wishing you could fill the hole in your chest, the way you crammed your personal belongings into your purse. Your eyelids suddenly felt like they were being dragged down by anchors, and you gladly fell into the welcoming arms of sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep, but you knew it had been awhile, because you could no longer see the sun sinking below the mountains, but you could see the silver sliver of moonlight reflecting off of Jae’s heart monitor. Your eyes surveyed the room, catch a glimpse of Jackson sitting in the corner, the light from his phone illuminating the tip of his nose, and whites of his eyes.

“How long have you been here?” The hoarse sound of your voice shocked you, but even more so it scared the living daylights out of Jackson. His hands fumbling with his phone, almost dropping it on the floor, but he was quick to snap his thighs shut, catching his phone in the crack of his legs.

“Couldn’t you have made a stretching noise like a normal person, letting me know you had woken up,” the breathiness in his voice made you release a sleepy laugh.

“Sorry, next time I’ll make sure to make some noise when I wake up,” he looked over at you with a thankful smile, “Wuss,” you tried to whisper under your breath.

“Hey! I heard that,” he reached back, grabbing the pillow he was using behind his back, chucking it across the room to hit you square in the chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” you tried to lie, but Jackson heard you, and knew you far too well to be able to lie to him.

He snorted, setting his phone on the windowsill. You watched as he pushed himself off the chair, making his way over to you. You knew what he wanted, and to be honest, you needed it.

“Come on, up,” he hooked his hand around your elbow, pulling you up - your bones popping in protest of the new movement.

Once you were standing, not very sturdy, but standing nonetheless, he wrapped you in his arms. His chin rested on the top of your head, and your nose pressing into his chest, taking a deep breath. He did this every time he saw you, at first it drove you crazy, but now it was something you looked forward to.

“Anything new?” He mumbled, moving his chin so he could bury his face in your hair, taking a deep breath. To him, you were the literal meaning of ‘a breath of fresh air.’

“No, nothing…” the same answer for the last five months, and you feared it would always be the only answer.

Since you were so close to his chest, you could hear the faint beating for his heart, and when you responded, his heart rate slowed. His grip on you only tightening, as if he was trying to protect you from the pain.

“You should go home for a little bit. I’ve only been here for about an hour. I’ll be here the rest of the night. If anything happens, you know I’ll call you,” pressing a kiss on to the crown of your head.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to just leave you here alone,” you brought your face up, looking at him.

“I’m not alone. I have lots to tell JB about,” and he was being honest. You had walked into the room many times, to find Jackson at Jae’s bed, one hand on Jae’s arm, talking about his day. You’d even caught him talking about a girl - Jackson always used to tell jae about his girl problems. It turns out he still did.

“I’ll have my phone on loud, don’t hesitate to call me at any time,” you reluctantly pulled away, and he reluctantly lets you go.

You gathered your belongings, Jackson standing at the door with your jacket, “Don’t forget this… again,” he teased, helping you slip it on arm by arm.

“Thank you jacks, for everything.” You pressed a quick kiss on his cheek, walking out of the room.

Jae’s nurse waved at you from the nurses station, giving you a sweet smile. As you entered the elevator, you waved back. You looked up to the red numbers above your head, watching them get lower until you reached the ground floor. You had questioned whether or not you were ready to drive again, but Uber’s would take too long to get to you and then to the hospital if anything were to happen, so you were forced to drive again.

You were lucky, the roads were basically a ghost town. The normal thirty minute drive it took you to get home, was only a cool twenty tonight. When you opened the door, Nora was already at your feet, weaving in and out of your legs, meowing loudly for some attention. You bent down, “Well hello,” you cooed, and she purred in response, pushing her nose against your face.

You always made sure she had plenty of food and water every morning before you left, and your sweet fifteen year old neighbor would come over to give her some much needed attention. You rounded the living room, walking over to the answering machine. You had two new messages, they were both from medical bill collectors, you didn’t pay much attention to them, letting them play out till they were done.

“What should I eat Nora?” You glanced at her, and she nudged your cheek with one of her paws, “Hmm, I don’t know if I want that,” you answered her as if she had responded to you.

Your feet carried you to the kitchen, the second message on the machine was playing in the background as you pulled open the fridge. You’re not sure what you expected, you hadn’t done any grocery shopping in weeks - hell, months. You sighed looking at the carry out containers, and half drank bottled water.

“Looks like I’ll be having sleep for dinner again,” you set Nora down, letting the fridge door close on its own. You pressed the delete button as you walked by the answering machine again, not even bothering to look and make sure you didn’t have any other messages.

The house felt cold without Jae, and no matter how high you turned the heat up or how many blankets you flung around yourself, none of them could ever mimick the warmth that Jaebeom radiated. Maybe it was because it wasn’t his skin that was warm; it was his heart, it was his smile, or the way he laughed at the variety show he had watched a million times, it was in the way he whispered sweetly to Nora. His warmth came from his love.

You leaned against the wall, only inches away from your bedroom, but you weren’t ready to go In there yet. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in there since he had been in the hospital, but it was just too much of him, without him actually being there. You sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. You were fine all day, you were fine at the hospital, but when you were really and truly alone, you were anything but okay.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, brokenly. You couldn’t recognize your own voice, because you were just a fragment of yourself without him. “It should have been me,” the air was starting to feel thicker, harder to fill your lungs with. Your eyes were burning, the tears that spilled over onto your cheek gave you no warning, neither did the choked gasp for air that passed through your lips.

You hid your face in the space of your knees, crying freely, letting the hole in your heart spread throughout your body, swallowing you into an ocean of despair. Your cries coming in waves, pulling you deeper into the current, making it near impossible to find the surface, and you were fine to just sink and never come up for air again. You didn’t want to be in a world where he didn’t exist.

After what seemed like an eternity, your tears started to dry up for the night, you began to believe there wasn’t enough water in your body to support the amount of crying you had done in the last five months. You knew if jae would have seen you this torn up over him, he’d start to hate himself, and for once you thanked god that he wasn’t around to see you like this.

You were barely able to push yourself back up from the floor, little black spots started to plague your vision, which meant you really needed some sleep. Your limbs dragged from the spot you were in, all the way to your bedroom. You didn’t bother to change, or shower. You were exhausted, and the sweet call of sleep was singing your name. You let yourself collapse on the bed, your feet hanging off the edge, but the moment your face met the pillow, you were out.

Another dreamless night - you had stopped dreaming of the accident a couple weeks ago, which gave the opportunity to sleep, and actually find some peace in the darkness behind your eyelids.

You were awake, but you weren’t all that excited to open your eyes and face another day. So you just stayed there, listening to the constant hum of the ceiling fan above, or the water moving through the pipes of your house.

“I know you’re awake, baby.” You froze, every muscle in your body tensing, and your blood running cold. There was someone else in your bed with you, but you swore you would have felt the bed dip. You always did, any time Jae moved, you felt it. There was no way in hell that you would have missed your bed moving.

You thought that maybe if you sat still, and kept pretending to sleep, that it would go away. Possibly you were just having sleep paralysis, it had been years since you had an episode, but it could have been the stress of everything building up.

There was silence again, not even the sound of someone breathing. You tried your hardest to crack you eyelid open in a way that didn’t give away that you were looking around. It was difficult to see, but what you could make out was just your empty room. You took a deep breath, allowing your eyes to finally break open.

Nothing. No one. All alone. You rolled over to your back, you were set on staring at the ceiling for another hour before you were to get up, but out of the corner of your eye you saw a figure laying beside you. You practically flung yourself to the floor with a loud scream. You were ready to run out of your house as fast as possible, escaping whoever this intruder was.

“Oh my god!” The voice called out, before you could see their feet from under the bed. You were frantic, looking for something to protect yourself with.

The foot steps got louder and closer, you were out of idea’s, and without a weapon, so you did what any normal person would do. You curled up in a ball, shielding your face with your hand.

“Take anything you want, just please, don’t hurt me,” your body was trembling with fear, fully expecting your last minutes to be you in the fetal position.

“Hurt you? Y/N…” the voice was smooth, calming. If this was a murderer, they were by far the most comforting murderer out there, “Wait… you can see me? Can you hear me? Y/N, baby, look at me.”

Baby.

You recognized the inflection of the voice, and the way the first B was harsher than the second. You gradually spread your index and middle finger apart. There he was, the tall figure who was standing beside you, kneeled down.

“C-can you see me?” Jaebeoms words stuttered over his tongue.

“Jae?” Your body started to relax. Your knees pulling away from your chest, and your legs extending towards the wall opposite of your head.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, falling on his butt across from you, “I don’t understand,” he was talking to himself.

You still couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You had to be dreaming, there was no way in hell that he was in here with you, that he was talking to you. You rubbed your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. You fully expected him to be gone, but he was still there, lost in his own thoughts.

“If you’re here… does that mean you’re dead?” The realization started to flood your system with panic. Your cheeks began to heat up, and your eyes burning with the familiar sting of tears.

Your words brought him back to the moment, and he quickly shook his head, “no, baby. I’m not dead. Im just, I don’t know, I’m stuck between here and there.”

“There?” The tears you tried to stop had already started, and now there was no way for you to stop them, they had a mind of their own.

He reached out to touch you, to cup your cheeks and take away the tears, but all you felt was a very minuscule tingle on your cheek, that was gone as fast as it was there. A strangled gasp leaving his mouth agape.

“You can hear me, see me, but we can’t touch,” he looked down at his hand as if it had betrayed him.

You still sat on the floor, wordlessly staring at this version of Jae. You must be going crazy, there was no other explanation. Although you could see the way his lashes brushed over his cheek, or the way his cheeks made his eyes disappear when his nose scrunched. He must have felt you staring at him, because he looked up from his hands.

“Hi…” his voice almost inaudible, and in that moment your felt warm. The constant chill of being alone had diminished, and you figured out that he was really there, he brought the sun back into your dark world.

“Hey,” he watched as you scooted closer to him, the small affectionate action was enough to make him smile.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” His shoulders bounced slightly when he laughed. The sound almost brought you back to tears.

“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting you to be there.”

“In all honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to see me. I’ve been here since the third week of being in a coma.”

“So… you’ve just been watching me?” And all at once, you remembered all the times you had broken down, how many times you cursed gods name - because you had to blame someone for this, Jae didn’t deserve this.

As if he was reading your mind, he turned his head to watch you go through all the sleepless nights, the tears, the fits of anger, “I-I felt so useless. I had to sit here, watching you suffer. The nights you would call out my name, as if you were asking me to come home,” his voice broke off, the quietest of crippled gasps left his chest.

You hadn’t even recognized that tears had started to wash over your cheeks, till one lonely drop stopped at your top lip. While you were stuck in that hospital room, watching him, he was stuck in limbo watching you hurt.

“It’s not your fault, you know that. None of this is your fault.” You gestured between the two of you.

“It’s no ones fault,” a lie. It was your fault, and you knew that.

You sat silently, staring at him. What a beautiful man he was. It was never lost on you, just how lucky you were to have him, but since the accident, you’d really realized how much you needed him in your life. You could remember the life you had before him, and it was a life that you never wanted to have to live again.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he piped up, reeling you back into reality, and out of your own thoughts.

“Go somewhere?” The back of your hand dragged across your cheek, wiping away the stray tears.

“Yeah. There’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to take you, but never have. When’s a better time than now?”

“Oh, I don’t know, when you’re not just an apparition of yourself. I think that would probably be peak time to go.”

He snorted loudly, shaking his head. “Only you would complain about the way I spent time with you,” he teased.

“Uh, no. I think most people would find it ridiculous to go somewhere with their fiancés restless soul,” a laugh bubbled from your chest.

“Soul schmoul,” he flicked his hand, dismissing your very logical response.

That’s how you ended up in the car with Jae in your passenger seat, singing along to the radio, while his body was motionless in a hospital bed. Every so often you would have to remind yourself that it wasn’t really him, it wasn’t someone you could hug or kiss.

“Are you paying attention? I don’t want to get lost,” you pout, turning down the radio.

“I know exactly where we are, just keep driving,” and so you did, you just kept driving - silently watching him from the corner of your eye.

You could see his fingers twitch on his thigh, pulling into a fist and extending to smooth out his pants. He was itching for something, like an addict on the search for his next high. It wasn’t until he placed his arm in between the two seats, that you realized what he wanted to do. He wanted to reach out and touch your leg, to feel your skin under his finger tips. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t because he wasn’t really there. It was just another harsh reminder of the reality of the situation.

You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt you. No, it didn’t hurt you, it killed you. Having the man you loved with all your heart, sitting in the passenger seat, and not being able to touch him.

“Your next right,” He jeered his head towards the window, indicating where he wanted you to go.

The trees were heavy, the tops of the branches on each side of the path, reached out touching one another. A sick joke from a god that couldn’t be real. You could catch glimpses of the sky between the crowded greenery. It was less than mile before you hit an opening in the woods.

“Stop. Right here,” he leaned forward, placing his hands on the dashboard.

The car came to a slow stop, the dirt beneath your tires crunched, and your breaks gave out the softest of cries.

“What is this place?” You asked, as you stepped out of the car, using your hip to shut the door.

“It was where I was going to suggest we got married,” you didn’t know, or hear how he got out of the car, you just felt him behind you, “Walk closer to the edge,” he had leaned forward, whispering in your ear.

It was always so stranger to feel chills run down your spine, while a warm breeze wafted over your body, hiding your face behind the tufts of hair that moved in the wind. Your feet carried you closer to the edge of the cliff. The walk way just cut off, and below you was a quiet and still creek, the sun cascading over the land like a blanket.

“Y/N,” he came up beside you, “I brought you up here, because it’s one of my favorite places in this world, a close second to your arms. You’re the only other person I’ve brought here.” His feet shuffled as he sat down, legs dangling over the edge from the knee down.

“You’re my person. I showed you the version of me that wasn’t always happy, I showed you the version of me that no one else gets to see. I showed you the bones in my closet, and instead of running, you grabbed the shovel. You’ve loved me through the days I couldn’t get out of bed, you loved me through the nights that I felt like I had hands around my neck - you filled my lungs with air, you helped me breathe. I will never be able to explain exactly what you’ve done for me, and I’m afraid I’ve run out of time. This was the only time I could say this.”

Wordlessly, you sat beside him. You didn’t know what else you could do, you didn’t know how you could make this better for him. You had so many words, and thoughts in your head, swimming around around your mouth. Your tongue pressing against the back of your teeth, as if they were some form of confinement.

“But I am not your person. I will be gone far sooner than you. You’ll be left without me… I can’t even imagine a world without you, so the thought of leaving you here without me, is torture. But, you will need to move on one day. You’ll fall in love again. Fuck, you might already be falling in love with someone else, and I’m okay with that. I want you to be happy, because you deserve it.” You could hear his voice crumbling. He sounded exactly the way you felt; defeated, broken, and accepting.

“I’m not in love with anyone but you, Jaebeom. There is no one else. There will never be anyone else.” How could he even think this? Even worse, how could he believe it so much so that he was saying it out loud.

“You don’t see it now. I understand why, but you know there is someone else. He’s always loved you, maybe just as much as me. He’s watched you fall apart, all that was left of you was jagged pieces, and he still held you. He took your broken pieces, and held them in his hand - even though they pushed into his skin. He put you together with bandages on his hands.”

Jackson. He was talking about Jackson. Of course, it’s was Jacks. How could you be so oblivious to it? Were you that obtuse to the world around you.

“He talks about you a lot. I can hear him. He tells me all the things about you that he thinks I miss, or things he think I should know. He sees you the same way I do, and that’s how I know he’ll always take care of you. He’ll protect you and keep you safe, even if you never accept him the way you accepted me.”

It was crazy to think, because you know that Jacks never expected anything from you. The thought of asking you to more than friends, never even crossed his mind, because you weren’t his. He’d rather be insufferably in love with you, and deal with it, than not have you in his life.

Hour and hours passed by, you two sat on the ledge, watching the sunset together. Having him sitting there was like having all your memories playing on a constant loop. His smiles reminded you of all the mornings you woke before him to wake him with kisses all over his face. The way the lowering sun caught the tip of his nose reminded you of all the times you would put whipped cream, or frosting on his nose. He could never stay out the kitchen when you baked. His laughter reminded you of the days in the park, dancing to the music of random street musicians. Occasionally, he’d walk over to them and sit beside them, singing along. He looked so in his element. His raw vocals and an acoustic guitar.

“It’s time to go,” he looked up at you, his eyes focusing on your face for some time. He must have been living in the memories of your smile.

“Are you sure?” You knew he wasn’t talking about leaving this place, he meant it was time for him to leave. He was ready to be set free.

“I am.. but can we stop one more place?”

“Of course, Jaebeommie.”

The familiar nickname made his heart squeeze. You called him that often, and now he was regretting all the times he never appreciated it. When he would ignore you when he was in the studio. All the stupid hours of working in songs, when you were in the living room reading, or playing with Nora. All the time he wasted.

The car ride towards the spot of the accident was silent. You tried to stomp your foot, throw a fit. You didn’t want to go there. You only had fleeting minutes with him, and he wanted to take you to the place that was ultimately his demise.

The street lights would move from his knees, over his face as you drove. You could see his chest rise and fall, like there was a heart inside of him. It made him seem so much more realistic. Having you forgetting that he wasn’t actually in the seat next to you.

The closer you got to your destination, the harder you gripped your steering wheel. You were glad that it wasn’t your heart hooked up to a monitor because it felt like it was about to leap out of your chest, and land in his lap.

Your headlight stopped at the tunnel. There was still a large scrap along the concrete from where your car had flipped and slid across the road.

“Why… why couldn’t you have just put on your seatbelt, Jae?” You whispered, head hanging between the arms.

“I asked myself that every time I’ve seen your cry,” he gulped, resting his head against his seat.

You tried to stop them, but your tears had more control over you, than you did of them, “But that wouldn’t have mattered if I would have been paying attention. You’d still be here, and I mean actually here.”

If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could still see the glass of your front windshield shatter, and you hear the sound of your car sliding. God, it was such a terrible sound. Just remembering it made you want you throw up.

“Baby. I need you to open your eyes and look at me,” he shifted in his seat to face you.

Hesitantly you did as he requested. You could taste the tears dripping off your lip and into your mouth. This was really it, and this was the place that took everything from you. There was nothing he could do or say to make you feel any better about it.

“This isn’t your fault,” he began, and you immediately grabbed your car door, pulling it open. You weren’t going to stick around to hear him try and justify what happened.

“You can’t run from me,” he was standing in front of you, before you could even blink your eyes.

“Not fair, you cant use your ghost powers to cut me off,” You sulked.

“I think I just did,” he did what he had set out to do, he stopped you in your tracks, “Look down.”

Without question you did so, and by your foot was a dirty, but still very shiny locket. You had lost your necklace that night, whether it was when the paramedics had to cut your clothes off, or in the middle of the crash. You knelt down, hooking your finger in the chain, letting it hang off down. He had gotten that for you on your second anniversary.

“This isn’t your fault. This was no ones fault. It was an accident, and that’s all. no one could have foreseen the events of that night. You need to stop blaming yourself, because it’ll take you to your grave if you don’t.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Y/N,” he hissed between clenched teeth, “Don’t fucking say that.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, I’m just… I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” The admittance that he was leaving soon, was almost too much to bare.

“You’ll never be without me, baby.” His hand moved across the necklace, letting it swing back and forth, “I’m always going to be right next to your heart.”

“Don’t… Don’t go, please don’t go.” You were thankful that you were already kneeling down, or falling to your knees like you just did would have hurt a lot more.

“I have to. I don’t need to be here anymore. Letting you go was my unfinished business.”

He was now on his knees, face only mere inches away from yours.

“But I’ll never be able to let you go… What about me? Don’t I get a say in this?”

“I love you so much, Y/N. You will always be the love of my life,” you could already feel the warmth that he carried with him, started to slip away.

No, no, no. Here it was, the end of it all. The end of all the ‘I love you’s.’ There would be no more early morning drives to get coffee, there would be no more moon lit dances on your roof, there would be no more him, there would be no more you.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. You only knew he did that, because you felt the softest of tingles. He lingered there for a moment, reliving his life in seconds that felt like hours.

Finally he was gone. You couldn’t feel him anymore. All that was left was the necklace in your hand, and the air taken out of your lungs. Your body trembled, as if it was riding itself of the dead weight. A flame flashed over your skin, as if it burned off any remaining pieces of him, turning all his touches to dust.

Your cell phone continued to buzz in your cup holder, Jackson’s name popping up over and over. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. A scream of pure pain filled the night time air. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Begs and pleads to the man you cursed to angrily. Buzz. Bu— Silence.

Two Years Later

You rolled away from Jackson’s grasp to curl into your pillow, eyes heavy with sleep. You loved cuddling with Jacks, but man, that boy could really start to feel like a furnace. Every night you did this, roll away, and yet still manage to wake up with your body tangled with his. He was a magnet.

Jackson must have believed you were asleep, because most nights when you left his side, you were asleep. Not this time though, you were on the brink of sleep and being wide awake.

“Hyung?” Jackson voice was hushed. You could hear the pillow crinkle under his head as he turned to glance over his shoulder, making sure you were still ‘asleep.’

“It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you… and I’m sorry for that. Life has just been so hectic. I just wanted to say I miss you, and I know that y/n misses you too. She still says your name in her sleep, not as much anymore, but on bad days, she’ll call out for you. There’s not much I can do except to hold her.”

You had to use every fiber in your being not to turn around and wrap yourself around Jackson. You wanted to tell him that just because you still called out for Jae some times, didn’t mean that you didn’t love him. It broke your heart thinking that you still said Jae’s names in front of him.

“I don’t mind it though. I know she still loves you, and I would never ever think of taking that away from her. You were everything to her, you still are. I know she loves me too, she shows it all the time, but I’m afraid that I’m not enough for her sometimes. You know? She’s just so incredible. She is kind to everyone on the street, the smiles at little kids, and my parents love her. She’s extraordinary, and I feel way out of her league… but she still loves me. How lucky are we to be loved by someone like that?”

Lucky? You were the lucky one. Most people don’t even have one great love in their life, but you’ve had two - Jaebeom and now Jackson. You’ve been loved unconditionally, and without fear by two men, who could have the world, but decided to make you their world.

“I know you still love her too, and I hope that I can let that live through me, so she never forgets that we love her. I won’t let you down, Jae. I promise.”

A promise he did keep

[bountybossier]

Burnt Brownies | Bea & Nic

Nothing really bonds two people quite like baking brownies.

With: @beatrice-blaze

Nicodemus wasn’t social media savvy and preferred the old-fashioned tree-killing method of publicizing his services. All throughout the main streets of White Crest, he had stapled sheets of paper with tear-away phone numbers. Every call went to one of his three burner phones. Given the state of the town with its current problems, he hadn’t expected a call for any house maintenance. At all. Not within the first week or so of being there at least. When the phone erupted in the silence of his hotel room, he stared at it. At the fourth ring, he finally answered. After the encounters with lobsters he had subjected himself to, a little wrench work didn’t sound terrible and he told the client he would be there as soon as he could manage it. Within the hour, he stood outside the door of a Beatrice Vural, toolkit paired with a neutral expression. He knocked twice and waited.

There were a lot of things Bea was good at. Fixing up her house was not one of them. See she understood that things broke, but when she had been living at home all she had to do was tell her dad and then it was fixed the next day. Then when she moved into her house she was simply lost when it came to those things. Usually, she called her dad still when things weren’t working, but he was too busy to come over and she was going crazy from the constant sound of the leaky sink. She was still tidying the house when she heard the knocks and she hoped that nothing too strange was left out. If anything was she hoped the handyman would just write it off as White Crest weirdness. She bounded to the door and swung it open with a smile. “Hi! Are you here for the sink?”

His face slid easily into a ‘customer service’ smile. Polite enough but detached from anything beyond business. Nic offered a nod as he hefted the toolkit over his shoulder effortlessly. He preferred bullets and crucifixes, but he could manage with wrenches and screws for the time being. “Yes ma’am, I’m Nic,” he said. He didn’t have to fake the tired in his voice. At least the work would be mind-numbing enough for him to fade into it. Briefly, his gaze flicked from her to the inside of her house. Eccentric. He was starting to realize that eccentric would be a good way to sum up White Crest as a whole. Eccentric and headache-inducing. A hunter’s sense served as both a gift and a curse. A reminder that life balanced itself out in the end. “Is it alright if I come in? ‘Spose I have to check on the sink as it is. What’s been going on with it again?”

“Great! Come on in!” Bea exclaimed as she moved out of his way and motioned him in. She wasn’t used to having people over to help her with things like this unless it was Shiloh or her dad. It was a bit weird, but she decided to just roll with it. “Do you need anything to drink?” She offered, figuring it was the polite thing to do. She led him to her kitchen sink, glaring at it before shifting her gaze to him, though her look was much more pleasant when she looked back at him. “It just keeps leaking. I thought it was just the facet, but it’s underneath too and honestly, the sound is driving me nuts.”

The hunter nearly flinched at her enthusiasm. Instead, Nic offered a curt nod and carried on into the house. At her question, he considered whether it was too early or unprofessional to ask for something heavier than water. He went for it. “Whiskey’s fine,” he said, then to be safe he followed it up. “Or water. I’m easy.” His hunter sense prickled at the back of his neck, but the same as anything else, nothing was certain. His shoulders tensed as he turned the sink on and listened. Yeah, something was definitely wrong with. Something lower. The sink was turned off just as quickly and he knelt down, cracking open the cupboards. Immediately, his eyes became intimate with mold and narrowed. Clicking on a flashlight, he looked at the pipes that ran up and back. Loose pipes with dangling washers. They could have just slid, but it almost looked...deliberate. He glanced at the neat stack of o-rings in the shadowy corner. “Hmm. Got any friends that might like the occasional prank or two?”

That wasn’t the response that Bea expected but she kept her features cool in her pleasant host face. She didn’t want to make the situation weird, though it was odd for him to ask for whiskey. He was there to work on her sink, but she didn’t think his work would suffer too much from a single glass of whiskey. “Okay, great,” She replied before pulling out one of her glasses and then going to her liquor cabinet and pouring him some whiskey. It wasn’t like she drank it that often. She padded over to him, holding the glass of whiskey out for him. “My little sister might, but not usually when it would affect her too. Why? Was someone messing with the sink?”

The whiskey had been a bad joke, but who would Nicodemus be to turn it down? It was easy to smother a laugh as he downed the whiskey in a straight shot. “Oh, uh, thank you kindly.” He grumbled as he returned to looking at the sink with annoyance. Something was there, lingering by the sink pipes, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He could feel it though and he tapped at his bent knee. “Huh, might not be her then,” he said with a wise nod. Not gonna say you’ve got a sink saboteur. Only small child-sized hands could really pull off the shit he was looking at. And he felt their eyes on him, watching him. In a house, pulling off tricks, being a goddamn nuisance...He muttered under his breath. “Goddamn brownies.” He looked back up to the owner of the house. “Alright, this might be a weird request, but...” He sucked in a breath before he spoke again. “Do you have a fuck ton of salt?”

Bea felt like she suddenly understood why he was so cheap compared to other handymen around the neighborhood. She didn’t think the other ones would have asked for the whiskey, much less just downed it in a straight shot. Though, who was she to judge. She busied herself tidying up the kitchen a bit more as he worked, not wanting to seem like she was hovering, which she was, but she didn’t want it to be blatant. Her eyes snapped towards him as he made his request and her face automatically soured. Great, something was in her fucking house again. She quickly pulled a rather large container labeled “NOT KITCHEN SALT” down from a shelf. “So what’s down there?” She asked, her tone much less enthusiastic now.

The hunter wiggled his nose slightly before pinching the bridge of it. How was Nicodemus supposed to explain this to someone who may or may have not known what a brownie was outside of the edible variety? After this, he could go for a fucking edible brownie. He huffed in a sigh and cleared his throat, rubbed at the back of his head. “So you might have a problem,” he started, slow and trying to find the right words to aptly describe it as he went along. “With rodents. Looks like they’re unscrewing the washers and taking the o-rings off. That’s why the sink is doing that.” On purpose and with expert precision. Rats with the hands of people wasn’t a bad description of brownies. He stood up and placed his hands on his hips. The kitchen didn’t have too many entrances and the windowsill could have salt put on it. Fuck, she was going to think he was weird. “I might need to use the--” he paused and glanced at the jar. “Not Kitchen Salt for, uh, extermination means.” He quickly glanced at her and rubbed at his stubbly jaw. “For the rats.”

A smile quirked at the corner of Bea’s mouth. It was nice of him to lie to her about what was actually going on, but she didn’t believe for a second that rats needed that much salt. She debating letting him continue on, but he’d figure out she knew about the supernatural sooner or later into this endeavour. “What is actually down there?” She asked, her voice slightly amused. “I know it’s not rats unscrewing my washers.” Usually, she would have done what she could pretend to be blind to the supernatural world, but this was a situation called for honesty. “Rats don’t usually need salt.”

Nicodemus tipped his head back and released a massive breath. Alright, it felt good to have passed that. He was a shit liar to begin with when it came to critters being where they shouldn’t be. He lightly clapped his hands together. How she knew or what she knew about the things that lived behind the curtain, he didn’t know and didn’t think it was imperative to ask at that very moment. “Thank fuck. Alright, so you’ve got brownies. Ever dealt with them?” He gestured to the salt vaguely. “They’re real picky with houses and like to be real goddamn annoying. Hence the sink shit.” He walked over to one of the openings to the kitchen and measured it with his eyes. “And they can’t beat cheeks over salt lines.” He bit at his bottom lip and grunted. “...I’ll help clean, because it’s gonna get pretty bad in here to get rid of ‘em.”

“Brownies,” Bea exclaimed, with a half laugh. The universe just loved to play massive games with her. Maybe this was her karma for spilling all her sister’s secrets to Alain. “I’ve never had them before, but I’ve heard they’re annoying little things. My aunt had brownies once in her home and the place smelt bad for a week after she tried to get rid of them.” She let out a groan under her breath, “I just cleaned the kitchen.” She took a handful of salt, beginning the ring around the kitchen. “So how do you know about brownies?” She asked, curious.

“Yup, brownies,” Nicodemus echoed with an exasperated look. Naming the shits wasn’t what he was in charge of. Just dealing with them. “They’re awful and they smell once they--Yup, that’s the one,” he held up a finger and shook it; a gesture of agreement. Alright, so she knew about the brownies. A good start. “So they’re about to unleash some hell on your house and it ain’t gonna be pretty, but we can get rid of them for good and at least keep them in the damn kitchen.” He was starting to wonder what had befallen him that he was fighting the most child-sized of creatures just days apart from each other. “Put some salt along the entrances and the window, they can’t really go anywhere.” He drew himself out of hunter mode and peered over at her. “Oh. Right. I deal with pest extermination.” A fine enough explanation. “You? Was it just your aunt?”

“Awful name.” Bea remarked,”Brownies are a good dessert. They don’t deserve to be lumped with these things.” She was going to have fun telling Nellie about the brownies that were found under the kitchen sink. With their family’s fondness of brownies as a food, it was hilarious (and very irritating) that the creatures kept finding them too. “My house has been through so much already,” She said exasperated, to herself. After the whole debacle with Greg, she thought the place would be peaceful for a minute. She put the salt down carefully, trying to make sure there was no way one of the little things couldn’t sneak its way out. She hummed noncommittally. “I know a lot of things.”

“You can say that shit again,” Nicodemus huffed. Any sense of professionalism slipped out the door the minute he muttered goddamn brownies. “Feels like a bad joke, but ain’t that just the way.” He didn’t think he had any iron on him, but when he found some small cast iron washers in his box, he smiled to himself. “That right? I respect that. I know a lot of things too. Comes in handy sometimes.” Not quite brass knuckles and he didn’t expect to get into a slug fest with brownies...But he wouldn’t complain if he did. After watching her place the salt, he nodded and looked at the underbelly of the sink again. With the two of them staring at it, he hoped the brownies were getting worried. He glanced over at Beatrice with a raised brow. “You got a lighter?”

Bea let out an amused puff of air, not quite at the point of actual laughter when there were brownies just mere feet away from them. “Who names them? Half the time they have such funny names I can’t tell if they’re serious or not.” When she grew up learning about the names of different creatures, she had always had thoughts on the naming processes. “Comes in handy a lot in this town,” She muttered under her breath, wondering if she would have brownies if she was just hanging out in Portland. She looked at him for a moment,“Why would I need a lighter?” Of course, fire was always just a snap away for Bea so she had never needed to carry a lighter. She felt bad for people who had to, it seemed like so much work.

“I don’t know, but I’ll see ‘em in court,” Nicodemus muttered as he crouched down and looked into the dark under the sink. “Town’s pretty fucky in its own right, isn’t it?” Somewhere, the brownies were in there and they were watching them. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and ran down his spine. He likened it to a killing intent and if he intended anything, it was to kill the damn things. At her question, he hummed low in his throat thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t think they’ll take kindly to fire if I put it in their face,” he said. He reckoned that the brownies wouldn’t be thrilled with a mini flamethrower burning the hair off their heads. “Gonna try and smoke ‘em out unless you got something else I can use.”

“Let me know when you have your court date, I’ll join in on that.” As Bea watched him, she leaned against the counter. There was no need to crowd his space as he looked for the brownies under the sink. Quite frankly, she wasn’t all that tempted to see them herself, they were ugly little things. She hummed, debating whether or not it was worth blowing her secret. Finally, she came to the conclusion that if it got her house peaceful again, it was worth the risk. Snapping her fingers, a little burst of fire danced over her thumb. “I don’t need a lighter.”

All the brownies needed was a good scare and then Nicodemus would be able to sniff them out. The curse of enhanced senses, truly. He contemplated the mechanics of jerry-rigging a small flamethrower together and sticking it under the sink, but that wouldn’t do. Then he’d have more to do than just fix the sink. The snap and smell of flame drew his attention fast, his head snapping up. Well, that was something he could circle as a possibility for why his head was throbbing. “Well fuck,” he said plainly. Tools jostled as he pulled out a cast-iron knife from the bottom. He figured they were at a point where pulling a knife out wouldn’t be weird. “Yep, you sure as shit don’t. Y’mind waving that under there? I’m sure they probably know what’s coming.”

Bea let out a little laugh when his head snapped around. There was always pleasure in surprising someone with her magic. She knew that it wasn’t the nicest thing to find amusing, but it was just always so funny seeing how different people reacted to her. She squatted down next to Nic, glancing under the sink. It was no shock that she couldn’t see anything lurking. She stuck her hand, still with the flame at her fingers under the sink. Once again, she had to admit she was thankful that her mom forced her to put fire wards around the house. “I’m hoping that knife is for the brownies and not me,” She teased with another laugh.

"We'll see where we're at after the brown--Fuckin' Christ, there it is." The smell hit Nicodemus so damn hard he nearly vomited right there. To hell with his fucking senses, sometimes he felt he'd do better off without them. Her flame-kissed fingers terrified the brownies something fierce because the smell of death and all things awful hit. And then the scurrying started. Small hands and bodies slammed and slapped at them as they took off running. The press of something against his hand had Nic jabbing with the iron knife, a hiss and a sad snarl coming from an invisible as its face suddenly became clear, the blade wedged in deep enough to go through. The hunter frowned. As smart as they were, fear made them stupid. And they ran straight into the salt lines, tiny feet and hands scrabbling at the floor. "Huh. There's the stinky bastards."

There was nothing Bea could do to prepare herself for the smell that the brownies hit her with. “Oh my god!” She yelled as she covered her nose with her other hand. She had heard from her aunt about how disgusting the smell was, but she hadn’t imagined it would smell like this. This was goddamn awful. She hadn’t remembered that they could go invisible until the moment that she was caught stare at the space around her wondering where the heck all of them went. It took her a moment, but eventually she heard where they had gone. She aimed a tiny fireball at the noises, grazing one of the brownies’s side. “I hate that they can just disappear!”

It should have been a strange experience to shiv brownies, and yet, it wasn’t. Life was just a series of weird shit. The smell was bad for her too and Nicodemus was already dreading the clean-up that would follow. They were like skunks in that way. Singed skin alerted him to the presence of some of the invisible shits and he managed to stick one with the iron knife. He damn near prayed that no one walked by. Knife in hand and fireballs flying, they looked fucking nuts. But it was all for a good reason. “They’re the goddamn chihuahuas of the supernatural world,” he grumbled angrily. He grabbed two in one hand and ran them through clean, dropping their bodies. The smell damn near made him retch. The whiskey was a mistake and it started to rear up in him. He pointed at the longest line of salt. “The little feet, the little feet,” he repeated. “Fuckin’ bunched up.”

“They’re worse!” Bea groaned. “At least chihuahuas don’t smell this bad!” She could already imagine how long it was going to take to burn this smell out of her memory. She just hoped that her sisters would be out tonight while everything aired out. She didn’t want to hear them complain about how awful it was. She whipped around to stare at the section he pointed out. Taking a moment to try to aim, another fireball hit its mark. The smell of burnt flesh came through and a brownie suddenly flickered into view as it was too injured to keep up the invisibility.

Well, Nicodemus couldn’t argue that. As more brownies popped into view from her fireball, he cut them down until he couldn’t hear anymore light scampers of feet. He held his stomach as long as he could and tried to swallow down the smell, but their blood didn’t smell any better and shit was crispy. It was fine. It was fine. He smelled worse. He repeated that mantra as he held his nose in the crook of his elbow and breathed in the smell of his laundry detergent. “Think that’s it,” he said as he lowered his arm with a long exhale. “At least it better fuckin’ be.” The carnage of killing brownies looked entirely comical in a way it shouldn’t have and he laughed. Loud. “Well, it’d be pretty shit to charge you after all this…”

[ladyplantpots]

Something I promised to write for @ill-go-with-that-then !

Retirement

Hizashi takes the blindfold off Shouta gently, fingers shaking with nerves, before smiling and stepping backwards.

'Ta.. Ta-da.'

Blinking once, twice, Shouta looks around. He is... Standing in a garden? His fingers loosen around his cane. The remains of the setting sun warm his skin as he takes it all in - he's stood on a tiny cobblestoned path, resting on well-kept grass, surrounded by bright and beautiful plants. A cluster of sunflowers to his right stands proudly by a hand carved wooden bench, just enough room to sit two adults. Hizashi's car waits just at the entrance to the garden, which is surrounded by a simple and sturdy wooden picket fence.

The garden, Shouta quickly notes, must be situated on the very outskirts of the city - there is hardly any noise pollution, and the drive from their city-centre flat had taken a long time, though Shouta did have to wear the blindfold the whole time, so his estimates may be a little wrong. A couple of birds happily sing to one another as a plane lazily flies overhead.

The garden itself quite obviously belongs to the small cottage behind Hizashi. The building is just as impressive as the garden, a warm looking, painted-brick home with two large windows at either side of a simple wooden door. Outside each window sits an array of small potted plants, and Shouta offhandedly notes that they are all sporting colours he's quite fond of.

Hizashi has stayed quiet this entire time, nervously rubbing his hands together as he looks at his feet.

"Are we here to visit someone?" Shouta asks. His voice is soft, confused. Hizashi has been strange for the better part of a month now, ever since Shouta had finally announced his forced retirement to the public. Fifty two wasn't an awful age to retire, he'd supposed. He had certainly done his part, as Hizashi had told him again and again. Hizashi had been waiting on Shouta to retire from hero work, and announced his own retirement one week after Shouta.

Hizashi still does his radio show - after all, he does own one of Japan's most popular stations, and they both drop into UA every now and again to give lectures. But that's it.

In general, Shouta has mainly been working on healing. His leg will never regain full function, and he's coming to terms with that slowly. He has enough wages to comfortably retire with. He's saved an okay amount, nothing crazy, but enough.

Hizashi clears his throat and shakes his head.

"Um. N... No. This..."

Shouta waits patiently, though not without concern. It was perhaps the most nervous he has seen Hizashi, bar the mans' marriage proposal many years ago. Hizashi quickly sucks in a long breath, running his hands through his long hair, which is now a softer yellow than in the prime of his hero days.

"Sho," Hizashi finally says. Shouta smiles. "You... You've been there for me for as long as I can remember. Through every one of my worst days, and every one of my best - when - when I decided to take on three jobs, you supported me even though I know you hated it. When I had to leave Japan for two years, you waited for me. You were right there with me in that first disgusting apartment we ever owned. You sat right by me when I was in a coma. Right there until I woke up. You - God, you've shown me such unconditional love since day one, and every day I wake up next to you, Shouta? It's a blessing."

Shouta furrows his brow, reaching forward and placing his free hand on his husband's cheek.

"You do realise we're already married? You can't really propose again, dear."

Hizashi barks out a watery laugh, before shaking his head.

"Shouta, this... This is the surprise." Hizashi gestures to the garden, and to the cottage. Shouta isn't sure he could be more confused.

"Every paycheck I every got, I put a little bit of it aside," Hizashi continues. "Every late night, every dangerous villain, every marked test - it all contributed to this. To... To our new home. To here."

Shouta tears his eyes away from his husband and looks to the cottage. This quiet, beautiful place away from the hustle and the sirens and the screaming neighbours. Shouta's eyes are wide as he tries to understand, and Hizashi fills the silence.

"I... I've been working on this on and off for years, y'know. Planning with builders and contractors and the odd lawyer or two for the best way to go about this. I never thought just how massive this project would be. And of course, I - fuck, please don't think this was something I would hide from you in a weird, sneaky way! I just - I, I just." Hizashi bites his lip hard.

"I just want you to live your best life, in a home you deserve. No life-threatening hero work. No midnight emergency calls. I want you to wake up safe, warm, and happy. This - every single brick, every single flower, and absolutely every tiny moment of peace - it's here, for you."

Shouta doesn't quite know what to do with himself. So much presented at once - Hizashi had built a home? One that wasn't a dingy cramped flat like they're used to, smashed above and below noisy neighbours? Where did he find the time for this? How? 

Hizashi has turned away from Aizawa and walked to the front door. Unlocking it, still obviously very nervous, he manages a grand bow.

"Perhaps look around?"

Shouta walks into the house, his cane clutched tightly. He feels a lump wedge firmly in his throat, and soon, he stands in a living room filled with diminishing sunlight. Nearly every surface is draped in warm and beautiful cloths and throws, a huge plump sofa is sat under the window before a television. His gaze falls on a cat sleeping in a sunbeam on the windowsill - their cat. Ghost, a one-eyed persian they'd had for years. "I brought her here this morning," Hizashi supplied with a chuckle. 

Shouta can only blink as he moves to the next room - the kitchen, which Hizashi has elected to paint a citrus green. It's full of fresh food, all Shouta's favourites, and there's even a special shelf for juice packets. A small, sweet dining table sits in the centre of the room, placements set for two, with a single rose placed between them. He stands there in silence, until Hizashi clears his throat behind him.

"You haven't seen the bedroom yet."

Hizashi leads Shouta to a wooden door down a very short hallway from the living room, and waits. He looks incredibly nervous again, and Shouta can feel it coming off him in waves. Straightening himself up, Shouta takes a breath and swings open the door.

His cane thumps on the carpet as he brings his hands to his chest. 

Hizashi has managed to model the entire bedroom on the first one they had ever gotten together, just after they had graduated. Shouta feels himself reliving almost 30 years ago - both men had managed to get a flat together, just as they had started dating, and it was awful - an old dingy flat, both men had hated it, until one day Shouta had come home from hero work to find Hizashi had stuck sticker-stars all over their bedroom ceiling, and had bought so many comfy throws and pillows for the bed he could hardly see it. He had even stuck posters of bands they were both into at the time all over the walls to cover the cracks. 

Shouta remembers smiling so wide it hurt that night, and as he and Hizashi had curled up together under the stars that had been painstakingly applied to the ceiling, Shouta remembers telling Hizashi it was the most beautiful room he could have hoped to stay in.

Of course, the room Shouta now stands in has no cracks - instead, it has heating and beautifully wallpapered walls, but, all their old music posters are hung up too, torn and faded with time, each preserved in a glass frame, and the double bed is covered in throws and pillows, achingly similar to what Shouta can remember from so long ago - but it's the stars that really hit him. Each star is painstakingly applied, hundreds of them, though rather than stickers, these ones are all painted on. 

Shouta doesnt even bother asking if Hizashi did that part all on his own, he knows the answer. And at that moment, he's hit with another memory, just as Shouta steps further into the room. When they had first gotten their gross flat, Hizashi at the time had thought it funny to write on the wall. Just above their bed, a note for Shouta. And sure enough, now Shouta can see familiar black writing over their bed, and he already knows what it says before he even reads it. 

 'I, Yamada Hizashi, love Aizawa Shouta forever and ever, more than all the stars in the big dumb sky!' 

Shouta whips around, eyes wider than he thought possible. Hizashi is just standing there with that dorky look he knows so well, pulling at his hair a little, so utterly nervous it's painful. And they stay like that a moment, just one moment, as the summer evening air drifts through the house and Ghost pads into the room and jumps onto the bed. 

 And then Shouta crumples to the floor, his face buried in his hands. 

"Shouta!" Hizashi darts forward, practically throwing himself down next to his husband and wrapping his arms around him, and for the first time in a very long while, Shouta can feel tears freely fall down his face. 

"For me? You did this all, for me?" Hizashi laughs and holds Shouta tighter, brushing his thick dark hair back from his eyes, and of course he’s crying too. 

"Without a doubt, Sho. Everything in this home, I did with you in my heart. It's yours."

 And there's not even a pause as Shouta corrects Hizashi, his voice thick and full of so much love it could construct an entire universe. 

"Ours, ‘Zashi. It's ours." 

[beckzorz]

Snowed In (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 6279 Prompt: Snowed In Summary: You’re all set for a vacation in the woods. A cozy cabin, a fireplace, solitude… Then a tall stranger falls through you front door. What’s a girl to do? Rated: T for swearing A/N: Written for @interestedbystanderwrites holiday prompt challenge! Thanks for the fun :3 Hope you all enjoy! And Happy Hannukah 🕎

If you’d like some mood music, here’s a Spotify playlist I made for the story

If you like architectural layouts, here’s one for the cabin

>>> My Masterlist <<<

Bucky wiped his visor yet again and squinted into the blinding snow. The forecast had predicted a flurry, but the snow was falling in thick wet sheets. This was a straight-up blizzard. All he could hear was the struggling motor of his bike; apart from the biting cold, all he could feel was the thrum of the engine under his freezing hands. The narrow road was lined with thick trees, some of which were already bowed low under the weight of fallen snow. He could barely see ten feet in front of him. He could hear an approaching car, but there was no sight of it. Bucky hunched further over the handlebars.

A glow suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Shit!”

Bucky swerved his bike out of the way of the oncoming car, which was skidding straight at him. His front tire caught on a patch of ice and sent his bike into a careening lurch. The car’s horn blared endlessly.

“Shit shit shit!”

Bucky braced himself as his bike drove off the road into the woods, bouncing across the uneven ground. The back wheel snagged on a rock and hitched the bike up and back in an arc. Bucky pushed himself off with a grunt, heart racing and limbs flailing. He crashed right through a young tree, the splintering crack muffled by the snow, and landed heavily amid its spindly branches on the ground. His head ricocheted in his helmet; stars dotted his vision.

He groaned.

The heavy landing had shaken his whole body. The socket of his left arm, already sore from the extreme cold, throbbed with agony. The rest of him was sore, but after a moment lying still he determined nothing was broken. He pushed himself up to his knees with a fresh round of swears. Already snow had begun to seep in between his coat and the helmet. He reached up to brush it away, but his gloves were wet too. He drew his lips back in frustration and climbed slowly to his feet.

Well, he’d live.

His bike, on the other hand...

It was on its side, moving in a slow circle on the ground as the back wheel rotated against the ground. Black smoke was rising in a thin stream from the engine, the slick stench permeating his helmet. Bucky braced the frame with his boot and yanked out the key. The bike powered down with a sputter.

Great. Just great.

He was still three miles from the safe house, and the wind was picking up. He wiped the visor on his helmet for the hundredth time and nudged his bike with his boot. The road was barely visible from here. In another ten minutes the bike would be covered. No one would be able to see it, although it would take a crazy person to be out in this weather. Bucky scoffed. Well, crazy or desperate.

At any rate, he wasn’t driving a smoking bike anywhere. He was superpowered, not idiotic. Steve might have risked it, but Bucky knew he could get three miles on foot, blizzard or no.

Time to walk.

---

You wiped your face yet again and peeked under the splatter screen. The oil wasn’t quite hot enough, but another minute would do the trick. Perfect—just the right time to salt your first batch of latke batter. You sprinkled in a liberal amount of salt and mixed it through the gooey grated potatoes with a wooden spoon. By the time you were satisfied, the oil was spitting happily under the screen. You spooned a tiny test latke into the cast-iron pan and checked your watch. Thirty seconds was enough time to check out the front window to the road.

The tiny cabin in the woods was the perfect vacation spot. A loft for the bed, a roaring fireplace, a functional half-galley kitchen… Just what you needed to refresh after an aggressive autumn at work. You propped your arms on the chilly windowsill and peered out the window.

Oh, dear.

Road? What road? All you could see was an endless flurry of thick snowflakes beyond the window. Even your car in the driveway was barely visible. Well, at least the snow was pretty, especially with your menorah reflected in the glass. You snapped a photo on your phone and hurried back to the stove to flip the little latke.

The scent of frying was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help licking your lips in anticipation. As soon as the test latke was done, you fished it out of the oil and onto a paper towel. You patted it dry and popped it in your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you moaned. The mix of crunchy outside and perfectly cooked inside was perfect. The chopped onion added just the right level of sweetness. How had it taken this long for you to make homemade latkes?

Well, it wasn’t exactly a mystery. You worked, before that you were busy with school, and before that you were busy being a kid. Still, what a step up from pre-prepared.

You spooned six big dollops of latke batter around the edge of the pan. As you were dropping a final blob in the center, a loud bang echoed through the tiny cabin.

Someone was at the door.

---

Bucky felt like he had been walking for days. The endless snow erased time. His hands were stuffed in his armpits as he march onwards. Ice was building on his visor, but he was afraid to take the helmet off. It was already so cold that he wondered if his ears were blue. His fingers had to be. At least his breath was warm, though it was clinging to his cheeks and chin and freezing almost instantly. Why hadn’t he brought a scarf?

Truth was, he hadn’t prepared for this. He could’ve handled the predicted flurry—hell, even a regular snowfall. His bike would have been fine, and he would have been at the safe house ages ago. But this? This was unbearable.

He could barely feel his feet. His combat boots weren’t waterproof, and the snow had been building over the last two storms enough so that he was walking through close to a half-foot with every step. His socks were wet, and soon they’d be stuck to his feet. The snow might have been less deep on the road, but he’d almost been run over once tonight. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Bucky could survive freezing. It had kept him alive this long. Still, he’d rather not have to deal with it yet again. He bared his teeth and forced himself on.

Eventually, the caking ice completely covered the visor. He yanked the helmet off and tossed it aside with a growl. Even without the icy visor, he could barely see. The snow was falling thicker than ever, and the wind drove the icy flakes into his face, plastering them to his skin. Snow clung to his eyelashes and hair. Every blink was an effort, but the wind was too cold to keep his eyes open all the way.

The comm panel on his arm buzzed—he was in range of the safe house. Finally. He wiped his face with his sleeve, his shoulder whirring with disapproval. He could only see white. White blankness was everywhere—no trees, no safe house, no nothing. If he couldn’t feel the unevenness of the ground beneath his feet, he might not have known if he was even on dirt or concrete.

Bucky spun in a slow circle, inching forward as he tried to make out something, anything, in the blizzard.

At last, the glow of a light in a window caught his eye. Bucky shuffled along, his feet dragging on the ground. He grit his teeth and caught himself against the wall of a small cabin. Thin colored candles flickered cheerfully in the window. To his left was a lean-to entryway. Bucky braced himself against the door and banged hard with his left hand.

Then his head drooped, his chin hit his chest, and his eyes slid shut.

---

You glanced at the door, then back at your frying latkes. One minute before they needed to flip? You could make it, easy.

Who the heck was out in this weather? The blizzard was unexpected, but this cabin was in a remote part of the woods. And the closest house was much bigger—far easier to see. Closer to the main road, too.

You slipped into the entryway. Shivers immediately racked you; the warmth of the fire didn’t reach out here. The half-circle window at the top of the outer front door was half-blocked by a bent head.

Oh my gosh! They didn’t even have a hat? Were they crazy?

You unlocked the deadbolt with chilled hands. The moment you turned the doorknob, though, the door burst open, slamming you back into the side wall with a shriek as a giant man fell face-first against the inner door, which swung open under his weight. Snow swirled in from outside as you pressed a hand to the back of your head with a wince.

“Uuuugh,” the man groaned. He propped himself up on his elbows and knees, clearing the doorway. You quickly slammed the door shut and locked it automatically. Then you turned to your unexpected guest.

He was still on the floor, his clothes coated in peeling sheets of snow. You winced. How long had he been outside? You stood on tiptoes to squint out the window, but you couldn’t see another car in the driveway. Not that you could see far enough to see your own car, to be fair.

“Uh, are you okay?” you asked.

“Guh, yeah,” he grunted. He twisted up to sit and lean against the door jamb into the cabin, turning his icy face in towards the warmth. His shoulder-length dark hair was frozen in icy clumps, but they were starting to drip against his shoulders. After a moment, he turned to look up at you. “Sorry.”

You blinked. Oh. Oh my. You knew that face.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly. “Only—can you take off your shoes? I don’t want to leave this door open for too long.”

“Oh, right.” He reached down and tried to pull at the laces to his boots, but his fingers were stiff. His brow drew low as he wiped his cheek against his shoulder, but he only succeeded in spreading the snow further.

You winced. “Let me.” You edged away from the door, watching for dry spots on the wooden floor, and knelt to pull at the frozen knot. “Yikes, you take your shoe-tying seriously, don’t you?”

He grunted. You glanced up at him as you worked. His face was starkly pale under the snow, save for the bright spots on his cheeks and nose. He hung his head and let out a slow breath when your nails finally did the trick. He pulled that foot closer and shucked off the boot, tossing it at the outer door as you made quick work of the other.

“Thank you so much,” he said as he lurched to his feet. He gestured for you to go in first, and you glanced instinctively back towards the outside before wincing—you’d stepping in a puddle. Great. Time to change your socks.

The second you stepped inside, you remembered. “Shit!” you gasped. You ran to the stove and quickly flipped the seven latkes in the pan. Somehow, they hadn’t burnt. Thank god.

“Smells good.”

You spun around, surprised. “Thanks.”

“I’m Jimmy,” the man said. He’d shut the door into the lean-to, and somewhere along the way he’d brushed most of the snow off his clothes. Still, what was left was forming a puddle on the floor. His nose was still bright red. His eyes were darting around the cabin, taking it all in.

You raised an eyebrow. Jimmy? Well, if that was what he wanted, Jimmy it was.

“Hi Jimmy,” you said. “You’re making a puddle.”

Jimmy glanced at his feet and winced. “Mind if I use the dryer?” he asked.

You shook your head and turned back to the stove where you could digest the last few minutes in relative privacy.

This was supposed to be a quiet solo vacation for cooking, reading, and introverting so hard you repelled everyone in a three-mile radius. Instead, you were suddenly trapped in a tiny cabin with a strange large man. A strange man, and a stranger.

Did you even have enough food for both of you? A guy that size was bound to have a voracious appetite. And it’s not like you could go shopping. The internet hadn’t lasted long once the storm started in earnest, but an updated forecast had predicted snows through tomorrow at least.

Well, you’d come here with plans to cook latkes for some colleagues, but they might have to wait. You weren’t about to let ‘Jimmy’ starve on your watch. That would just be unkind.

You fished the latkes out of the pan and let them drip on prepared paper towels. You wiped your face; between the fire, the stove, and the oven, the cabin was toasty. And now you had extra body heat.

The dryer turned on with a rumble, and you glanced behind you. And froze.

Jimmy had taken off more than his jacket. All he had on was long underwear and a thermal long-sleeved top, both black. They clung like a second skin. You swallowed. Jimmy looked at you with a sudden twinkle in his eye as he squeezed his hair out over one shoulder with his right hand. His left hand was behind his back.

“Want some latkes?” you asked quickly. You took out a plate from the cabinet and pulled the sour cream from the fridge.

“Uh, sure.”

Jimmy took a seat at the table. You tried not to tense under his scrutiny, but you were suddenly very aware of his eyes on you as you prepared his plate. Plus, you’d forgotten to change your socks. Oops.

“Order up,” you chirped, sliding the plate across the table to him. You turned the oven off and covered the oil with the splatter shield. Latkes were quick to make, and you needed to figure out what the hell was going on. But first, you wanted to see how the full-sized latkes turned out.

By the time you turned back to Jimmy, he was chomping on half a latke. The sour cream was untouched, making the bliss on his face even more satisfying. He swallowed thickly, and you bit your tongue as you studied his pale face.

“Oh my god,” Jimmy moaned. He swallowed and looked up at you, blue eyes wide. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks!” You leaned against the counter and grinned as you tugged off your damp socks. You had only eaten the test so far, but yeah. The moan was right on point.

Jimmy shoveled the rest of the latke into his mouth. Despite his bulky size, all you could think of as you watched him was of yourself as a kid, doing the exact same thing. Of course, you never had to hide your left hand as studiously as he did. You felt bad, but you didn’t want to spoil his pretense.

“Try it with sour cream,” you suggested. You fixed yourself a plate with the two remaining latkes and brought two glasses of water. You sat across from him, your bare feet tucked up under you. He nodded and dropped a lump of sour cream on his plate, then passed it to you. You took it with a grateful smile.

“What happened to your hands?”

You looked down at your hands in surprise. Oh, of course. The tips of your fingers were covered with red scrapes, but not for no reason. “Well, when you grate twelve pounds of potatoes, you’re liable to grate a bit of yourself, too.” A dramatic wiggle of your fingers made him cringe and push his plate back.

“Are there finger bits in here?” he asked, brow pinched. You couldn’t help blinking innocently.

“Why would you think that? Are they finger-lickin’ good?”

Jimmy squinted at you, suspicious. You bit the inside of your lip and tried not to laugh. Finally, you gave in and giggled. His lips curved into a tiny smile and his eyes crinkled.

Gosh, what blue eyes.

“No, there are no finger bits,” you told him. “That would be very unkosher.”

“Right…”

Jimmy pulled his plate back and inhaled the rest of his latkes with dogged efficiency and a frankly unhealthy amount of sour cream. You took your time. His plate was clear before you’d even finished your first.

“How are you eating so slow?” he asked.

“For starters, I wasn’t caught in a blizzard,” you said. “What happened to you?”

“I hit a patch of ice at the same time as a car coming the other direction,” he said. You clapped a hand to your mouth in horror. “Had to swerve off the road. My bike’s lying somewhere in the woods a few miles from here.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible! You walked all that way?”

Jimmy shrugged and scratched his chest. “Made it, didn’t I?”

“Well, thank god,” you said fervently.

He smiled slowly. “Glad you’re relieved.”

“Well, of course,” you said, suddenly shy. You cut into your second latke and shrugged. “The alternative is pretty ugly.”

His bark of laughter was unexpected. “I guess so!”

“So where were you headed?” That was a reasonable question to ask, right?

“My, uh, friends have a place near here,” he said slowly. He glanced towards the window. “Man, it’s seriously snowing out there.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to keep going until tomorrow.” Your second latke finished, you head back to the stove for another batch, abandoning Jimmy to his clogged arteries. Once the oil started to spit, you dropped the next bunch in and went back to the table.

Jimmy was quiet as he stared past the menorah at the blizzard, his profile standing out against the distant snow. You studied the lines of his face. He was frowning, you realized.

“I—”

“You can stay here,” you blurted, interrupting him.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. Then he smiled, the tension in his face fading. “Thank you so much.”

“Well, it’d take a seriously crazy person to shove you back outside in this weather,” you said. “Especially with all your stuff in the dryer!”

He grinned. “A good point,” he murmured. His bright blue eyes fixed on yours. “Still, thank you.”

“Of course,” you answer, face warmer than ever.

By the time the second batch of latkes was ready, Jimmy was studying the rest of the toppings you’d lined up on the table.

“Smoked salmon? Really?” he asked.

You laughed. “Yes! It’s great with the sour cream. If you don’t want any, that’s fine by me. I love that stuff.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ll try it,” he said.

“Suit yourself.”

Jimmy eventually agreed that lox was reasonable, but he left most of it for you. He seemed to favor sour cream and applesauce. Then again, those were the classics. You couldn’t blame him.

“Are you making more?” he asked.

“Not until tomorrow. They’re better fresh.” You stood up to cover the batter, reaching across the table for Jimmy’s plate as you did.

“No way,” he said. “I got the plates. It’s the least I can do.”

Jimmy washed while you cleared the food away. You cast furtive glances at him as you covered the various toppings. He didn’t seem to notice.

“So do you live here?” he asked.

“That would be ideal, but no, I’m just on vacation.”

“What do you do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Property management,” you said. “You?”

“Security,” he said without hesitation. He finished scrubbing the silverware. “So you like the snow?”

“It’s pretty,” you told him. “I’m not particularly keen on shoveling, but it’s nice. I’m really here for the quiet.”

“Ah.” He turned to lean against the counter and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “In that case, I’m sorry to impose.”

“Oh—it’s alright. Not your fault,” you assured him. Your toes were starting to get cold. “I’m just going to get new socks.” You picked up the wet ones from the floor and tossed them in the dryer with his clothes, then climbed up into the loft to rummage through your small suitcase. “Oh hey,” you called, “I have some pajama pants that might fit you. My brother didn’t want them.”

“Uh, sure…”

You tossed down the pajama pants monogrammed with your hometown’s most famous sports team. “He doesn’t like sports,” you explained.

“You do?” Jimmy’s voice was muffled—he must have gone to change in the bathroom.

“Well, they have their place.” You pulled on a new pair of socks and climbed back down, dropping past the last few rungs with a smile. Jimmy came out of the bathroom, his left hand in his pocket. Your smile died and you swallowed thickly. Somehow, the plaid pajama pants riding low on his hips was an even sexier look than the skin-tight thermals he’d been sporting before. How was that even possible?

He popped his thermal pants in the dryer with the rest of his clothes. His shirt rode up slightly as he crouched in front of the low door, exposing a sliver of pale skin. “Thanks. Flannel is good stuff.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome.”

You hurried over to the fireplace, desperate for a distraction. Letting him stay was the only moral option, but my god, you were suffering. You settled for curling up on the couch, thinking hard.

Jimmy was tall enough that there was no way he’d fit comfortably on the couch, and you weren’t sure you had enough blankets to set up something makeshift on the floor. It was warm now, but as the night wore on, you knew it would get chillier.

Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got to it. In the meantime, Jimmy settled next to you, an ankle on his opposite knee. His fingers traced the plaid pattern of the pajama pants. You pulled your sweater over your knees and stared hard into the fire. You did not stare at his thighs.

“So what were you planning on doing?” Jimmy asked. “Before I showed up.”

“Nothing, really.” You tucked your hands under your feet. “Read some books, cook a billion latkes, light some candles.”

Jimmy glanced over at your menorah. Most of the candles had burnt out, but two still flickered low.

“My ma had one kinda like that,” he mused.

Your eyebrows flew up. “Really?” you asked, delighted.

“Mm.” He hummed noncommittally and fiddled with the patch logo on his pants.

You tried not to quiver with excitement. He was Jewish? You never would have guessed! You were dying to know more—but asking about his family was not the right move.

Bummer.

“One of my, uh, neighbors has one too,” he added after another minute. “It’s a different shape. Looks like a city.”

“Like Jerusalem,” you murmured.

“How do you know that?” he said sharply. His eyes narrowed.

Your pulse pounded. Uh oh. “Something Jewish with a city on it? That city is usually Jerusalem,” you said evenly.

“Oh.” He slumped back against the couch. “Right.”

“Yeah, Judaica can get a little repetitive. Stars, Jerusalem, pomegranates, tree of life… My menorah’s pretty old-fashioned. I’ll get a fancy one someday.”

“What are you waiting for?”

You shrugged. “A time when I don’t feel the need to be stingy with my disposable income? A second opinion to help me decide which style I want? Every year I see a new one I like. I don’t want to end up with something I’ll be unhappy with down the road.”

“Huh.” Jimmy shifted in his seat and propped his right arm up on the back of the couch. He wasn’t putting his arm around your shoulders or anything, but his dangling hand was only inches from your shoulder. Your eyes lingered on his blunt fingernails, the veins etched into his skin. “What’s your latest favorite?”

“It’s a tree of life,” you said. “It’s delicate, but really beautiful. It’s not just a plain straight thing, you know? It’s… I don’t know how to put it. It’s a quiet design. It reminds me of being alone up here among the trees.” You smile wistfully. “It’s also like, two hundred bucks. So that’s kind of a damper.”

“For an art piece? That’s not too bad.” Jimmy licked his lips as he looked into the fire. “Especially if it reminds you of something you like.”

“I do love it up here,” you confessed. “It’s so nice to finally get away from everything.”

“Yeah… Listen, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation.”

“Don’t be! I’m glad I could help.” You stood up and stretched. The digital clock on the stove shone bright red. That late? You winced. With a glance back at Jimmy, whose eyes are fixed on you, you make up your mind. “Listen, it’s getting late. The bed in the loft is big enough for three people, so you should fit fine. If you don’t mind sharing.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows flew up. “If I mind? Are you sure you don’t?”

“Well, I don’t really have enough blankets to spare to make up something else. Are you planning on behaving badly?”

He swallowed, his eyes darkening as he looked you over. “I wouldn’t say that…”

You laughed nervously. Much though he was the sexiest man you’d ever been this close to, you knew you couldn’t give in to that sort of talk. “Well, if you don’t think you can behave, you can use the couch. Or the floor.”

“Alright, alright.” Jimmy jumped to his feet and made for the bathroom, scratching the back of his head. His left hand was still in his pocket “Heard loud and clear.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” As soon as the bathroom door shut behind him, you heaved a miserable sigh and stoked the fire for the night. You climbed up to the loft to prepare for bed.

If only!

---

Bucky locked the bathroom door and sat with his back to it, his ear cocked for any sudden noises. He finally pulled his hand out of his pocket. Thank god for the pajama pants, and thank god the collar on his thermal top was snug around his neck. His hostess hadn’t noticed his metal arm. Or at least, she hadn’t said anything. She’d given no indication that she recognized him at all, which was a relief. As much as this was an unplanned detour, he couldn’t say he minded it so far. A cute hostess, a cozy cabin, damn good food… Yeah, he could manage.

He tugged the thermal shirt over his head and tossed it aside. With some dedicated tugging with his fingernail, a panel on his metal wrist popped open to reveal a button and speaker. He pushed the button three times in quick succession.

“Barnes reporting,” he murmured.

Low static hissed; he pressed his ear against the door, but his hostess was out of earshot.

“Tinman, what the hell happened to you?”

“Keep it down, Wilson, I got stranded in this damn blizzard. Lost my bike. I’m stuck at a civilian’s house in the mountains not far from the pick-up point. I’ll get there as soon as I can, but it’s still snowing.”

“Yeah, I saw the forecast.” Sam spoke quieter now, thank god. “Glad you’re okay.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Bucky promised. “Right now I think it’s bedtime.”

“Hope your civvie is cute,” Sam joked.

Bucky ended the call, cheeks warm. Yeah, she was cute. Too bad he couldn’t do anything about it. Still, he knew how to behave. And as much as he still had trouble sleeping in soft beds, he knew better than to pass up blankets on a night like tonight. He shut the panel in his wrist, pulled his shirt back on, and rinsed his mouth.

Now to make sure he got the left side of the bed.

---

“I prefer the right side, I hope you don’t mind,” you told Jimmy. You’d pulled off your sweater and were already curled up on the far side of the bed, eyes barely open.

“Whichever,” he said. He slid quietly in beside you, a healthy distance between you. “Thanks again, sweetheart.”

You froze, and then a warmth blossomed in your chest. You snuggled further down, a goofy smile on your face. “You’re welcome, Jimmy.”

---

Was the pillow always this hard? You reached up to fluff it, but your fingers ended up jabbing into someone’s underarm.

Jimmy flipped over with alarming speed, pulling his right arm from under your head so fast your head snapped the other way. Red-hot pain lanced through your neck. You cried out, eyes squeezed shut as you clutched at your throat.

“Shit shit shit, are you okay?” Jimmy demanded. He brushed his fingers against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and a sudden burst of awareness to your brain—you were in bed! With a man! And he was hot! You whimpered, but managed a nod. You didn’t dare open your eyes. The pain was agonizing, but even worse was knowing how close he was and that there was nothing you could do about it.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you croaked. You massaged your neck and waited for the pain to fade. “My fault. I forgot you were here.” You finally cracked your eyes open. Jimmy quickly buried his left hand in the blankets between you. He was crouched on his knees, hunched over to avoid the loft’s low ceiling.

“It’s seven,” he said abruptly. “Do you mind if I go through what you have in the kitchen? I can make breakfast.”

“I was planning on eggs and pancakes…” You cracked a smile. What a gem.

“You got it,” he murmured.

You closed your eyes and turned your head away to give him plausible deniability with his arm. His weight moved off the bed, and his jump down shook the whole cabin. You threw an arm over your eyes and screwed up your mouth.

Sure, jump eight feet. Very subtle, Jimmy.

By the time you made it downstairs, your neck was mostly better and Jimmy was working on the pancakes. He’d stoked the fire; it crackled cheerfully, warm and cozy.

“Wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs,” he said. “Pancakes, on the other hand, just have one setting.” You started to walk over to help, but Jimmy waved you off. “Sit down, miss. I got this.”

Plausible deniability aside, being waited on by a sexy hunk in your own pajama pants was a dream come true.

“Thank you so much,” you told him. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

You stretched out on the couch, grabbing a book from the table and picking up where you’d left off. You got through another chapter before Jimmy came over with two plates stacked high with pancakes.

“Here,” he said, pushing one at you. He lifted your legs and sat down, dropping your legs back on his lap.

You laughed, surprised. “Thanks.”

Jimmy shot you a cheeky grin and stuffed a whole pancake in his mouth. There was a hint of stubble across his cheeks. If anything, it made him look better, even with cheeks bulging with breakfast. Why couldn’t he do something that made him less irresistible?

You ignored him as best you could as you ate. When you’d both finished, Jimmy took the dishes and washed them again. He even washed the griddle. Meanwhile, you picked dried wax off the menorah so the next set of candles would fit. The view outside was beautiful. The trees were covered in snow, your car was mostly buried, and the sky was bright.

You blinked.

“It stopped snowing!” you blurted. You spun back to Jimmy.

He turned his head just enough for you to see the curve of his jaw over his shoulder. “Yep. Guess the new forecast was reactionary.”

Jimmy’s voice wasn’t as chipper as it had been. You bit your lip, twining your fingers together as you stared at the scenery. As unexpected as his arrival had been, his company had been, surprisingly, just what you’d needed. Was he as sorry as you were that the blizzard was over?

“What’s your plan?” you asked reluctantly. Jimmy chewed his lip, thinking.

“If you’ve got a phone, I can call my buddy. He can pick me up once the road’s cleared.”

“Oh, sure…”

You knew perfectly well that this road would be cleared soon. Jimmy would call his friend, the road would get cleared, and you would be alone. Again.

Somehow, that prospect didn’t fill you with quite as much joy as it usually did.

---

“Thanks so much, man. I owe you.”

Bucky climbed into the passenger side of Sam’s SUV.

“Damn,” Sam said. He pushed his sunglasses down his nose and nodded at the cabin. “Did she kick you out or something?”

“Huh?” Bucky glanced over as he buckled in. His hostess was hovering in the window, but when he waved, she gave a tight smile and stepped back out of sight. “No, no. Just didn’t want to impose.”

Sam whistled low. “Yeah… I feel that.” He changed gears, did a tight three-point turn in the middle of the road, and drove off.

---

“Buck!”

Bucky grinned and slapped Steve on the back as they hugged. As grating as the group living at the compound could be, it was good to be home. It had taken a few days, too. “Hey man. Sorry I missed movie night. Got held up—had to fish my bike out of a snowbank, and then Sam made me do all his work.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Steve said warmly. “You look good, all things considering. How were the latkes?”

“Amazing,” Bucky gushed. Then his eyes narrowed. “Latkes? How do you know about the latkes?”

“Oh, she told me,” Steve said, eyebrows raised and lips curled up in a smile.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she okay?”

“Course she is. You didn’t scar her for life or anything,” Steve assured him, but Bucky was looking around frantically.

“But why were you talking to her? Why was she talking to you? She’s just—”

“Right there,” Steve said helpfully, turning Bucky by the shoulders. Bucky gaped. Steve grinned unrepentantly. “Funny story, that… You know she was supposed to bring me some. Instead, my portion all went to waste on you.”

“Wha…”

Right there, talking to Wanda and holding a stack of tupperware containers filled with latkes, was his hostess. Unlike last time he’d seen her, she was dressed professionally, with nice shoes instead of fuzzy socks and a fitted blazer instead of an oversized sweater.

How could he have missed her before? She was glowing, the color of her blazer just right and her smile brilliant. Did he really spend so much time to himself that he’d missed a treasure right under his nose?

She glanced aside, caught his eye, and froze. Bucky shrugged out of Steve’s grip and jogged over, eyes wide. Her lips twitched as he approached, and a sudden rush of warmth surged through him as he stopped in front of her. He nodded to her stack of tupperware.

“So… is one of those for me?”

---

You couldn’t help but laugh at Bucky’s question. “No, I’m sorry!”

“Who, then?” he pressed.

“Um, let’s see… Wanda, here, take yours.” You were left with three. Wanda gave a little wave and wandered over to Steve, glancing back at you and Bucky with a sly grin. You ignored her and touched each tupperware in turn. “One’s for Sam, one’s for Peter in Queens, and the last one is for my lunch.”

“You knew who I was the whole time,” Bucky said. “And I didn’t realize. No wonder you knew about Wanda’s menorah.”

“I mean, you are kind of famous.” You shifted your weight, suddenly a little guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I just figured… I don’t know what you were doing, but in case you were being tailed, I figured being vague was safer for everyone.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, no way, do not apologize. It was the right thing to do. And, uh, I liked being normal for a day.”

You frowned at him, heart twisting. That was one thing you pitied the Avengers for. All you did was keep the properties up and running. You could go home, go shopping, go for the occasional night out, and no one bothered you. But if Bucky Barnes wanted a night out… Well, he didn’t get one.

“Well,” you said, “I’d be glad to be normal with you again anytime.”

“Really?” he said, inching closer. He snatched one of your containers away and hid it behind his back with a hopeful grin. “Now that everything’s cleared up, how about we give Steve his latkes, and we go be normal over lunch?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I’d like that,” you murmured, cheeks warm.

Bucky’s grin broadened. His eyes sparkled. “It’s a date,” he said.

“Alright.” You bit your lip to contain your grin, but you knew happiness shone on your face as brightly as it did on Bucky’s. “It’s a date.”

---

“You know,” you told him over lunch, “the cabin I was staying in is right next to the safehouse. They’re only, like, a hundred feet apart.”

Bucky blinked. He put down his fork and banged his head lightly against your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his head. “You probably would have frozen solid before you made it there.”

He sat up, shaking his head. “I’ll never live this down,” he groaned.

You tried not to laugh at his pathetic expression. “Well, I think it all turned out for the best.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at last. He brushed his thumb across your cheek. You leaned into his hand, unable to tear your gaze from his blue eyes. “Yeah, it sure as hell did.”

Thanks for reading! Tagging: @interestedbystanderwrites @kentuckybarnes @noshitstark @fortheloveofjbbarnes @sgtjbuccky @bitsandbobsandstuff @buckitybarnes @the-whitewolfie @the-canary @moonbeambucky @itsbuckysworld @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lexgirl79 @laurfangirl424 @alittle-crazy @kenzieam @shreddedparchment

Bold = can’t tag :/

If you would like to be tagged (or if you would not like to be) just ask!

[iwroteinapastlife]

Snowed In

I am super late, but I’m still planning to finish all of @mlrarepairmonth, so stay tuned!

Day 19: Snowed In

Ship: Luka x Nathaniel

cw: Super super angsty.

“This one.” Nathaniel tapped his index finger over Luka’s shirt—where he knew the image of a snake wrapped around a guitar sat etched into his skin. “That’s my favorite.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s mine.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m serious. That’s my favorite tattoo I’ve ever given.” He sat back again and took a sip of his tea as he watched Luka’s eyes analyze him, assessing whether or not he was lying as he always did. Eventually, he smiled.

“Good. Because it’s my favorite tattoo I’ve ever gotten.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes—a smile threatening the corner of his lips. “Now you’re the one who’s just saying that.” The man had way too many tattoos for that one to possibly be his favorite—tattoos that he knew held a lot of meaning. Like the music notes tucked behind his ear, the lyrics to his favorite song on the inside of his arm, or his mother’s and sister’s birthdays on the back of his shoulder. Sure, he had put a lot of work into that tattoo to make sure it really captured Luka, but—

“No, I’m not,” he said, a warm, almost tender look in his eyes. That look caught him, and suddenly they were there together in that moment. Luka leaned in slowly, coming far too close considering how little space was already between them.

Nathaniel’s breath hitched in his throat and he was suddenly all too aware of the beating in his chest—of the heart that was crushing under the weight of that gaze. Before he could get lost in those eyes—lost in that blue that absolutely destroyed him every time—he turned to look out the window and cleared his throat.

“Looks like the storm isn’t letting up.” It was just hours ago when the snow outside had stacked up high enough to reach his bottom windowsill. Now, nearly a third of the glass was covered, the rest of it boasting the image of a blurry and disorienting frozen wasteland. “Sorry you got trapped here.”

Luka still hadn’t backed up. That tenderness that had been in his eyes seeped into his voice as he replied, “I’m not.”

The snake coiled around his heart squeezed tighter. Nathaniel didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes focused on the storm and taking another drink from his mug. He purposely drank until it was empty.

“I’m going to make more tea,” he said, quickly getting up from the couch. He grabbed Luka’s mug off the coffee table and walked away. “Want some?”

His only response was the sigh that followed him down the hall. Nathaniel swallowed down the lump in his throat, unsuccessfully trying to push down his feelings with it.

This was a bad idea. He had known it was a bad idea when Luka called, he had known it was a bad idea when the invitation had left his mouth, and he had really known it was a bad idea the second he opened the door. The second he saw him again. The second he said hi and smiled at him with that goddamn smile he knew belonged to him.

This was a bad idea. They couldn’t just have lunch and hang out for a couple hours, catching up like old friends, because they weren’t friends, and no matter how many times he told himself they were, Nathaniel knew it would never be true. They weren’t friends, they were more. They were always more and they were always going to be more unless they were nothing.

He smacked the mugs down on the kitchen counter a little too hard and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Nath?” He flinched, every muscle in his body going rigid as he tried to steel himself against that achingly gentle voice. He could feel Luka’s body heat as he came to stand behind him, the familiar scent of his shampoo dragging him further into that heartbreaking comfort. “Nath, please look at me.”

“No.”

“Please—,”

“No, Luka!” His voice came out louder than he wanted it to. He ran a hand back through his hair, gripping it tight as he forced himself to take a slow, calming breath. “No, Luka,” he repeated, quieter this time. “I can’t look at you. Because when I look at you, I’m right back where I was a year ago.”

There was a pause before he asked, in a voice that was all too soft, “So what?”

“So what?” He spun, furious and hurt and no longer able to hold it in. He could see his own heartbreak mirrored in those blue eyes as they met his and it just made it that much worse. “You left, Luka.”

“I’m here now.”

“Yeah, but for how long? A week? A month?”

“I told you, we don’t have another tour planned yet.”

“Yet.” He paused, biting the inside of his lip to keep it from trembling. “Yet. You may be here for now, but you will leave again, and I can’t deal with that.”

He didn’t seem to have anything to say to that—just continued watching him with those sad blue eyes that had him breaking inside. Nathaniel moved away to fill the kettle with more water. He really couldn’t look at him like that, not when he would still do just about anything to keep sadness like that out of his eyes forever.

He had just turned the burner on when Luka spoke again. “I haven’t been seeing anyone else.” He paused, hesitant. “Have you?”

Nathaniel watched the blue flame flicker under his red tea kettle, slowly warming it up. “No.”

“And there hasn’t been a single day when I haven’t thought about you.” He paused again, and Nathaniel knew it was because he was thinking through every word slowly. That’s what he did when he had to talk; he slowed down. Checked and rechecked every sentence before letting it out, because he would say something wrong otherwise. “I wanted to call you after every concert, text you every day on the road. I kept scrolling through old conversations and…” he trailed off. He didn’t need to finish that sentence anyway; Nathaniel knew where it was going. “What about you?” he eventually asked. “Was it like that for you too?”

He sighed, pushing his fingers back through his hair again. “Yeah.”

“Then honestly, Nathaniel, I don’t get why we can’t just do long distance.” He could hear frustration bubbling up in Luka’s voice. That didn’t happen often; it took an awful lot to get him there. “Can you imagine what this year could have been like if we actually did text each other every time we wanted to? If we talked on the phone before bed every night? If we snapchatted every day, just to see each other’s faces? I missed you,” his voice cracked, and Nathaniel could feel his will following suit. “I don’t understand why we’re missing each other, miserable and alone, when instead we could be missing each other together, with the promise of being together again at the end of it.”

Luka didn’t say anything more, and neither did he. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find anything wrong with Luka’s words; all he could think was that he didn’t know how he would deal with him leaving again. Because he couldn’t go with him—he had a business, a life, here—but he also could never ask him to stay. He could never stand in the way of his dreams like that.

But Nathaniel also couldn’t deny how much just being with him for the last few hours had eased the ache he had been living with since he ended it. How even just sitting and talking and joking had made him feel ten times lighter than he had felt all year. And how he knew that Luka leaving again wouldn’t be any easier broken up.

They stood there in silence, Nathaniel’s back turned to him, until the kettle was whistling. Letting loose a heavy sigh that took an immense weight with it, he turned off the burner.

“You really don’t know when you’ll be leaving again?” he asked, getting out two new tea bags.

“No. I’m here for a few months at least. Maybe a year.”

“Where are you staying?” He poured the hot water.

“At my sister’s right now, but I’m looking for a place to rent. I can tell I’m driving Rose crazy, even if she’s too nice to say so.”

Nathaniel finally turned to face him with a deep breath. He could see those eyes searching his, a deep seated hope swimming behind them as he waited.

He held out a mug for him. “Stay here.”

Luka mindlessly took the drink while his eyes widened, a hesitant relief rising to the surface. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I miss you. I don’t care how long I have before you leave again, I want every second. And after that… You’re right. I’d rather be sad together than miserable apart.”

A slow smile spreading across his lips, Luka set the mug aside and reached out to cradle Nathaniel’s head in his hands. The feeling was all too familiar, and he didn’t know how he had ever survived without it.

Just like he didn’t know how he had ever survived without that kiss.

[the-fiction-witch]

Cute

TV SHOW: GAME OF THRONES (AU) COUPLE: JOJEN X READER RATING: SMUT

I sat in the car with my pillow and my bag of stuff as my mother drove down the long the road beside the unending feilds. The radio wizzing and humming where it was fading in and out of stations, the smell of the feilds of crops coming though the cool crisp Aircon. Until we pulled up to the large house with the infinatly long drive way where the familiar red head stood in her grey dress. "Hi!!" Sansa smiled climbing in the car with her stuff "Hi" I smiled giving her a hug which she happily returned "You excited?" She smiled "Very," I laughed as the car contained to drive off with me and Sansa chatting the whole time till atlast we got to the large green house I thanked my mother giving her a hug before we headed up to the house giving the door a little knock and the for instantly opened "Yay!!" Meera smiled giving us both hugs "this is gonna be amazing come on come in" she says letting us inside, I looked around at the green house with plants and tools everywhere, a huge conservatory to the back leading out to the garden, I saw the TV on as her father howland was still here but he was clearly getting ready to go out. And I saw her brother jojen stood in in the open kitchen he had clearly just been getting a drink but freaked and almost dropped it as he saw us all, I blushed a little seeing him he was really cute or atleast I think so. "Ahh!! There's girls here" he says in shock "I told you I was having a sleep over!" Meera argued "arent you going to see my brother tonight?" Sansa asked as jojen and bran often hang around together mostly due to there clubs at school, "No, that's next week" he says "Fine but stay in your room!" Meera warned him as she showed us up to her room.

"He's the most wonderful boy ever, he brought me flowers last time we went to the movies" sansa explained I was a little bored sat on the floor of Meera's room hugging my pillow while the girls talked about what else but boys. "So... Your going out again?" Meera asked "Of course, we're meant to be" she says "Didn't you say that about Luke three weeks ago?" I remind "And about that Peter guy last Month?" Meera reminds "And Kim the month before?" I remind "Well this time I know" she says "Well, Marcus brought me a necklace last date night" Meera smiled showing off her rather impressive necklace "I think he might be the one" "Aww that's so sweet... I want Joffery to buy me something like that" Sansa cooes "y/n we really need to find you someone so your not single anymore" "Trust me I'm fine" I said "Well what kinda boys do you like?" "Different kinda boys, I'm not into the whole football team, muscular boys I like the... Chess team boys and the library boys" I explain "What so someone like... Meera's brother?" Sansa laughed Meera laughed too but I sat with a little bit of a shrug "Why she's serious?" Meera says stopping Sansas laughs "your kidding right? So if a line of the most sexy boys ever asked for a date you'd turn them down for a chess club boy?" "I find intelligence kinda sexy, and cute" I smiled "So... Do you think my brother is cute?" "Yeah, jojens cute" "Awwwwwww I ship them so much!" Sansa laughed Luckily the conversation moved as sansa got a texted from Joffery about them maybe sneaking over Tonight luckily as they arrived I managed to sneak away as I didn't exactly wanna be around couples anyway, they wouldn't notice I was gone not while they're boys are here. I thought about going down to watch TV but I saw another door, jojens door. I listened for a moment but didn't hear much so I pushed it gently open, his room was the same size as Meera's even if his window over looked the garden, he has some plants on his windowsill and almost every surface in his room was covered with three things, books, clothes and tissues. His double bed sat in the middle of the back wall with a record player on a side table, he sat on his bed with headphones connected to the record player by a long spiral cord often moving his head along with his music while he did work in his various books and papers. "Hi" I smiled waving a little making him jump taking his headphones off "Uhh hi" he blushed "What are you listening too?" I asked Moving to stand by his bed "Uhh nothing much just some of my dad's old record collection" he says so I took the headphones from him putting the over my own ears it was some old rock stuff that my dad listened to alot and I laughed turning it off "Very cool jojen," "Not to be rude or anything but... Why exactly are you in my room?" He asked "The boys" I sighed "Oohh... Right. Guess you didn't wanna be around the making out" "Yep, so I came to see you" I smiled sitting beside him in his bed "Uhhh okay" he blushed putting his stuff down "your Uhhh your nightie Looks nice" "Awww thanks" I smile "your PJ's are cute too... What do they say on them?" "Oh uh, the shirts just last year's University challenge shirt, and the uhh the shorts aren't really shorts there just my uhh my underwear" he blushed "Ooh sorry jojen" I blushed "It's okay, I just didn't know you'd be visiting" he blushed "I was ordered to hide in my room, so... I'm hiding" "Aww that's so sweet" I smiled quickly giving his cheek a kiss, he flushed bright red looking more scared then I has ever seen him before "Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh i- I uhh I ummm" he stuttered trying to do much of anything to respond "Do you wanna hide in here together?" I  asked "we can cuddle and listen to the records?" I suggest "Uhh okay" he nodded sitting up a little more having to nervously strech over me to unplug the headphones and start the player again turning it on low enough not to disturb anyone else but loud enough so we could hear it I laid down in his bed and he carefully laid down with me. I laughed taking his hand giving it a little kiss before wrapping it around my waist, he looked even more scared so I nuzzled into his neck which helped him relax a little bit. We laid cuddled up for a while our finger tips gently exploring each other often nuzzling our heads closer to each other making little happy moaning noises "uhh y/n, can I tell you something?" He asked "Sure" I smiled "I uhh I've had a really big crush on you... For like the last ten years" "Really?" I asked Moving away and gw nodded "aww jojen I like you to" "You do!" He asked in shock "your not saying that to be nice right?" "Of course not" I laughed "Did Meera and Sansa dare you to do this?" "What no, they don't even know I'm in here" I laughed "Sorry... It just all seem a little to good to be true that's all" he blushed "How about I prove it?" I smirked he looked a little confused but I pulled him closer and kisses his sweet lips, he instantly understood what I was doing and kissed back not wanting to waste such an opportunity his hand still on my waist gently pulling me closer till I pulled back "Whoa..." "How'd I do?" I asked "Uhhh I don't really have comparison's" he blushed "Really?" I asked "Well you a lot lot better then my imagination" he blushed "You wanna do more?" "yes" he nodded very quickly "Or maybe... Did you wanna make out?" I suggest "Uhhhh okay" he nodded very nervous but very excited so I pulled him closer kissing him again moving my lips against his own which he happily copied within seconds he was hovered over me one hand behind my head and shoulders the other on my waist as I hand both of mind around his neck our kisses deep and lusty as our teenage hormones had complete control of our actions or well jojens did as I didn't have much of a say in it, as our kisses deepened more both of us often Moving our heads for better angles and moment in our kisses. I felt his hand experimentally move up a little from my waist his finger tips hovering on the bone of my bra I smiled in the kiss taking his hand and moving it so his hand made full contact with my breast, "Uuuummmm.." he groans in the kiss as he gently began fondling my boobs first just the one hand and soon enough the other hand joined in too. After a little while I moved his hands back how they where and his grip on me tightened so hardly an inch was between us, I sped up the kiss as I felt something rather hard and stiff pressing desperately to my leg "Umm jojen" I smirked as I pulled back "Ooohh my god, y/n..." He groaned desperate to kiss me again I let him the kiss starting to get very hot as I began running my hands around his fluffy blonde hair until "So that's where you snuck off to" Sansa said at jojens door with Joffery in tow we instantly pulled away putting space between us "Ooohh somebodies excited hey jojen" Joffery laughed as it was pretty obvious to everyone jojen was hard before he quickly covered himself with his blankets "A word..now" Sansa says so I got up giving jojen a kiss and going out with her as Joffery went downstairs "she's gonna kill you" "Where is she?" "In bed with her boyfriend, me and Joffery are headed downstairs, I take it you'll be fine in jojens room?" "I'll be very fine" I smiled "Okay, Don't go in Meera's room, don't come downstairs and none of us will go in there" she says handing me my stuff, I nodded before going back inside I put my stuff by his door and slipped off my bra and panties from under my nightie and as I did I noticed something he was still sat covering himself with his blankets but his eyes closed and his hand under there too "Ummm uuumm uhh y/n" he groans clearly jerking off "Jojen, you couldn't even wait for me to get back" I laughed putting my pillow on the other side of his bed and he blushed "I got desperate okay" he complained "Aww okay, wanna keep going?" I asked sitting over his thighs and he nodded little crazy "wanna feel now?" I smiled he was confused but I pulled his hands back to my boobs "Oh my god! Where uhh what happen to the bra?" "Do you really care?" "Not really no" he blushed as he fondled and groped my boobs until one of his hands slipped down to grab my butt and he realized "holy fuck that's all your wearing" "Well done jojen" I smirk he blushed but sat up slipping his shirt off and moving the blankets away leaving him naked against his bed his pale skinny body laid amungs the covers his rather tall hard cock stood begging for attention "So it's fair" he blushed "Umm jojen he's so big" I smirked kissing down his neck "but it's not really fair is it after all... I can see everything" I smirked before I went to slip my nightie off but he stopped me "Can uhh can I do it?" "Of course" I smiled and he happily took my nightie off for me his eyes looked at every inch of my naked body. And before I knew what was happening he flipped us over so my back was against the bed he sat ontop of me kissing me lustfully grabbing a condom from his bedside draw while his other hand groped my butt.

[fineline-live]

Never Be • lrh

Title: Never Be

Reader Pairing: Y/N and Luke

Rating: eh it’s fluff just bc i need some Lu fluff rn

WARNINGS: mention of panic attack, description of panic attack

Description: Luke never realized how loud he kept his guitar and microphone amps until he heard a girl humming a song about herself.

For the past 18 years I’ve looked out the same window in my room to see that tan garage, the same four boys growing up while walking in and out of it. It was my neighbor Luke’s house, his three friends having grown up hanging out with him. We were all for the most part the same age, their friend Ashton being the oldest by a year or two. The garage was Luke’s bedroom, his parents fitting it to look nicer but also withhold all the noise of the instruments he would play. Luke and I were considered best friends, having grown up together. When we were younger we’d always play outside together, and as we got older we’d settle for smaller things like a movie night or even just a video game filled sleep over. Now as we both reached the age of 18, the quiff haired boy started to become more reserved, only really ever letting one person come over anymore, and that was Michael, myself getting demoted from bestest friend to even just acquaintance.

I watched as the red haired boy pulled up in his shitty broken down truck, getting out and walked in through the garage door. I eventually just shut my curtains, irritated that I wasn’t the one getting to go over and talk to Luke about his day. It’s been months since we even had a movie night, which is rare considering we’d have one at least twice a week. I turned back to my notebook, doodling the smallest things, writing words in fancy fonts, doing anything that could get my mind off of my evergrowing loneliness. I heard Michael’s truck door slam and couldn’t help but look out the window to see him get back in his truck and drive off. He was only with Luke for a good five minutes, leaving me to wonder why he left so quick. I shrugged and went back to doodling, soon hearing the sound of an amp being loudly plugged in. It was probably just Luke setting up his guitar for something.

It was a couple minutes until I started to hear the strumming of chords. I set my pencil down and opened up my window so I could hear better, something Id always do when Luke would play something. The song he started to play didn’t sound familiar though. Usually he would play some type of cover, but I couldn’t pick out what this was. He started to sing along, his voice soft with the music. I pulled up my desk chair next to the window and just sat there for what felt like hours, Luke playing the same song over and over again, perfecting his rhythm and his tone. He eventually stopped playing, leaving me to open my eyes and collect my surroundings, having had sat for so long. I turned back and grabbed my pencil and notebook from my bed and write down what lyrics I could remember from Luke singing.

“I need your love to light up this house,

I wanna know what you’re all about,

I wanna feel you feel you(?) all night

I need to tell you that it’s alright (?) you look fine (?)

....

We’ll never be as young as we are now

It’s time to leave this old black and white town

Let’s seize the day, Let’s run away, Don’t let the colours fade to grey

We’ll never be as young as we are now

As young as we are now”

It was all I could remember, just pieces of what I thought were the words. The tune was stuck in my head though, the chorus sticking out most to me. I had finished writing down parts of it when I heard the garage door slam, Luke trudging out while looking at his phone. He looked the same as he always had. Tall, lanky, pale, quiffed blonde hair, black skinny jeans, and a pair of vans. He hasn’t changed at all in demeanor, so part of me still questioned why he pushed me away so much. I just shrugged, having already dealt with the hurt in the past, not caring enough to go through it again. I closed my window so I wouldn’t have to hear anything. There was a knock on my door, my mum opening it to reveal the sounds of chattering down the hall towards the kitchen. “Foods done.” Was all she said, shutting the door and walking back down the hall. I sighed, wondering who she invited over now, and tightened my arms around my sweater, the autumn weather causing a breeze throughout the house.

I walked down the hall, voices laughing and talking about several different subjects. While walking around the corner I peeked my head to see who was here before taking a deep breath. My feet had already carried me to far to back up, my hands beginning to shake. Liz was here with Celeste, Jack’s girlfriend, talking to my mum about something. Andy, Jack, and my father all having a conversation about a new surf line that Rip Curl came out with. And then there was Luke who just walked in, standing awkwardly in the corner, nodding along to things his dad said. That’s why he finally came out of his room. Liz was the first to notice my appearance, becoming overly excited and loud. “Y/N, sweetheart! How are you?” She walked over for a welcoming hug, squeezing me tight, Celeste doing the same after. “I’m good!”

I walked over towards Jack, giving him a tight side hug. “Hey, dude,” He laughed, hugging tighter. “Wassup, dude.” We both chuckled, Jack keeping his arm around me as they continued talking. Andy reached his hand out for a fist bump, smiling at me as my dad brought up dinner. “Dinner is done if everyone wants to grab a plate!” Everyone smiled at each other, walking to the kitchen island to get a plate. I turned back to look at Luke, a frown on his face as he watched me walk away. I gave him a half assed smile, him not even bothering to return it. I rolled my eyes and turned around, getting my plate of food and following everyone to the larger table we had for when guests were over. We all sat down, Luke ending up in the last spot which happened to be next to me, even though I talked to Jack the whole time.

When we finished eating, everyone sat around the table still talking. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through it as Luke was doing, and without realizing started to hum a tune in my head. I couldn’t figure it out so I just kept repeating it over and over, trying to remember what song it was. Luke had looked up from his phone at me, analyzing the song and his eyes going wide when he heard it. I noticed my phone was about to die, so I got up and walked towards my room to plug it in. As I was plugging in my phone, I didn’t notice Luke walk in behind me until I heard him close my door. “Jesus, Luke.” I held my hand to my chest to try to steady my breathing. “How do you know that song?” His voice was low, almost terrified. I set my phone down on the windowsill and shrugged. “Calm down, mate. You play it all the time.”

His eyes went wider if possible. “You hear me play it?” I nodded my head, not getting why he was so worked up over this. “D-Do you know the words to it?” I shrugged again. “Some of them. It’s kinda hard to hear you through the garage walls, but I can pick some of the words out.” His hands flew to his face, covering it and sitting on the edge of my bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This cannot be happening.” I looked at him confused, wondering what he was so upset over. “What?” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes and taking deep breaths. “You can’t fucking walk in here and make a big deal over a fucking song when you don’t talk to me for five months, Luke. That’s not how this works.” I crossed my arms against my chest as he slipped himself down to the floor from the bed. His shoulders started heaving, and his hands kept rubbing at his eyes and covering his face. From all the years I knew Luke, I knew what the symptoms were.

I crawled down to my knees, making my way over to his shaking body. He made gasps for air as he rubbed his eyes, trying to get out of the headspace he was in. “You’re okay, Luke. You’re okay. I’m right here, I promise.” I knew unless Luke initiated it, touching him would only make it worse, so I kept my hands to myself. I kept talking to him softly. “Lu, breathe, love. You’re okay.” One of his hands left his face, reaching out to grab one of mine, trying to tell me he needed me close. I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arm around him and trailing my hand up and down his back. I rubbed softly as he tried to call himself down, his breathing still erratic. “Let’s count, Lu. Up to five and then we’ll hold our breath for five more seconds. Can you do that?” I started counting, having to restart every few seconds due to Luke not being able to gain any composure. I knew I’d have to be patient with him, so I just kept starting over, giving him any opportunity to join. His breathing started to slow, choked words finding their way out. “O-One, two, three, f-four, five.” He held his breath, counting to five again. We repeated the process together a few more times until Luke could fully regain his breathing, his face not as red as he was. I pulled him into me, continuing to rub his back, his shoulders shaking every once in awhile from a staggered breath.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” I asked softly. He took another deep breath, nuzzling his face further into my neck. “The songs called Never Be.” I nodded my head, waiting to hear what else he has to say. “I-It’s about, about loving someone and being stuck in a small sh-shitty ass town like th-this.” I rubbed his back softer, leaning my head against his. “Did you write it for someone?” His breath choked in his throat, his body starting to shake. “I cant tell you that.” “That’s okay! It’s okay, Lu. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.” I whispered. He took a shaky breath, exhaling against my neck. “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you who it’s about. Especially after how I’ve treated them lately.” My mind started to race, thinking of anyone it could be about. He hasn’t had any girls over in the last couple of months, so I was left confused. “Try me,” I offered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. I craned my neck and looked down at him. “For what?” He shook his head with a sad smile. “For just going MIA on you. Just fucking leaving you to fend for yourself. For not being there for you. For being a shitty best friend. Fuck, I’m probably not even your friend anymore after how I treated you.” I sat against my bed on the floor, with Luke leaning against me. My hand rubbing his back, and the other one reaching down and fidgeting with his fingers. “Was it about me?” His breathing got warmer against my neck, his body trying to pull away. “M’ sorry. I shouldn’t have written it.” I pulled him back to look at me, our fingers still awkwardly intertwined. “You said it’s about loving someone? And being stuck in a shitty town?” He nodded his head, staring down at our fingers.

“I got scared,” he whispered. “I knew that if I told you how I was feeling that you’d probably just laugh and tell me to fuck off and stop joking. I tried to push the feelings away, and I figured if I pushed you away, they would go with, and they didn’t, and I fucking cried myself to sleep for the last five months because you’re over here living your live and I’m so in love with you that I start to panic and can’t think straight. And I just got so scared. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in love.”

Tears sat in my eyes, tears of confusion, and being overwhelmed, and being in love. I grabbed Luke’s hand tighter, interlocking our fingers for good. He started to ramble again repeating all of his earlier words. “Shut the fuck up, Lu,” I laughed softly. He looked at me confused, wondering what he said wrong. I smiled at him. “The more you talk, the less of a chance I have to kiss you.” His eyes went wide, a blush creeping onto his face as I softly pulled his face in towards mine. His lips were soft and warm, and they felt like something that I didn’t wanna let go of. “So what does this mean?” Luke asked pulling away gently. Our foreheads sat together, our noses bumping, our breaths mixing. I couldn’t help but lean in for another small kiss. When I pulled away I smiled, a small giggle escaping my lips.

“It means pack your shit and get your keys because we’re leaving this shitty ass town.”

[princess-of-purgatory-and-bass]

ShapeShifter

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted an update to this story, but I lost inspiration for a while until certain events recently re-inspired me. And as always, I’m tagging @macherie02 as she is on my automatic tag list (though she is now on my Quotev and could see it there)

This is the part three of the ShapeShifter series

Big Cat (Part 1 smut)

Bloody Night (part 2)

Attempting Casual

Nina made her way through the halls of her house, phone in hand while on a call. Thanks to social media, the leopard girl was always able to keep up with her friends that lived out of state, or even out of country, and she currently was video calling with a friend she had known a couple years by this point. Abigail was a only a few years younger than Nina was, them being closer to each other in age than Nina was to her own mate, and the two were actually quite close in talking most days to each other. "I can't believe Lincoln would hurt you like that Nina. That's so unlike him," Abigail commented to the dark haired girl, currently putting her hair up into a bun. She wanted to keep it out of her face while she was drawing, sketchbook in her lap with a quote on the back of the previous page that inspired the drawing. "Do you know what might have triggered it?"

"I mean, I have an idea. Normally Kendall either already has lost or accidentally shape shifts by that point in their fighting which ends the match. But last night he never shifted, never lost control, and he was putting up one hell of a fight. Suddenly the fight was more of a challenge, and Lincoln probably just panicked. And it's not like Lincoln has really been shown anything about his inherited strength or anything like that. Ryan has been around recently for him, but she can only teach so much in such a short amount of time, ya know? He can't control his own instinct and strength yet," Nina told her, making her way to the living room and sitting on the couch. It was quite uncomfortable against the scratches, but there wasn't really anything she could do about that for now.

"I guess that's true. It's been the three of them for quite a long time. So how has everyone been since then? Are things okay now?" Abigail asked her, concerned about how things were holding together.

"Well Bailey doesn't live here, so he hasn't even been told about the fight yet. And Ryan has been staying close to Lincoln, watching over him for now. Poor kid is beating himself up about what happened. I've tried talking to him and letting him know I'll be okay and all that, but that's all still some pretty tough shit to have on your conscience. Then there's Kendall. He could barely move out of bed this morning from just how sore he was and you can tell he's pretty hung up about what happened. I can't blame him really, I just wish I could take all the pain away," the leopard girl admitted to her friend, thinking back to that morning.

"Where is everyone anyway? I don't think I've ever heard your house be so empty," Abigail pointed out.

"Lincoln's asleep. Or maybe at Bailey's. I haven't looked in his room since before I went to bed, so he may have left just before sunrise honestly. Ryan left for our shop before the sun came up to cover my shift since she doesn't want me straining myself. Kendall wanted to go for a run," Nina informed her.

"Didn't you say he was so sore he could barely move this morning? And he decided to go for a run despite that? Dude's more determined than I am when it comes to that," Abigail mused, her curly blonde hair falling out of the bun it was tied into where her side bangs were too short to reach.

"I think he wants some alone time to think about and process last night. Either way my roommates have me trapped here on bed rest because they're afraid I'll break my stitches or something like that. I'm gonna lose my mind if I don't get out of this house soon," the leopard girl rolled her eyes.

"It's been one day. And it's because they are taking care of you Nina," the younger girl reminded her.

"I know I know. But I'm so bored. I'm not even hurt that bad anyway. This is just overkill," the older of the two commented.

In the background, Nina could hear where the front door suddenly opened. "He shouldn't be back yet. He's never back this early when he goes for a run," she mumbled to herself before getting up to see who was walking in the door. The man that stood there, taking off a light jacket, was quite a bit taller than her with shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes, and he was a pale tan like his oldest brother, causing their middle brother to stand out a bit with his white skin. Nina set her phone down on the window sill by the doorway, opening her arms to hug him. "Hey there Nina. Are Lincoln and Kendall here?" He greeted her, hugging her close to him before they both pulled away.

"I think Lincoln's asleep right now, and Kendall will be back in a little bit. He went for a run to work through everything on his mind right now," Nina told her soon to be older brother, grabbing her phone off of the windowsill and showing him the screen. "Abigail is here though."

"Hey Bailey," Abigail smiled as she looked up from her drawing, waving to him eagerly. "How's the girlfriend?"

"Hey Abby, Miranda's doing well. Thanks for asking," the youngest of the three brothers smiled back to the girl before looking at Nina. "Is everything okay? Did something happen with Kendall?"

"Last night Lincoln and Kendall were messing around like you guys do and Lincoln lost control. He almost hurt Kendall pretty badly last night and we had to pull him off of Kendall. Lincoln accidentally scratched up my back pretty badly when we separated them and I had to get stitches. That's why I'm home and not at work right now," Nina informed him.

Bailey winced at the story. "Yikes. Are you guys all okay though? Like besides the stitches I mean?" Nina hummed softly for a moment, trying to figure out what to even say to that question. In the end, all she could do was sigh and shake her head in response. "They're both really upset about the whole thing honestly. Lincoln hates himself for losing control and hurting me, Kendall is still working through how he feels and is barely speaking to Lincoln if he doesn't have to. I'm trying my best to help them but there's not really much I can do about this."

"I'll let you guys go to let you talk," Abigail commented once Nina finished, ending the call.

"I'm sure they'll get through this Nina. They'll just take some time to figure things out and work through things. Maybe they'll write some songs about it or find some other way to get through it," Bailey assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before kicking the front door closed.

"Yeah, you're right. I still wish I could take this pain from them though. I want them to be their usual happy selves right now," Nina admitted, crossing her arms over her chest before moving to walk into the living room and out of the entry way. "You want something to eat? I'm kinda stuck in here with nothing to do."

"No I ate not too long ago, but thank you. I could use some chocolate milk though if you have it," the hazel eyed boy answered her. He was the quiet one of the three of them, preferring to sit and draw or write or express himself through artistic means. A stark contrast to his oldest brother. And he was a bit more shy in a way, so while the stockiest of the three of them, he typically slouched and almost made himself look smaller subconsciously. It was rather adorable to Nina, and it caused her to see him as a younger brother or adopted child despite him being three years older than her.

Nina went into the kitchen, getting out some chocolate milk from her fridge that she always kept for him. She knew it was his favourite, so it was something she always kept around for him in case he showed up at any point. Every now and again he would stay the night in Lincoln's room or would just show up and crash on the couch some mornings since he had been given a key, so she made sure he had his favourite food and drinks while he was there. She brought the container out to him and handed it over, not really caring if he used a glass or not since he was the only one that typically drank it. "So how have you been Bailey? Have you been able to relax much since getting home?"

"A bit. Miranda has been really helping me settle back into a casual schedule since tour ended. Still can't wait until we get to be on the road again," Bailey admitted to her.

"Yeah, Kendall has been chomping at the bit to get back on the road again too. I have to keep giving him errands to run and things to do while I'm at work even though you guys just got home. But it's still better than not getting to see him at all," Nina commented, sitting next to her future brother on the couch.

"He's just not the type to sit still. You've known that since before you even really met each other though. You commented on it the first time you were around each other, mentioning how you don't really sit still either," he pointed out to her, taking a swig of the chocolate milk.

"That's true. And I really wouldn't want it any other way. It's actually kinda cute to watch him when he gets antsy. Especially when he gets that nervous smile and how his voice gets a bit higher when he's excited or embarrassed." Nina smiled off a bit as she thought about her fiance, getting lost in thought for a moment about him.

"Will you two just get married already. You drive me crazy with all this cute shit," Bailey commented to her.

"We're trying. A wedding takes time to plan though, and we've only been engaged all of two days," she snorted, rolling her eyes at the commentary.

"Wait he finally asked you? No shit! I thought it would take a lot longer for him to finally do it," Bailey grinned to her. "Did he get you a ring?"

Nina held her left hand out to him, letting him see the ring that Kendall had gotten for her. A thin silver band with three stones on it, a purple gem with diamonds on either side of it. Bailey used both hands to hold the edges of her left hand, tilting it to get a good view of the ring. "Wow, this is actually really nice. Did you guys talk about it at all before he asked or was it just kinda spur of the moment?" He asked her, placing her hand down in her lap and smiling to her. She just shrugged in response. "I mean, we did a little bit. Just kinda talk in the quiet moments about what our life would be like together as husband and wife. We talked more about maybe trying for kids but we decided to get married first before having a baby, or at least be able to say we're engaged rather than just dating ya know?"

"That's really fucking cute. Has it been hard not to just go around and telling everyone that you got engaged?" Now Bailey was being a bit teasing again, a cheeky smirk on his tan face.

"It's not that we're keeping it a secret. We've just been a bit busy to really make it public yet. He proposed the other night when we were about to shower before bed and then I had work and then the fight between him and Lincoln happened. It's been a pretty busy couple of days," Nina rolled her eyes as him.

"You guys even shower together? Seriously do you guys leave each other's side at all?" Bailey raised his brows a bit and snorted near the end.

"We don't normally shower together. We were having a romantic evening and he followed me to the shower afterwards. That isn't an occurrence for the average day. Don't get your underwear so twisted up so quickly," Nina answered him, unable to hide how amused the comment still made her.

"Who's getting their underwear twisted?" A new voice now joined the conversation, causing the two to look up in the direction of the new speaker. Lincoln was awake and had decided to come downstairs for something to eat. He caught the end of what Nina had said and just had to figure out what they could be talking about for that comment to be made.

"Your little brother is over the idea of Kendall and I showering together once," Nina filled him in. "Good morning by the way. I can make you something for breakfast if you want."

"Nah, I'll make it. You don't have to make me breakfast. And maybe he wouldn't be so bothered by you two showering together if you didn't do things like have sex with each other in the middle of the woods at night," Lincoln crossed his arms, leaning his hip against a nearby wall that had a good view of his two younger siblings on the couch.

"You guys did what now? That's so gross! There are bugs!" Bailey playfully turned his nose up to her, grinning a bit.

"Listen, we don't exactly plan these things. We were out there and then the mood just hit. You honest to gods can not tell me you never had sex with someone in a weird place like that before. You aren't living if you haven't tried just taking your lover wherever you are when the mood hits," she tried to defend herself, though it seemed she was more digging a deeper hole for herself by this point.

Before either brother could respond to the comment just made by their sister-in-law, the door opened and closed once again, Kendall walking through the door and looking into the living room. Waiting for him there was his middle brother leaning against the wall looking quite amused, his youngest brother on the couch holding chocolate milk looking slightly mortified but wanting to laugh, and his fiance looking embarrassed yet determined. Kendall himself gave a rather confused look over what the conversation could have possibly been to have him walk in to that set up, but he also briefly wondered if he even wanted to know the answer to that question. "Do I even want to know what you guys are talking about right now?"

"We're judging you for fucking Nina in the woods," Lincoln filled him in. "And Nina is trying to say how you aren't living if you have never just, how did she phrase it?, just taken your lover wherever the mood hits."

Nina threw a couch pillow at Lincoln, the vampire boy just laughing as he let it hit him. Bailey could only laugh at the two of them before looking over at his oldest brother, noticing how he was holding his temples to hide the slight red tint that had now spread across his face. "Ya know what? I need a shower. A shower sounds really good right now," the oldest in the room commented, beginning to walk towards the bathroom by the room he shared with his fiance. "Aren't you going to take your shower buddy with you? From the sound of it, you're used to not showering alone," Bailey called out after him.

"I don't know Bailes, are you sure you wanna hear them going at it since they prefer it whenever the mood hits?" Lincoln playfully reminded his little brother, Nina now going a shade of red at their commentary.

"Actually, ya know what, Nina can you come with me? I wanna check your stitches." The room went still once Kendall said that, Lincoln losing his smile and looking off to the floor while Bailey went wide eyed. Despite the warning, the youngest brother was not prepared to hear how cold Kendall sounded when he mentioned the stitches Nina had.

The woman in question looked mildly horrified to have heard the last part come out of Kendall's mouth, her grey eyes wide as Bailey's hazel. Slowly she got up from the couch, walking over towards her fiance. As she passed by Lincoln, she placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent reassurance that was all she could manage in the moment. Kendall took her hand once she caught up to him, guiding her to the bathroom and closing the door while she got up on the counter. She took off her shirt then faced away from him, her eyes downcast to the surface she was sitting on rather than catch his eyes through the mirror. She felt gentle fingers run down her back before undoing the bandage that covered the stitched together scratches. Slow, small kisses crossed her shoulders until hazel eyes looked over what was now uncovered. Once reassured they were healing properly, Kendall looked into the mirror and tried to catch her eyes. Quickly he realized, though, that she wasn't going to meet his eyes. "Nina? What's wrong?"

"Did you really have to say that? Things were finally going well, we were finally getting Lincoln back to himself, did you have to remind him? Make him hate himself all over again?" Nina asked him, keeping her eyes low but turning around now to at least be facing him.

"They were making fun of us, it was bothering you," Kendall tried to explain to her.

"Sibling teasing and making someone hate themselves over something they're still fragile about are two totally different things though Ken," now there eyes met, the intensity of grey irises causing hazel to want to shift away now. "You took it too far with that uncalled for reminder, and you could really hurt him like that."

Kendall swallowed his breath before he could respond, letting her words sink in. She was right, he knew she was. He didn't want to admit it, but she was absolutely right this time. "I'm sorry. You're right, that was just me being angry. I shouldn't have done that." Her eyes softened towards him now, taking his hand and giving it a light squeeze. Softly his forehead rested against hers, their eyes both closing for a moment while she simply just held his hand. "You know I'm not the one who needs to know you're wrong. You know it's your little brother who needs you the most here."

All he could do is nod, leaning against the counter so as to make himself smaller before pulling away to instead rest his head on her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him as she kissed his temple and let him rest there for a moment. His skin was still a bit warm from being out on a run in the hot sun, especially against her normally cold skin. Despite the conversation they had been having, they were rather relaxed together. Just holding each other as the seconds ticked by slowly. "There's just one thing I think I wanna know before we get to anything else though. How do you always seem to feel like you're freeing no matter where we are?"

"Honestly I have no idea. You're like my own personal heater, though, so I just got lucky that you keep me from freezing," Nina playfully responded to him, finally letting go of him now.

"I'm always glad to warm you up whenever you need," Kendall pulled away as well, winking at her at the end of his comment.

"You're just as bad as your brothers, ya know," Nina rolled her eyes at him, kissing his cheek. "Shouldn't you be getting in the shower right now anyway? You smell horrible."

Kendall laughed for a moment before going to softly peck her lips, holding her chin before pulling away. His free hand ran along where her collar rested, the black strip of leather holding a guitar pick shaped tag with his name on it. Then his hand found a gold chain that she typically kept hidden under her shirt. The only thing gold that she would wear, normally preferring silver. Yet this chain, like her collar, she never took off if she could help it. The gold chain had an actual guitar pick on it, Lincoln's name in black across the white plastic, and he ran it between his fingers for a moment before kissing her cheek. "So when are you going to admit you have a crush on him by the way? And that's why you haven't taken off the necklace he gave you?"

"What do you mean? I'm in love with you Kendall," Nina questioned, a pit beginning to form at his question.

"Nina, I know that. But I also know you were raised around open relationships and pack bonding life styles," Kendall pointed out to her. "You don't have to hide it. Bailey you treat like a brother, but Lincoln? I can tell you see him a bit differently. That you want to love him too."

Nina sighed and looked away, biting her lip for a moment while she thought of what to say next. "I didn't mean to fall for him. But he makes me feel safe, like I can trust him. And honestly I'm a bit curious. But I would never in a million life times be able to get myself to stop loving you enough to leave you for him." Kendall let go of the chain now to stroke her hair, kissing the top of her head. When she looked back up at him, there was almost amusement in his eyes. "I know Nina, I know. And honestly, right now I'm still not really pleased with him from how he hurt you. How you're saying he makes you feel safe after he caused your current stitches I'll never get. But, I'm also not saying that you have to choose between me and him. I know I'm your primary partner, I'll always be your soulmate, but if you want to try having a secondary partner to see if that works for you, then maybe start the conversation."

"You're way too good for me, you know that?" Nina commented, kissing his cheek.

"Nah, I think I am more exactly what you need," Kendall told her before going to hold her close. "And tonight, we can both sit down with Lincoln and just start the conversation. talking won't hurt, it'll just clear the air." Quietly, Nina nodded in agreement.

"Now will you shower?" She jokingly asked him, pulling out of the embrace they were in. "Yeah, now I'm showering."

[believethaticanandiwill]

Eight Months

He knows he put a lot of work in for this big promotion a few months ago, and he sure is glad he got it. It’s not necessarily the pay that makes the job worthwhile; its more the free weekends he gets to spend with Rae, the little trips away that he can take her on, and the artists he gets to meet. What he isn’t so happy about, is the amount of late nights he’s been pulling. He’s sure that Mike hadn’t had to pull as many late nights in his whole redency, as he has in the last five months. It worries him more that Rae is pregnant, by a long eight months (he’s so close to holding his newborn baby girl. He can’t contain his excitement, he wonders what she’ll smell like, weird he knows, but every new born has a smell, and he can’t wait to find out if she smells like Rae’s vanilla), he worries that Rae isn’t resting enough, he worries that she goes into Labour while she’s sleeping and nobody is around to help. More than anything else though, he worries that Rae is sat up unable to rest because she’s too busy worrying that she isn’t going to be a good enough mother.

They’ve only ever spoken about it once; just after her 12-week scan. They’d seen their baby, and listened to her healthy heartbeat, they’d even asked for a few minutes alone while they both cried happy tears, or so he thought. But Rae had been quiet on their journey home, and when he reached over the gears for her hand, she’d blurted it out like word vomit.

“What if our baby is born just like me? What if our baby picks up my behaviours and then ends up mad like me? What if my Craziness is too much and I don’t get to bond Finn? I can’t do this. I’ll fuck this up like I’ve fucked up most things I’ve ever tried at”

 He let a tear fall at this, luckily they were only round the corner from their home, and once he was parked he was able to give her all his attention. He’d kept his reply simple and to the point

 “You already love our baby Rae, otherwise you wouldn’t be this worried. And as for our baby turning out like you, then we’d be the luckiest parents alive. You amaze me every single day, I fall in love with you more each day.”

 More tears fall, but she smiles softly and Finn thinks maybe he’s finally got it right this time. They make their way into their home, and sit and cuddle on the couch, where after a while Rae confesses that she hasn’t been able to sleep much, and that she’s been so concerned she’s doing something wrong throughout pregnancy. After reassuring her that she’s perfect, he goes and makes her a bur in her favourite mug, and brings down the duvet that she likes. They spend the rest of the day cuddling on the couch and when Rae wakes up after a five-hour sleep, she’s a much happier version of herself. He can’t help but bring up her worrying over not bonding with their baby. He explains that it’s nothing to be ashamed of; lots of new mums have experiences with post-natal depression. That if she does end up experiencing it, that it doesn’t make her any less of a mum, and that they will get through it together. She snuggles into his chest, and tells him how much she loves him.

 He’s nearly home now, he picked up his speed while he thought about Rae’s doubts, he wants to be with her all the time. He wonders what this weekend will have in store for them; maybe he could finally lay out the nursery to the layout they had first tried. He knows they’ve got a pile of baby clothes to finish washing before she arrives, maybe this weekend will be the perfect time. He thinks about taking Rae on a late night drive down London for her to see the winter lights. She’ll never admit it, but he knows how much Christmas lights and festivities make her happy and relax her, and while Christmas is another four weeks off, London’s winter wonderland is in full swing. When he gets to his front gate, he notices the living room light is on, he looks at his watch and sees that its twelve thirty-seven in the morning, he wonders maybe she left the light on for him. He quietly unlocks the front door before locking it just as quietly behind him. He takes off his winter boots and unzips his winter coat, before making his way further into the house. He’s freezing without his coat on and he wonders why Rae hasn’t had the heating on. He nudges the living room door open with his hip making his way into the front room and as he goes to place his work bag down on the chair, he notices Rae, buried under a duvet, with every pillow they own around her for support, she’s sat upright, and his neck twinges, the way her head is hanging. Under her eyes look slightly purple and they’re puffy beyond belief, she must be knackered, he begins to think that maybe booking her in at the local spa this weekend would be a better idea than a drive down London. He creeps his way over to her, placing the lightest of kisses to her forehead, and ever so gently pushing her hair behind her ear, but it his tenderness is pointless.

 She jolts awake a look of panic on her face until she realises its just him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you girl. How you feeling? Do you need anything?” Finn whispers, hoping to maintain the relaxed atmosphere, she had going on.

She just smiles and pulls him down to sit next to her. He can’t help but cuddle her.  He notices that she’s breathing deeply; he can’t help but feel guilty, that she’s experiencing all this pain and un-comfortableness, and all he gets is to look forward to the arrival of their little girl. They sit in silence for a while, Finn playing with her hair before she asks him to make her a bru. He kisses her on her head before making his way into the kitchen.

 He realises that their kitchen isn’t as tidy as it was this morning when he left. No there are laundry detergents and cleaning products out. He switches the kettle on and makes his way back through to the living room, where he tells Rae,

“be back down in a sec, just going to get out my work clothes.”

All she does is nod. As he’s walking up their stairs he smells that the upstairs has had a deep clean. He and Rae used to joke about the smell of bleach being the sign of their parents having a day off in each of their houses. Firstly walking past the bathroom he spots that it has undergone a deep clean, the lights been left on, a usual sign if he’s honest, Rae really hates being in the house on her own at night recently. He shuts the bathroom door and makes his way down to their bedroom, it’s a lot tidier than it was this morning, but the bed sheets haven’t been changed. He quickly changes before making his way back out their room, the nursery door catches his eye and he wonders over. The door is pulled to but not shut, and the lights are one. He pushes the door open and the room looks as if a bomb has gone off. Their baby girls clothes are all over the floor in piles, under the windowsill is Rae’s hospital bag, that has been packed and ready for the last three weeks, but not right now, right now it’s contents are all over the floor around it. He sighs, he’s not sure how to bring this up with her this late a night, but he can’t leave it, not when he knows she is struggling this much.

 Making his way back down to deliver Rae her Tea, he spies on her while he walks through their front room. She looks more chilled now than she did when he first arrived home, she’s no longer sat up but instead is lay down. When he reaches the kitchen he flips the kettle back on to re-boil and sets himself busy with the task of preparing Rae’s tea. Once their drinks are ready he wonders back through, turning the kitchen lights off as he goes. The sound of Rae’s cup colliding with the table rouses her from her snooze and she starts to sit up, before Finn tells her its fine. Rae shakes her head no before asking him to sit with her. Of course he obliges, pulling her to lean on his chest. He hands her her tea, which she takes with a smile, and Finn thinks to himself, it’s now or never.

“Have you spent the day cleaning Girl? The smell of bleach up the stairs is potent to say the least” he smiles, and hopes she can pick up the jest in his voice.

 “Yeah, I can’t remember the last time the bathroom had a good clean, and I really wanted a bath, but I just got carried away in there.” she replies, he can tell she’s not being entirely honest, her body is stiff.

 “Wasn’t just the bathroom by the looks of it, our room and the nursery has had a going over to.” He waits for her reply, but it doesn’t come. She’s quiet, like she’s done something wrong. He can’t see her face with the way they’re sitting; he can read her facial expressions, which usually give him a clue as to how she is feeling. He wonders how to move on from this chat, to really get to the important stuff and that’s when he feels the tears dropping onto his arm.

 “Rae. Babe, I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s okay that your cleaning. I thought it was pretty normal; it’s in all the baby books I’ve been reading, although it’s referred to as nesting. The cleaning doesn’t bother me. What happened in babies room Rae? It looks as if somebody’s been in and trashed it.” she sobs harder at this, he pulls her into his chest tighter hoping that her breathing will completely even out, it takes some time, but he hears her counting to 10. Something he hasn’t heard her do for a good few years now. After her eighth go, she relaxes. She takes a sip of her tea before vocalising her worries.

 “I’ll clean it, I didn’t mean for it to end up in a mess like that, I went in to get some of her clothes to wash, and while I was filling the washing basket, I noticed the hospital bag. I dunno what’s got into me but I can’t stop freaking out about missing something. I know we packed that bag together but I just feel like there is something important missing. I was piling it all to re-pack and check off the list as I went, when I needed a wee. And as I stood, I got this sharp pain and I slipped and knocked my piles over.” She stops and breathes, before taking another mouthful of tea before launching back into her explanation. “I was so mad that everything I’d folded and neatly piled had got mixed up, that as I walked to the toilet, I kicked the washing basket over. I don’t know why I’m so angry, I’m just so uncomfortable and my hormones are driving me wild.  I can’t sleep, and when I can’t sleep my old behaviour starts creeping back in. You know I’ve been turning the light switches on and off again. I did intend to go back in an tidy, but then as if I wasn’t already having a right time of it, I hit my hip of the bathroom door knob, and I’ve been in a bit of pain ever since.”

 At this Finn pushes Rae off him before standing, and pulling her up too. She stares at him bewildered by his behaviour, but he carries on, he lifts her night shirt up over her bump and looks at her hips, and that’s where he sees the angry bruise on her right side. “Christ girl that must have been some bang. Do you want to go get checked over?” she shakes her head no. He runs his fingertips softly over the bruise before bending to kiss it, and before her makes his way up he drops a few kisses onto her bump. He pulls Rae’s nightdress back down before kissing her softly. “How long have you really been struggling for? You can tell me things you know, no matter how daft you think they are.”

 Rae nods and explains that she knows. He sits them both back down while they finish their drinks in quiet. Rae yawns and Finn rubs her lower back. Once their teas have been drank, Finn is pulling Rae back up, this time up the stairs, to their bedroom where he sits her, and kisses her head before disappearing. A few seconds later, Rae can hear the bath running and a minute later she can smell lavender. Once the bath stops running Finn is back in the bedroom collecting Rae, he walks her into the dimly lit bathroom, and helps her undress. “I’ll be back in a little while. Call me if you need me okay? I’m just going to sort through a few things.” he says as he helps lower her into the bath. She sighs with content once she’s sunk in. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth of the water, the scent, or the candles, either way he’s happy she can relax.

 His first stop on his mission is their bedroom. Quickly walking over to their wardrobe, he pulls out the bottom draw for fresh sheets. Clearly she hadn’t changed the bed sheets while she was cleaning before as it would be to difficult considering how late on she is with the pregnancy. He tears the old bedding off and makes work of the new, not forgetting to spray both the pillows and the duvet with Rae’s Deep Sleep pillow spay he’d gotten her. She loved the smell of lavender and the first night she’d used it, was the first night in three months, she had slept through.  Carrying their old bed sheets out the room he makes his way to the nursery. He understands now that she hadn’t gone in with the intention of causing such a mess, and it does relax him slightly, however he still is deeply unsettled that she is worrying so much. Non the less, he knows he needs to step it up a little, he makes his way over the biggest pile of baby clothes next to the draws. The second draw down is slightly open and the washing basket is already full. Lifting the washing basket up onto the top of the draws he sees that the clothes in there have already been washed and dried. He pulls open the very to draw and believe it or not, there is nothing in there. All the clothes that belong to that draw have been washed already. ‘She’s really been busy tonight’ he thinks. He works quickly putting their little girls pre-washed clothes into the top draw before loading the now empty washing basket full of the clothes from the pile on the floor. Then he makes his way over to the window, where the hospital bag has been unpacked. He pulls the list over to himself and packs it from top to bottom. Rae was right there was something missing, for they have both missed out her Pyjamas. He quickly wonders back to their room and pulls the bag, which has Rae’s hospital Pyjamas, they brought not to long ago, before going back to the nursery and placing them in the bag to. Once everything looks straight in there he picks up the basket and the hospital bag, flicks the light off and closes the door.

 Walking past the bathroom, he sticks his head around the door to check on Rae, He’s not sure if she has dosed off again, or if she’s that relaxed at the minute she’s as still as she would be if she was sleeping, but he decides against disturbing her. He makes his way down the stairs and leaves the hospital bag at the front door near his shoes, before making his way back through the living room to the kitchen. His first duty here is to fill the washer with the baby clothes. Once they’re in and its started spinning, he starts to put away the cleaning products Rae had been using. He flips the kettle on and starts preparing her a Camomile tea, and pulls a bottle of iced water from the freezer. She had taken to drinking in the night, and with her being warm, iced water helps cool her. He runs into the living room and quickly tidies, putting the cushions back where they belong, and folding the blanket she had been using back over the couch. He takes the two cups from earlier and washes them. Satisfied everything is done for the night, he takes the two drinks upstairs, and places her water next to her side on the bed, before grabbing her a fresh towel and some clean pyjarmas

 Once he’s satisfied that the fresh bedding should keep her slightly relaxed, he makes his was to her, pushing through the bathroom door he notices she’s now sat forward.

“Rae, what’s wrong?” he questions as he rushes over, placing her tea on the side of the bath. She looks over her shoulder at him before smiling with a slight wince, “Nothing, just got a spasm in my lower back is all. It’s easing up now. Is that tea for me?”

Finn shows her a bashful smile, “of course girl, thought you could give camomile a go tonight. See if that helps with you sleeping.”

Rae smiles before picking up the cup and leaning back and enjoying the tea. Once she has drunk it, she hands Finn the cup, before asking if he can help her out. Finn kisses her head before pulling the plug. As the water is running down the drain, he prepares her towel and pyjamas, before deciding that helping her dress in the bathroom doesn’t make much sense. He helps her stand and wraps her towel around her. Stopping to give her a kiss on her lips.

“Wrap your arms around my neck girl.” he directs as he lifts her in his arms and carries her through to their room. Placing her on the edge of their bed he backtracks to the bathroom to gather her Pyjamas. When he reaches Rae again, he finds her naked. ‘She’s so beautiful, I love her so much.’ he thinks.

“Stop staring it freaks me out” Rae giggles, Finn giggles to before stopping and telling her his train of thought.

“I can’t stop staring, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful person I’ve ever saw.” she blushes and grabs her pyjarmas off him before telling him she doesn’t think she’ll wear any tonight. “The most beautiful person, who’s trying to kill me while she sleeps next to me naked.” he corrects himself. He pulls back the covers and motions for her to get in. Once she’s layback he covers her and tells her he’ll be back he’s just going to brush his teeth. He switches the light off while he’s on his way out, and kicks the switch on with his toe. He hears her faint sigh.

He washes up and makes his way back to their room, which is now only lit by the dozens of fairy lights across the far wall of their room. When they had finally had their mortgage accepted, Rae had gone out and brought as many of the things she could find, telling Finn she had wanted them ever since he had decorated his room with them for her one night. He removes his joggers at the foot of the bed before crawling in next to her. Before he’s even settled Rae is cuddling up to him, her head on his chest.

“Thanks for changing the sheets, and the bath and for the lights, it’s so relaxing, I don’t think I can stay awake any longer, especially with you using the spray.” she lays a kiss on his chest before snuggling down. “Night girl. Love you.” he replies after laying kiss after kiss on her head. He thinks she replies ‘love you too’ but she’s that far off in dreamland he can’t be sure.

 Its 4:32am when he starts to come too. The angry green numbers on their alarm clock disturbing his slumber, he feels across the bed for her but comes up empty handed. Sitting up to look around he rubs his eye with his right hand. “Rae” he calls but there’s no answer.

Getting out of bed he walks to the landing, the lights are out bar one coming from the nursery. He makes his way over, and finds her sat on the floor. Her shoulders, softly shaking as she cries.

“Babe, couldn’t sleep?” he questions as he sits behind her pulling her back into his chest. She nods. “Its all right girl, how do you feel about a little drive then?” she doesn’t reply just sniffs.

“You tided my mess up? I would have done it Finn, you already did so much. I’m sorry I’m so emotional lately.”

“Its no trouble Rae, I’m pretty sure you’ve spent the last eight years tidying after me.” He’s glad when she chuckles.  “I can’t sleep, it’s driving me mad. I just can’t seem to think what I’ve left out of the hospital bag. Talking of where have you put it?”  

“Shit Rae I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. Your Pyjamas were missing. They’re packed and it’s at the front door for when the time comes.” she’s full on laughing now, surprised that its actually something minor that has caused her this amount of insomnia.

“Fucking figures”, she replies, Finn thinks she wants to say more but before she can she’s wincing again.

“Is it your back?” he questions and all she can do is nod. “Come on then girl back to bed.” Helping her up they make their way back to bed. Where once again Rae snuggles into him. He can’t be sure who falls asleep first this time.

 He’d woken around 8am to Rae wriggling around in her sleep, he’d loosened himself from her and gone and got the hot water bottle for her. She had woken enough to take it off him and thank him, before snuggling into him once more and falling into a deep slumber again. Finn couldn’t sleep knowing she was so uncomfortable, so he took to taking little naps in-between waking to check on her. After a few hours of dosing, when Rae hadn’t moved for a while, he thought he’d maybe try and get another hour of so in. He’s not sure how long he managed to sleep for before; he woke to a wet warm feeling on his leg, which was between Rae’s. But when she woke with a whimper and a loud moan, and the words, “it’s time” leaving her mouth; he had never been happier that her bag was packed and at the door waiting to be grabbed.  

@eveerez @kneekeyta @lily-pop-2 @mmfdfanfic

[araliyaintheskywithdiamonds]

A CrissColfer Fic- How Darren Lost Brian, But Didn’t Actually

For a prompt by @ccfetish : early!crisscolfer where Darren is watching Brian and Brian leaves the house cause that's what he usually does but Darren panics thinking he's lost him.

While I do imagine Darren being able to charm the pants off like every living thing, I love the idea of him having to compete with Brian for Chris' affections. I adored this prompt!

Read on AO3

It’s the first time Darren’s been alone in Chris’ house, and honestly, he’s not surprised  it’s come so soon. In the past few months he’s all but moved in, spending more time here than at his own apartment, where the dust gathers on his kitchen counter and socks remain untouched on the floor for months on end.

It should be strange- Darren had practically taken the leap from hopping over once a week for script readings, to taking up residence on the couch every other day, and finally, slipping between Chris’ sheets every night, all in a matter of weeks. It was now a common occurrence for him to ride home in Chris’ BMW, his own car sitting lonely in the  Paramount parking lot.

Considering everything- namely Darren’s perpetual need to make noise or do something- Chris actually seemed like having Darren there- a fact that made him almost vibrate with happiness.

The same, however, couldn’t be said for the true head of the house- Brian Colfer.

As soon as Darren stepped into the house that very first time, the immediate rivalry had been established. Brian loathed him from the very start- he was sure of it. After all, why else would he make a point of howling loudly outside the door whenever he and Chris were doing stuff and getting an infuriatingly smug look on his face whenever Darren’s allergies acted up?

Chris, to Darren’s abject indignation, found the whole thing perfectly amusing. Instead, he presented Darren with his antihistamines and a glass of water at the door, and made a point of distracting Brian with food every time they had sex. (Which probably explained why Brian was getting so fat, but Darren wasn’t about to suggest otherwise.)

Chris was kind of their peacemaker, and Darren had been dreading the day that he Brian would inevitably end up alone in each other’s company. Which turned out to be today.

At first the tension had been thick, Brian staring daggers at him as soon as Chris left home, gracing Darren with a peck on the nose and a stern glare at his cat.

As entertaining as Darren’s grudge with Brian was, he knew that if his relationship with Chris was going where it was going (and god, Darren hoped it was), he really had to make an effort to make friends with him. And he hasn’t been above bribery to do it.

All throughout the morning he’s been slipping Brian gourmet cat treats- Delightibles or something (and Chris would have killed him if he knew Darren was significantly reversing the effects of the diet he’s put Brian on)- but the quiet way the cat noses into his palm in the search of more treats is absolutely worth it.

It’s even gone so well as to him curling up in Darren’s lap as he takes care of a couple of emails, Brian’s contented purr tickling his thighs. He eventually has to nudge him off- the urge to pee being too large- and as Darren returns to the sofa he’s surprised to see that the cat’s vanished.

And at a strange time as well- now’s supposed to be when Darren feeds him. He doesn’t think too much of it, settling back down into the cushions that smell so much of Chris and pulling out his guitar for some song tweaking.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that he realises that Brian still hasn’t been to the kitchen to eat, which is ridiculously out of character. Food practically trumps Chris in Brian’s list of loves. Come to think of it, Darren hasn’t seen the damn cat in since morning, and he’s been around the house several times.

A slightly sick feeling forming in his stomach, Darren gets up to search every room- under the bed, on the windowsills, in the washing machine, and nope- he’s nowhere to be found. All that he finds is the open window above the kitchen sink, the gap wide enough for a dog, a raccoon, or a really fat cat.

Fuck.

Now Darren’s freaking out. Brian’s gone. Brian, practically Chris’ child, is gone. And it’s all his fault. Suddenly the thought enters his mind- if he can’t babysit a cat, how is he supposed to look after more important living things, like their kids?

(And woah- where did that thought come from, but right now he’s got more pressing matters on hand than how far gone he is with Chris.)

Quickly pocketing his phone and grabbing his car keys, (Chris doesn’t have to know, Chris doesn’t have to know that he’s lost the cat), Darren jumps in his car, pulling out of the driveway and carefully driving up the street. Brian can’t have gone far, right? He’s a house cat, he probably wouldn’t know where to go anyway.

Darren drives at a snail’s pace, combing the streets around Chris’ house with crazy precision. If he actually had lost Brian, Chris would never forgive him. He’d accuse him of driving Brian away and they’d break up and Darren would die and-

No. It’s all going to be okay. It has to be.

But two hours later, Darren’s still searching even though it’s practically nighttime now, brightening his headlights to the highest setting because he can’t see shit. Defeated, he pulls into the driveway, freezing when he sees Chris’ car already there. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. How is he gonna do this? ‘Oh sorry Chris, the one time you trust me with your beloved cat, he runs away and I can’t find him? Please don’t break up with me?’

Darren steels himself for a moment, fingers gripping the car door for support since his legs might give way with the anxiety. After a minute (or five), he takes a deep breath, slipping through the door after unlocking it with his own key. Darren looks around as he walks into the open plan kitchen, but the house still looks painfully Brian-free.

Chris stands at the counter, phone in hand, and startles when he sees Darren.

“Hey,” he says, eyes brightening.  An easy smile lingers on his face as he makes his way over, and a twist of guilt tightens in Darren’s stomach when Chris’ arms loop around his neck. “I was kind of worried.”

“Oh yeah?” Darren manages to get out, swallowing to get the dryness out of his throat.

“Mhmm. The neighbour called and warned me about some guy circling the block really creepily- multiple times. She’s the lady from across the road, the one with the talking gnomes, so I really wasn’t sure what to make of it.”

Come on, Darren. Do it. Rip the band aid off before it gets any worse.

“I uh- that may have been me?”

Chris’ brow wrinkles in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh god, please don’t hate me, it was all my fault-”

Chris places a hand on Darren’s knotted fingers which have been wringing themselves in a frenzy. “Woah, slow down. Why would I hate you?”

He takes a deep breath, looking straight into the glasz eyes in front of him. “IthinkIlostyourcatandI’msofuckingsorry.”

Chris raises one perfect eyebrow, his face a picture of amusement. If Darren weren’t so fucked right now, he’d be tempted to push him onto the counter and maul him.

“English, please.”

“Brian’s gone. I swear I was being nice to him- we were bonding! I literally turned my back for three minutes and he wasn’t here, I checked everywhere. And then I noticed the open window, he had to have gotten out somehow-”

Chris starts laughing, his high clear voice startling Darren out of his frenzied tirade. “Oh my god, D-dare…” he wheezes, brushing newly forming tears from his eyes. “Y-you do realise that cats go out?”

Darren frowns. “Isn’t Brian a house cat?”

Chris is flushed red from laughing so much, and he tries to somber up, taking a moment to steady his breaths. “House cats can go outside, in fact it’s much healthier for them to do so. Brian actually goes out so much that I was thinking of getting him a cat flap or something- opening the kitchen window lets way too much hot air in.”

Suddenly Darren feels very, very stupid. How did he not know that? He must have been to busy all this time following Chris around like a lost puppy to notice Brian’s lifestyle habits.

At Darren’s rapidly falling face, Chris’ voice softens. “It’s fine Dare, he’s asleep on our bed right now. Shit, you were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Well, yeah?! I would have died if I’d actually lost him. You’d never trust me again!”

“Hey, Brian doesn’t even like Ashley. If you guys were actually bonding, it would literally be a sign from the heavens to trust you. No matter what.”

A pleased smile forces its way onto Darren’s mouth, and he can’t help but preen at the fact that he’s finally won the love of Brian Colfer. “I can’t help but melt the hearts of everyone I meet.”

“Mhmm, keep telling yourself that,” says Chris, leaning forward to peck a kiss against his cheek. As his arms loop around Darren’s neck again, he murmurs against his hairline. “How did you end up bonding with Brian? Must have been a pretty grand gesture, for you to have thawed that ice cold kitty heart.”

Darren swallows guiltily. “Cat treats? Like, lots of them?”

Chris pulls back abruptly. “Dare! He was on a diet! Is that why he hasn’t eaten his dinner yet?”

“Maybe...?” At Chris’ indignant expression, he backpedals slightly. “I mean, at least he’s finally accepted me into the family!”

A small smile appears on his boyfriend’s face at that, and Darren breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well then, we’ve got two options, haven’t we?”

“And they are…?”

Chris’ eyes twinkle with amusement. “Option one, we never have sex again.”

At Darren’s splutter of horror, he laughs. “What? That’s why Brian’s been getting so fat- we always bribe him with food whenever we don’t want him to bother us.” When his expression of alarm doesn’t abate, Chris continues. “Or option two, we let him outside when we want to be alone, maybe that way he can burn some calories.”

“Option two,” Darren blurts immediately. “Definitely option two, I can’t believe you’d even think of number one.”

“Good,” Chris mumbles against his lips, their breath mingling in a heady concoction. “Because I was just thinking, I’d like to put Brian outside now.”

“Colfer, what an amazing idea.”