#it’ll be here saturday so when i’m back from my trip on sunday i can finally have hair again 😭♥️

[twinprime]

ordered a wig bc i cannot STAND this rumpelstiltskin looking hair fr. i’m having phantom hair sensations it literally feels like i’ve lost a part of myself physically and emotionally

[youngerdrgrey]

all the pieces aren't even in the box // the morning show, bradley/laura, chapter three

about: Bradley and Laura's last few months in Montana and how the world reacts along the way (and maybe how they find their way back to each other) ~ read chapter one / chapter two chapter three summary: As Bradley prepares to leave the ranch for the funeral, Laura's conflicting feelings bubble up. (read chapter three on AO3)

mid J U L Y (2020)

By the next morning, Gayle’s already put in the request for Bradley’s time off. It’ll only be a few days since Bradley can work Thursday morning, then start her drive. The funeral’s set for Saturday. Bradley will either leave Sunday while everyone’s at church or Monday morning. She’ll be live on air from the guest house by Wednesday.

Cory’s face only pulls tight once as he hears the full plan. It’s during a post-show Zoom with Cory, Stella, and Mia. Laura watches as Cory’s eyes bounce from Bradley to Laura within their shared Zoom window.

“And will we be replacing one anchor or two?” He asks.

Laura quips with only a bit of spite in it. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cory.” 

His nostrils flare, even as he barks out a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You, my friend, are ratings gold. I’d say you have the Midas touch, but I don’t want to get HR on the call.”

It’s Laura’s turn to give a fake laugh. Bradley flicks the outside of Laura’s thigh. Play nice. Laura turns her gaze to her woman beside her. Bradley still looks like she’s ready to neutralize a fight. But Laura lifts her brows in silent surrender.

She says, “This is Bradley’s trip. I will hold down the fort.”

Bradley speaks only to her, “Thank you.” Then she averts her eyes back to their computer. “Can somebody draft a statement so Twitter doesn’t freak out again?”

Mia speaks up. “We’re already on it. You’re taking time to grieve in conjunction with your family. No mention of you actually traveling for the funeral.”

“Thanks, Mia,” Bradley says.

Laura shouldn’t say it. She shouldn’t mention how they’re avoiding the funeral in the statement because of how hypocritical this whole thing could look.

Cory’s eyes shrink as he makes an exaggerated wince. 

“Question.” He holds up a finger, and Laura feels a rush at the calculated voice he’s already in. He’s going to say it for her, isn’t he? “Do we think it’s a bit of an optics nightmare to send Bradley across country right now? Sure, she did it four months ago, but we have the spent the summer of our discontent tirelessly demanding that our fellow Americans hold the line. No travel, not even for emergencies. Yet here is Bradley Jackson, the face of UBA, doing exactly that.”

The air thickens as Bradley stops breathing. Laura watches the tiny wrinkles form between her brows. A wrench thrown by Bradley’s friend on the inside.

Bradley tries her best to sound friendly, but they all hear the crackle underneath it. “I’m not flying, Cory. I’m driving. By myself, with masks and hand sanitizer.”

He nods. “Then you’re attending the biggest event in your town since New Year’s.”

“It’s my mother’s funeral,” Bradley bites.

“Plenty of people miss funerals every day. We’re in a global pandemic.”

“Are we?” Bradley asks. “The CDC seems a little confused about that.”

Now that's too far. Bradley's being willfully obtuse for her trip.

Laura sets a hand on Bradley’s thigh, and Bradley whips her head to glare at Laura too. For a moment, Laura hesitates. If she publicly sides with Cory, after she was the one who set this in motion….

She can play the fence. 

“Maybe Bradley can keep a low profile,” Laura suggests.

Bradley runs with it. “I don’t need to give a speech. Hal has got that covered.”

He doesn’t, but Laura can’t say that either.

Cory grinds his jaw. “And when America asks where you’ve been for three days?”

Bradley gives a dazzling smile. “We refer them to Mia’s brilliant statement. Honestly, the less people I talk to down there, the better. Gives me a perfect excuse to avoid a few uncomfortable reunions.”

Cory’s eyes shift, and Laura can feel them on her. “Laura? What do you think?”

She never should’ve made this suggestion. Bradley going is an awful idea. She doesn’t want to be alone in this house for three weeks just because Bradley wants to say goodbye to a woman that Bradley despised.

Laura smiles into the camera. “So long as she stays masked up, then we should all be fine. I have had to use the restroom since we went off air. If you’ll excuse me.”

She stands up over their commentary. Heads out with something like panic vibrating under her skin. She fucked up. She put herself in this impossible situation where she can’t tell Bradley how deeply she wants Bradley to stay. Her therapist isn’t available until next week, and Gordon will absolutely make things worse if she tells him how she feels.

Laura walks past the studio restroom for the main house. The rest of the call will be travel logistics anyway. She needs to center herself before she says something she’ll regret.

She starts a bath in the master bedroom. That will calm her down.

What is it about Bradley that makes Laura so unstable? She destabilizes Laura. She upends her time and time again, and Laura keeps allowing it to happen. Honestly, Laura should’ve never let Bradley move in. It was too soon. 

Yet, even as she thinks it, Laura doesn’t mean it. Having Bradley here has been her North Star. Her gravity as every new piece of information sends the world reeling. But if her gravity falters, then where does that leave her? Splayed out on the ground, gasping for air that her lungs can’t process.

She undresses and slips into the water. 

She needs to be her own gravity again. She can do that. She’s done it for over fifty years. Why should now be any different?

“Babe?” Bradley’s voice comes from the other side of the bathroom door. Laura’s traitorous heart soars at hearing babe again. Bradley’s been withholding in her grief. One of her little rebellions. “Can I come in?”

“Open it.”

In comes Bradley in her work dress with a cold glass of water for each of them. She pauses at the door, eyes raking along Laura in the tub. 

“The call wasn’t that long. I, uh, took out the trash before coming up. I didn’t mean to let it sit so long. I just….”

“You just?”

Laura wants her to say it. Wants Bradley to find her voice in all of this.

Bradley lands on, “You know I can’t fight Hal. I can’t. He’s too raw and tender. He can’t handle it.” 

“I suppose there’s a compliment for me in there.”

Bradley shakes her head. She crosses the room to kneel beside the tub. Sets the glasses on the railing beside Laura’s left arm.

“No. Well, yes, but not intentionally.” Bradley holds Laura’s eyes so softly. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve been forgetting that you’re tender too. And if all this is too much for you, if you don’t want me to go… then I can stay right here. With you.”

It’s an impossible situation. Laura’s heart pounds in her ears. She can’t do more than blink as she takes that in. 

The acknowledgment is everything, but Bradley cannot possibly mean it. Bradley may hate her mom, hate everything that Sandy Jackson stood for her and did to Bradley and her brother. But she hasn’t healed from any of it. Hasn’t processed enough that this death doesn’t wreck everything else she’s built on shaky ground.

Laura says, “You don’t owe it to her, Bradley. You don’t owe her anything.”

On instinct, Bradley says, “She gave birth to me. She fed me and clothed me.”

“You fed yourself more often than not. You may think you’ve hidden it, but not from me. You — she hurt you.” She stills hurt Bradley, even when she’s not around.

“Not in the ways that matter,” Bradley says. She shakes her head. “Not in a way I can’t come back from. I’m not, you know, Hal.”

“You mean you’re not an addict.”

“I’m not.”

But Bradley does bury her feelings in whatever she can. Buries them in her reporting and in Laura and in midnight margaritas that make no sense for their earlier mountain call time.

Months ago, when Laura first brought up therapy, Bradley had been afraid that they would call her crazy. Is that what this is about? Bradley wants to prove to everybody that she’s mentally stable? Mental disorders and hormone imbalances are often genetic. Hal has them for sure, but Bradley could easily have something too. She just did a different job of hiding it and handling it.

As gently as she can, Laura says, “There’s other options than just ‘crazy,’ ‘addict,’ and ‘fine.’”

Bradley’s eyes narrow. “‘Crazy?’ What part of burying my mother makes me crazy?”

“None of it.” Laura twists in the tub to set her hand next to Bradley’s. “Bradley, that’s not what I said.”

“You literally said the word ‘crazy!’”

“Because you seem to have an aversion to talking about any other possibilities. You are very sane, Bradley Jackson, but when it comes to your mother, or to Hal, you can be so reactive and defensive—“

“I’m not—“ Bradley stops herself. Laura quirks a brow as Bradley flushes. “You don’t know them. Nobody does. I’ve spent my whole life defending them. That doesn’t make me crazy.”

“I know, honey. I’m not trying to diagnose you. That’s not my job. My only job is to support you through whatever comes our way.”

Bradley leans into the tub, so it can help hold her up. “How come this kind of support isn’t enough?”

“It is,” Laura says, “but we all deserve more than bare minimums.” Bradley eyes Laura’s bare body. Clear sign of deflection, and Laura splashes a bit of water out of the tub to stop her. “Focus.”

Bradley swipes the water off her face. “I am. You’re deflecting too. You didn’t answer my question. Do you want me to go?”

Laura sighs. Fine. “Of course I don’t,” she admits without looking, “but I won’t stop you either. I’m just… not ready for all this to be over.”

“Over? Laura, I’m coming back.”

“I know that, but in here—“ Laura puts a hand to her wet chest “—it’s harder to know.” Laura feels flushed after saying that. Vulnerable in the same way she’s been asking Bradley to be. It’s uncomfortable to say the least. To admit that Bradley has this space in her heart and in her life.

Bradley takes the hand from Laura’s chest in two of her own. “Then let’s do something fun before I leave. Anything you want.”

A last good day.

Anything she wants. They can’t leave the ranch, not that Laura really wants to. There’s only one thing they haven’t done. Four months in, and Bradley still won’t go horseback riding. Bradley always insists that it’s Laura’s thing. Bradley’s never been good with animals. Their earlier compromise had been that Bradley would go with Laura to the stables. Brush the horses. Feed them. But she still hasn’t ridden.

“Ride with me,” Laura says. Bradley’s lips quirk, so Laura corrects, “Horseback. Today.”

“Today!?”

“You said anything I want.”

Bradley rolls her eyes. “I thought you’d want something like a massage, or a picnic. Not try to kill me.”

Scout would never hurt Bradley. Neither would Sue. But Laura’s said that more than enough times since March.

She leans forward, knowing good and well that it’s not playing fair to draw Bradley’s eyes back to her body. Might as well remind her what she’ll miss, right?

Laura asks, “Is that a no?”

Bradley pries her gaze back up to meet Laura’s. “If you want us to make it out there, you better get out the tub.”

“Or what?”

Bradley doesn’t take the bait. She pushes herself up off the floor and grabs her lukewarm water glass. She heads for the door, talking as she goes, “What do I even wear to go horseback riding? All of my boots have heels.”

Laura calls after her. “A whole life in West Virginia, and you don’t have any boots?”

“I threw them out when I moved to New York!”

.

.

The next hour’s a bit of a blur. Bradley ends up in a pink and blue plaid shirt that screams “gay and into horses.” Laura pulls on a nice denim shirt and a white hat for the sun. Then they head down to the stables. 

Laura squeezes Bradley’s hand before they go in. Reminds her, “Don’t be nervous. They can sense it. They already like you.”

Still, Bradley’s hand shakes when she holds it out so Scout can smell the back of her hand. The horsemen’s handshake gives the horse the chance to trust the rider.

Bradley mumbles, “Can’t believe you named your horse after ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’” Laura allows it since the chiding means Bradley’s loosening up.

Laura brushes Sue, her other horse, who bristles at the fact that she’s not going out today.

“I’d been rereading when we got her. It felt appropriate.”

Scout touches her nose to Bradley’s hand. Bradley beams over at Laura. She’s a bundle of proud nerves until Laura says, “Now you can mount her.”

“Oh boy.”

Then Laura helps Bradley get up onto Scout. Corrects her form and grip on the reins. They do a few short laps inside to get Bradley and Scout acquainted before Laura checks back in.

“How do you want to do this? Together or separate?”

Bradley laughs. “Together please. Do not leave me alone with her.”

So Laura climbs up behind Bradley and curves her body around Bradley’s. She settles her hands on Bradley’s wrists.

“To help guide you,” Laura says, “but you’ve got this. I’m right here with you. Stay calm, and move with her. Keep your eyes ahead, so she knows where to go.”

Bradley turns her head just enough to see Laura’s face beside hers. “Anything else?”

Laura presses a kiss to her lips. “Have a good ride. And thank you, for doing this.”

Bradley kisses her back. “Thank me if we stay upright.”

Laura’s laugh follows them out into the field.

.

.

Nearly an hour and only two near falls later, they reach a clearing with a wooden fence and a picnic table. Laura helps Bradley down, and they tie Scout up while they all regroup and hydrate. There’s a small watering trough there for Scout. Bradley watches her drink with a little smile on her face.

“Admit it,” Laura says with a shift of her hat on her head. “You liked it.”

Bradley takes a big swig of her water. “I admit nothing. ‘Cept maybe how good it feels to have you behind me.”

Laura’s grin grows. “What did you say? Is Big Spoon Bradley Jackson saying she wants to be held?”

Bradley swats at the brim of Laura’s hat. “You hold me plenty.”

“I do.”

Bradley rolls her eyes and watches Scout’s mane blow in the breeze. One of the great things about Montana has been the views. Even now, there’s these gorgeous trees and wide fields of flowers that barely glimpse at neighboring properties. Bradley’s never had so much space in her life. Never felt so full.

“Let’s take a picture,” Bradley says.

Laura smiles. “Of what? Us?”

Bradley nods. “But not a selfie. We can balance it.” She gets up from the table to use her helmet as a prop for her phone.

“Bad day to leave the tripod at home,” Laura jokes. Bradley flips her off. Laura walks closer to the wooden fence.

Bradley sets the timer and rushes to Laura’s side. “Put your arm around me.”

“You’re directing now?”

Bradley huffs, and Laura just barely gets her arm up before the camera clicks. Bradley slips out of Laura’s grasp to set the timer again.

Laura says, “It might help if you tell me the pose before you hit the button. What do you want, Bradley?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley says while she changes it from five seconds to ten. “Something cute.” Something they can look back on once their thighs stop aching and the sunburn’s gone and remember that they had a good day during a God awful week. Something she can show Hal when he asks why she’s leaving so soon in a few days.

“Well, you’re cute,” Laura says once Bradley gets back to her side. She slips her right arm around Bradley’s shoulders, and Bradley slips her left around Laura’s waist. “So how about you smile and I’ll just—“ 

She presses a kiss to Bradley’s temple. It’s probably cheesy. Next level corny that this picture will be the two of them in the gayest possible outfits after horseback riding in Montana, but damn, if that thought doesn’t make Bradley smile even harder. 

She never thought she’d get this. She almost screwed it up several times over, but here she is with a woman she’s crazy about who could have asked for anything in the world, and all Laura wanted was to do something she loved with Bradley.

The camera clicks, but Bradley doesn’t even hear it. She turns in Laura’s hold and wraps her other arm around Laura’s waist.

“I did like it,” Bradley tells her.

Laura smiles. “I know. But thank you for telling me.”

“Can I tell you something else?” Bradley asks. Once she does, her heart pounds heavy in her chest. It’s like it wants out of there. She has to gulp just to keep it out of her throat.

Laura must feel it since she rubs her hand along Bradley’s back. Lifts her other to hold Bradley too.

“Anything.”

Just say it. Say something. Say she’s never been happier than she is with Laura by her side. Say she could spend the rest of her life here if they were allowed to go out and be people sometimes too. Say that she’ll be back the moment she can, and this week is just the last thing she needs to do before she can really move forward.

A whole world of things Bradley could’ve said, but all that leaves her mouth is: 

“Come with me.”

.

.

a/n: !!!!!! COME! WITH! ME! will she do it? should she do it? l

et me know what you think and what else stood out to you.

also, just to say it, fictional lesbian/journalist Laura Peterson would never spout zionist propaganda the way that her actress currently is. I won't say much on here bc it's a fic site, and I am here to escape into Montana, but also free Palestine. stopping Israel has nothing to do with judaism, and it's an awful weaponization of religion to equate stopping genocide with antisemitism.

[hockeyisit]

#SMASHVILLE

Summary: The WAGs go to Nashville.

A.N. Hey I’ve been working on this for awhile now and I am really excited for ya’ll to read it. A few things to know Auston has a game in Nashville so Amelia decides to plan a trip to Nashville so that she could see the game and hang out in the city. Amelia ends up inviting a few WAGs, Steph, Sara, Audrey, Ashley, Jenna, Marissa, and Penny. I also want to say a huge huge thank you to @dockaspbrak​ for beta reading this. I appreciated all your comments and help! 

Word Count: 9,823

Masterlist

“Hey babe,” I called out to Auston. I was currently working on an article for work but had gotten distracted looking at the Leafs schedule on my phone.

“Yeah?” Auston asked not glancing away from his video game. Ever since he got suspended for two games he’s done nothing but play video games when he’s home.

“You guys are playing in Nashville this weekend?” I said phrasing it like a question.

“Yeah we’re flying in on Friday, leaving Sunday morning.”

“I want to come,” I said, pushing myself up from my seat and walking over to the couch he was sitting on. He glanced away from the tv to look at me.

“Really?” He asked, surprised. It was rare that I wanted to go to games that weren’t in Toronto. The only ones I’d made it to are Chicago and Arizona to see family.  

“Yes, Nashville is my favorite city! We could check out Broadway after and head to some different bars.”

A small smile formed on his face as he thought about it.

“I mean, I can pay for my ticket and stuff so I’m not worried about that. I guess I just want to know if you’d even be able to have time to go to the bars with me after the game.” I continued when he didn’t say anything. I leaned my body into his side so I could cuddle close to him.

“Yeah, I should be able to do something after the game on Saturday. Have you looked at flights? You might want to try to convince someone else to come so you don’t have to be alone for most of the day though,” he said as he rubbed his hand up and down my arm. I pouted because I had some plans in mind that definitely didn’t include anyone else but pulled up FaceTime anyway.

Clicking on Steph I waited for it to ring.

“Hey biotch,” she answered after a few rings. I let out a laugh as I grinned at her. I moved the camera so she could see Auston in the corner of the screen.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked excitedly.

“Other than our original mimosas, I’ve got nothing.”

“How about mimosas in Nashville instead?” I questioned, trying to hide my growing smile.

“Oh my god yess!” She grinned. I opened up Safari so I could start looking at flights.

“Have you ever been to Nashville?” I asked, as I continued to scroll through the expensive prices for Friday.

“No, I’ve never been but I’ve always wanted to go.”

“We should honestly fly in Thursday. The tickets are cheaper and then it’ll give us a day without the boys.”

“Hey,” Auston said, pouting. I let out a soft laugh as I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t you want to watch the game with me? And see Freddie,” he teased with a smirk.

“Fuck, I forgot he was going to be here. Okay Steph, how about we leave Friday and come back Monday?”  

“Alright, Sounds good to me.”

“Okay then! I’m going to buy the tickets.”

“Let me know what I owe you when you're done. I'm going to go find Mitch and tell him we’re going.”

——

“Are you sad you don’t get to play against Fred?” I asked Auston, wrapping my arm around him from behind. Since Auston wasn’t allowed to play in the game he had decided to sit up in the box and had brought me with. I found it kind of cool to be able to sit and watch a game with him. Still, I felt somewhat melancholy because I knew he wanted to be down there playing.

“Yeah it sucks that this is the game I have to miss,” he mumbled, lifting his hand up to rest on my arm. “Freds going to get dinner with us after. Then probably come over for a little,” he said leaning his head back against my shoulder.

“Okay.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling away to grab my beer off the table. Auston wasn’t allowed to drink at the game, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from drinking.

The game went by quickly and not long after the arena was emptying out. Auston grabbed my hand, and led me down to the Leafs locker room, he had to talk to a few different trainers. I sat down in the hall playing a few games on my phone in the meantime. A few of the players from the Leafs came up to talk to me, while a few Canes players gave me weird looks when they passed. Finally almost 40 minutes later, Freddie came out of the locker room with a few other guys. My face lit up as I made my way over to him.

“Freddie!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him and pulling him into a hug. His teammates looked slightly confused, but I didn’t pay much attention to them.

“Missed watching you in the bars,” I told him, knowing he wouldn’t be happy with a ‘you played well’.

“Missed seeing you at the games!” He shot back quickly. I grinned but before I had a chance to respond I felt arms slipping around my waist. I immediately leaned into the touch, knowing it was Auston.

“Sup FredEx,” Auston said.

“Can’t believe you weren’t out there,” Freddie said, shaking his head. His teammates said hi to Auston, before quickly making their excuses to leave.

“Where do you want to eat?” I asked, interlocking my fingers with Auston as the three of us walked towards Auston’s car.

“Honestly, maybe just pick up some food from somewhere. I don’t know if I could sit in a restaurant or bar,” he admitted rubbing the back of his neck. My heart broke seeing and hearing the way the Leafs fans and media responded to him.

Auston and Freddie hopped in the front while I chose a seat in the back.

“Let me see it,” Freddie said the second we gathered in the car. I blushed brightly as I reached for the chain that was dangling around my neck. I decided to pull it off completely and handed it to Freddie.

“Wow it looks even better in person,” he said, twisting it around. Auston had gotten me a custom ring, which even had a little note engraved in it.

“You know I helped design this right?” Freddie said, handing it back to me.

“What! No, he didn’t,” Auston quickly denied, turning out of the parking lot. The three of us let out a laugh as Auston drove to Freddie’s favorite place, and then went back to Auston and my apartment. We were immediately greeted by an excited Felix, who only grew more excited when he noticed Freddie.

I grabbed some plates and drinks out while the boys greeted Felix.

“I can take him out real quick,” I said, grabbing his leash. Usually Auston took him out after games, but I wanted to give them time to catch up.

—-

“I can’t believe we’re actually going!” Steph squealed excitedly, as we made our way through customs at the airport. We had ended up inviting a couple of the other girls from the WAGs, so now we were a group of eight.

“I know, I’m so excited! But also this flight is going to suck,” I responded. She glanced at me slightly confused.

“It’s a short flight,” she said.

“Oh um–Did I forget to mention that I hate flying?” I asked, forcing out a small laugh.  

“Oh my god! Is that why you didn’t come to New York with us?” She realized, connecting the dots.. I glanced around making sure no attention was drawn.

“I mean, sort of…but I really did have a lot of work and plus my little sister came to visit U of T!” I justify.

“Right. Well, just sleep and I’ll wake you when we land,” she said. Easier said than done.

—--

Steph and I decided to share a room, because we knew that one of us would end up at the team hotel. We decided to share a room, even though we knew one of us would probably end up at the team hotel. We weren’t technically allowed to do that, so we needed proof of our own room, but that’s never stopped anyone before but we did need to have proof of our own room.

When we arrived, we went straight to the hotel so we could all get ready and change.

“Alright so who’s been to Nashville before?” I asked. We were all gathered in the lobby and about to head out to Broadway. Nobody spoke up, causing me to glance at them all in shock. I had expected at least one of them to have been here before.

“No way none of you have been here.” Everyone let out a laugh while shrugging.

“Well, thankfully for you guys I’ve been here a few times.I know all the best places to eat. First stop on the tour will be Tin Roof, they have the best burgers,” I told them, leading them out of the lobby and to broadway.

Time flew as we stopped in different gift shops and different bars, and not long after the boys were arriving in Nashville and getting practice over with.

“Auston just texted me,” I announced to the group. We had been waiting for someone to text so that we could meet them for dinner.

“What he say?” Audrey, Justin Holl’s girlfriend asked.

“Just got done with PPG interview. I can be ready in 25,” I said reading it out to the group word for word. I was already starting to feel the effects of the alcohol that we had been drinking since we arrived on Broadway.

“Wow, why has nobody else texted? Really feeling the love,” Penny said, slapping her phone down onto our table. I let out a laugh as I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in.

“Penn, I’m sure Willy loves you. He only cries to me about it once a week,” I joked. She let out a happy laugh as she leaned into me. Moments later her phone was lighting up with a text from Willy.

“This music is great,” Jenna said as she danced around the table.

“Steph,” I said, leaning close to her so she could hear me.

“Did I tell you that Auston proposed to me?”

“WHAT!” She screamed loudly, causing the girls to look at us. I sent her wide eyes, not wanting them to know.

“Sorry Mitch he said something,” she said quickly getting the message.

“Where's the ring?” she asked when they looked away. I reached into my shirt and pulled out the long chain that was dangling around my neck. Her eyes immediately locked onto the ring.

“Oh my god Amelia!” I shushed her, glancing back at the girls.

“I don’t want to announce it yet. I want to tell everyone important before it gets out. His family doesn't even know yet.” “Who knows?” She asked.

“Freddie, he helped Auston with the ring, I think.His mom knew that he was going to ask. He told his sisters and I’m sure his mom mentioned it to his dad. Um, he asked my brother and dad's permission and told my sister. Other than that, you,” I said.

“Well congratulations I’m so happy for you.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m so happy you're happy with him,” she said into my ear. I pulled back with a wide grin.

“Don’t tell anyone. Not even Mitch, because I’m sure Auston wants to,” I told her. She nodded her head. Before we could continue talking, a song we both liked came on and we started singing at the top of our lungs.

—--

“Let’s go to Nudies,” I told the group at large. We had been arguing about where to go to eat for the last twenty minutes and nobody could agree.

“It has every type of food and we won’t have a problem finding a table. They also have live music as well as clubbing music.”

We were currently standing outside and thankfully not too many bars had lines. Auston wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

“You're sexy,” he mumbled into my ear. I blushed as I pushed at him slightly.

Once we made it into the bar, we all ordered food and ate it quickly. Couples had already started straying to the dance floor and it left Willy, Penny, Mitch, Steph, Auston and I at the table.

“Guys,” Auston called out, causing the other two couples to look at him. “Look at this,” he reached over and tugged the necklace out of where it was hidden in my shirt, the ring on full display. Both Willy and Mitch looked extremely surprised, but happy for us.  

“When did this happen?” Willy asked. I blushed as I looked down at where Austons hand was resting on my thigh.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Auston said not answering the question. Sometimes Auston really didn’t like sharing information about our relationship. So much of his life was on display, I think he just liked keeping this part private.

“Aus,” I said, tugging on his arm in warning. “He asked me last week. We’ve just been slowly telling people. We still haven’t told all of our family. So maybe keep it to yourselves please.”

They all agreed, and Penny started talking to Willy about something that was going on at work and everyone was kind of just listening.

“Can we go dance?” I whispered/shouted in Auston's ear so he could hear me over the music.

“Sure, let’s go upstairs though,” he said, standing up and helping me from my stool. I grinned as I grabbed his hand to steady myself.

We made our way to the stairs and then climbed our way to the third floor. We were instantly met by clubbing music, as well as two different areas to go out onto a rooftop. I pulled Auston towards the bigger rooftop area that was facing Broadway. As soon as I found enough space for the two of us I turned my back so that it was flush against his body. I slowly started rocking my hips against him slowly to the beat of the song.

His hands settled on my waist and he helped guide me to the beat. His body pressed closer to mine and I could feel him poking me from behind. I let out a soft laugh as I turned in his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck so that my fingers could play with the ends of his hair.

“You look absolutely stunning, baby,” Auston said loud enough for me to hear over the music. I pressed myself closer to him, and his hands wrapped around my back holding me in as we swayed to the music.

“Thank you,” I blushed, leaning up so that I could kiss him. His lips were quick to respond to mine and we started making out in the middle of the rooftop, only pulling away when I felt someone bump into me from behind.

I turned around so that I could face the culprit and found a taller guy smirking at me.

“Sorry about that, princess,” he grinned, reaching out to put his arm on me. I leaned away out of his touch and closer to Auston.

“She’s fine, man. Maybe be a little more careful from now on,” Auston said protectively, stepping in front of me.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” he said, putting his hands up in the air. I rolled my eyes in disgust before pulling Auston away, so that nothing would be started.

“Let’s get a drink.”

After we got to the bar we ordered two shots and then made our way back downstairs to the group. We danced for another hour, before deciding to make our way back to the hotel since the boys had to be up for practice.

“You and Mitch can stay in the room tonight,” I said turning to Steph as we talked about where to go.

“Sweet! I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Steph said, pulling me into a quick hug. I then pulled all the other girls into a quick hug as we made our way to the team hotel.

“Go in,” Auston said as he pulled the door to his room open.

“Demanding,” I smirked as I walked into the room and made my way right over to his suitcase, so I could pull out something to wear to bed.

“Do you want to shower tonight or just go to bed?” he asked as he made his way over to where I was standing. I leaned up on my tiptoes so I could press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I guess I should shower real quick,” I said, letting out a soft sigh.

“Alright, you can use my stuff.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out his toiletry bag, handing it to me.

“I’ll shower when you're done,” he said, grabbing the remote to the TV. I nodded my head, turning to the bathroom before pausing.

“Aus, do you have shoes I can wear?” I asked quietly. Ever since I was young, I had this weird phobia of not being able to shower in hotel bathrooms unless I had shoes. I knew they cleaned the bathroom, but something about it just unnerved me and I couldn’t get past it. He let out a soft chuckle knowingly as he reached into his bag and pulled out some waterproof slides.

“Here, baby,” he said, setting them down on the ground for me to step into.

“Thank you.” I said putting my hand on his shoulder as I slipped them on.

The shower went by quickly, and I made my way out into the room in just my towel.

“All yours but I'll need to come in to brush my teeth,” I said as I walked over to where I had set the clothes before my shower.

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick too.”

When I was finished getting dressed and doing my night routine (as best as I could considering all my stuff was in my hotel room) I walked into the bathroom. Auston was still in the shower but I was able to see his full body seeing as it was just a glass door. I wiggled my eyebrows as I walked over to the sink. I had slipped a spare toothbrush into Auston’s toiletry bag at the beginning of the season and he had yet to use it, so I used it for myself.

“You look sexy,” I said once I had finished brushing my teeth. I leaned against the counter looking at him. He grinned as he looked at me through the glass.

“Don’t start something you're not going to finish,” he joked as he continued washing his body. I blushed as I turned away.

“Okay. I’m going to bed,” I said, making my way out of the room. I crawled into bed and plugged my phone into the charger. Auston had turned on a movie while I was showering and it wasn’t something I recognized. So I decided to flip through my phone while I waited for him to finish. I had received a few photo updates of Felix at the doggy hotel, and I smiled happily as I clicked through them.

“Hey,” Auston said, causing me to look up. He was standing with his towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand as he dried his upper body.

“You can change the channel if you want,” he said. He dropped his towel and then turned to grab his briefs. He pulled them on before walking over to the thermostat. It was set at 74 and he turned it down to 71. He then turned off all the lights except the one on my side of the bed.

“I don’t,” I answered before turning my attention back to my phone, so I could continue texting. He walked over to his side of the bed with two water bottles.

“Here, babe,” he said, holding one out for me. I took it, setting it on the table. He plugged his phone into the charger before crawling in the bed next to me. He laid so that he was laying on his side facing me. He had the remote in his hand and he wrapped that arm around my waist.

“What are you doing?” he asked into my ear.

“Look at these photos of Felix,” I said happily cuddling into him.

“Aww,” he said against my ear as I clicked through the photos. When I was done I clicked my phone off and set it down next to me.

“Did you set alarms?” I asked him as I cuddled closer.

“Yeah, eight,” he mumbled close to falling asleep. I grabbed the remote out of his hand and turned the volume close to down before setting a thirty minute timer.

“I’m so happy I’m here,” I said softly. His grip around me tightened slightly.

“Me too,” he whispered. I reached down and pulled his hand up to my lips so I could give him a kiss.

—---

“Go back to sleep,” Auston mumbled as the alarm went off. He turned it off and slowly pulled himself out of bed. I felt the bathroom light turn on but the door was quickly shut, setting the room back into pitch black.

“Amelia,” Auston said, rubbing his hand over my back. I grumbled as I turned onto my side. I sleepily opened my eyes, shutting them quickly when the lights hurt my head.

“I just finished showering and I gotta head to team breakfast soon,” he continued when I didn’t say anything. Auston tapped my shoulder again and I sleepily opened my eyes to see Auston holding the water bottle in front of me open.

“What time?” I mumbled. Sometimes I was really not a morning person, usually when I was on vacation.

“It’s nine and I know Steph will be up because Mitch is coming from there. I can walk you back to your hotel,” he offered. I pushed myself up so I was sitting in the bed and I reached for my water. I let out a soft cough before taking a pull. My throat was feeling pretty sore from all the singing and screaming I had done the day before in Nashville.

“Let me brush my teeth.” I pushed myself out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I always hated talking before I brushed my teeth. It just felt yucky.

“I think I’m just going to wear this to the hotel,” I said once I was done. I was wearing a pair of just Auston’s sweatpants and one of his baggy sweatshirts.

“Okay,” he said looking up from his phone. I walked over to his suitcase grabbing a pair of his socks. I pulled them on before looking at my heels. There was no way I was going to wear my heels.

“Aus, can I wear your slides to the hotel?” I questioned as I picked up my heels.

“Sure. You can leave those here. I'll be able to fit them in my suitcase,” he said, standing up and walking over to his bag.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I easily went into his arms, melting like pudding.

“You smell good,” I mumbled, pressing my face into his chest.

“Thanks.” He pulled back so that he could press a quick kiss to my lips.

“We should go so I’m not late,” he said, opening the door. “I have your phone.”

“Alright,” I grabbed my purse and followed him to the elevator. He laced his fingers with mine as we waited, and not long after we pressed the button did someone join us. Sheldon Keefe.

My eyes widened slightly as I turned my body towards Auston completely.

“Morning Coach,” Auston said with a warm grin.

“Morning,” he responded.

I had met him numerous times now but I always felt slightly awkward around him. Like if I said or did the wrong thing, Auston could get in trouble.

The doors opened and the three of us made it in. As the doors started to shut, we heard a ‘wait!’ and Auston was reaching his arm out to stop it. The doors reopened fully and in stepped Michael Bunting.

He snickered as he took in the people on the elevator. I blushed looking down at the ground. Michael Bunting was new this season, and although him and Auston had gotten close really fast, I still didn’t know him that well.

“Morning Coach,” he said before turning to us.

“Great to see you in Nashville, Amelia,” he said. “Hope you had a good night,” he paused looking around. “I’ve heard the live bands are great.”

I squeezed Auston’s hand, knowing he was just fucking with us. The situation felt so bizarre  because I felt like I was doing a walk of shame, except there was no shame because I love Auston and we didn’t even have sex.

“Yeah the bars are awesome. Some of the other girlfriends are here too. We're going to the game later,” I said, adding the game part in hopes to be on everyone's good side.

“That’ll be fun,” Bunts said. I let out a soft laugh as I nodded. Why did we have to be on the 15th floor? Finally, the doors opened and we all exited the elevator.

“See you,” Bunts said, walking away.

As soon as Auston and I were outside of the hotel, I turned to face him.

“Never again,” I exaggerated. He let out a laugh as he shook his head.

“I'm never staying at a team hotel again.” I said seriously but let out a laugh at the end.

“Okay, baby. Next time, you will get your own room.”

The walk went by quickly and we were at my hotel room.

“Okay I’ll text you after the game, and we’ll figure out where to meet,” he said. I nodded my head before wrapping my arms around his neck so I could kiss him.

“Good luck, baby,” I whispered.

“Thank you.”

“Score me a goal,” I said, pulling away. I grabbed my key out of my purse.

“Okay.”

I went to use my key, but decided to knock instead. Ten seconds later, Mitch was opening the door fully dressed.

“Morning,” he grinned. I nodded at him before making my way into the room.

The two left, leaving Steph and I alone. Thankfully only one of the beds was messed up. I walked over to the bed I had claimed and flopped onto it.

“Long night?” Steph laughed. Her and Mitch were the most morning people you could know. Which was pretty much the opposite of Auston and I.

“No,” I huffed, rolling over and spreading out.

“We didn’t have sex,” I contined. “I didn’t want to. I was really tired and we just had a lot because he was suspended.” I rolled over so I was laying on my stomach, my arms holding my face up. He’s also weird about sex before games and I was honestly convinced it was a superstition. “And I was really afraid that the team would hear through the wall.”

“That was always my biggest fear when Mitch would bring me back to the team hotel. I would get so paranoid so I would make as little noise as possible.”

“Yeah and we had to ride the elevator down from the fifteenth floor with Sheldon Keefe and Bunts,” I said.

“I bet that was awkward.” She finally got out through her laughter.

“How was your night?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

“We had tons of sex,” she laughed. “We didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing.”

“Lucky bitch,” I joked.

“Don’t worry you’ll get your chance,” she winked.

“Let’s get ready,” I said blushing at what she was implying.

It was already nine forty, and we had the game at six so our plan was to enjoy the day on Broadway then go back to the hotel so we could change before the game.

I turned on some music while I started to pick out what I was going to wear. When I was done with that, I started working on my makeup and not long later Steph was joining me in the bathroom to do the same.

“The rest of the girls are going to meet us in the lobby in twenty minutes,” Steph said as she applied her contour. I nodded my head walking over to grab my phone and look through it. I had a text from Auston.

Aus💕

Bunts is giving me so much shit.

Worth it though❤️

I responded quickly with a heart and then started getting dressed.

Soon after, Steph and I were both ready and making our way down to the lobby. Most of the girls were already there, so we took some photos as we waited for everyone else to show up.

Penny and Audrey showed up after us, and we took a group photo before making our way to the first bar we saw.

——

“Let’s fucking go,” I cheered as we stepped off the elevator onto our floor. We had been drinking all day, and I was definitely feeling myself at this point. Ashley and Steph laughed at me.

“What are you guys wearing tonight?” I asked them as we walked to our rooms. We had thankfully all been placed on the same floor; we just weren’t all right next to each other.

“Probably a shirt with my leather jacket and jeans,” Ashley said as she approached her door.

“See you guys soon!”

We didn’t have much time to get ready since it was so close to when the game would be starting.

I pulled out the jersey of Austons I had packed along with his Maple Leafs hat I stole. I planned to wear them with a pair of blue bell bottom jeans with my cowgirl boots I had bought.

“That’s going to be so cute,” Steph said as she looked at my outfit laid out on my bed.

“That’s so sweet,” I grinned.

“What are you wearing?”

Steph pulled out a jean jacket that said Toronto Maple Leafs on the back along with Mitchy’s number. She then pulled out a pair of black leather pants and a cute shirt.

“I love those jackets,” I said as I grabbed it off the bed to look at it. I wasn’t dating Auston when these jackets had been made, so I unfortunately didn’t get one.

We both quickly got dressed and touched up our makeup.

“We should probably go. The game starts in thirty minutes. We definitely missed warmups,” Steph said as she grabbed her purse. I nodded my head as I gathered all the things I would need.

“Yess! I’m ready, let’s go!” I squealed happily. I was so excited to get to the game and watch Auston play hockey. We met up with the other girls at the elevator and I immediately noticed I was the only one wearing a jersey. This happened a lot, I wasn’t really sure why none of the girls wore jersey’s but they almost never did. Jersey’s were always my go to thing though, because I knew how much Auston liked seeing me in his jersey.

I had even decided to wear one of my favorite black lingerie pieces under my outfit, and I couldn’t wait for Auston to see it under the jersey.

“Let’s just go in this gate,” Audrey said walking up to the door. The guys didn’t have tickets to the game and so we were tasked to find our own tickets. After a lot of debate we had decided to get two rows with four and four. We weren’t able to find eight seats in a row so we had to improvise.

There were actually a lot of people wearing Leafs attire, so I didn’t feel that out of place as we made our way over to where the seats were.

“I’m going to grab a beer,” I told the girls as they started walking down the aisle. A few heads turned my way at the idea, so we instead headed back to the concessions. Our seats were pretty good. We were on the side where we would get to see our goalie two times and were only a few rows away.

“Sara, sit by me,” I called out as we all took our seats. I knew she was bummed that she wasn’t going to get to see Petr play. They had just finished the national anthem and the game was going to be starting any minute.

“Are you excited to see him play again?” she asked as they lined up to take the faceoff.

“Yeah, I know he’s excited to play as well. He always gets pretty antsy when he can’t play,” I said, raising my cup to take a sip.

“Auston just tripped,” Steph said pointing at him where he had indeed tripped, but caught himself quickly.

I took another sip of my drink as I paid more attention to what was going on.

“Did you ever play hockey as a kid?” I asked. Steph let out a laugh as she nodded her head.

“It’s almost a right of passage in Canada,” she said leaning closer so I could hear her.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I wanted to do other things. Other sports,” she shrugged. “The period is about to end, let's head to the bathroom before a line forms,” she stood up and I quickly followed after her.

The first period had gone down with nothing exciting happening and us just having a lot of time to talk. We had been getting a few glances from the Nashville fans, but nothing to make me feel unsafe. The score was 1-0 Nashville so maybe that was helping.

“I’m going to get another drink before we go back to our seats,” I told Marissa, who was standing the closest to me. A few of the other girls had started making their way back to our seats while the rest of us waited for our drinks.

We all made it back to our seats before the second period started, and I handed Steph her drink when I sat next to her. Not long later Mitch was scoring the first goal for the Maple Leafs and we were all jumping around cheering as we celebrated Steph’s boy’s goal!

“Mitchy baby!” I screamed in Stephs ear as I jumped around with her. After that Nashville scored another goal leaving the second period with a score of 3-1. I knew the boys wouldn’t be happy with what the outcome was so far, but the girls and I were having a good time and the score wasn’t bothering us too much.

“You think Auston’s going to score?” Sara asked, leaning towards me so I could hear. I sent her a smirk as I shrugged.

“He told me he would, so I guess we'll have to see,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. Not long later the third period was starting. Three minutes into the period, Auston was scoring a goal.

“Yess!” I screamed jumping up from my seat. All the other girls jumped up with me cheering just as loudly. I pulled out my phone so I could try to take a quick video of the guys celebrating as well as us. We sat down when we started getting looks and only stood up to cheer again when Mitchy scored again. When the play finally slowed down again I turned to Steph.

“Did he score twice in the sheets too?” I whispered, letting out a loud laugh. Steph let out a laugh of her own as she slapped my shoulder.

“Shut up,” she joked.

After that, the game went by quickly with a loss of 6-3. We made our way outside of the arena and decided to head back to the hotel so we could change and have the guys meet with us there.

“Want a drink?” I asked Steph when we were in our room. I wasn't planning on changing so I was just going to have a drink while we waited. I grabbed my bluetooth speaker and turned on some music.

“Are you changing?” She asked as she pulled clothes out of her bag. I shook my head as I pulled a white claw out of the mini fridge.

“No, I have the perfect outfit on.”

“Okay, I’ll have one but I’m changing.”

I knew it was going to be silly that I was wearing a jersey, but I also knew that Auston wouldn’t mind and that he would love the lingerie underneath.

“Has Mitch texted you?” I asked, grabbing my phone. I had a few messages in my groupchat with Auston’s family but nothing from him.

“No, not yet.”

Almost twenty minutes later, I got a text from Auston saying he was one his way with the guys.

“They are on the way and I said we'd meet them in the lobby,” I told Steph as I read the message. Our hotel floor was impossible to get to without a key.

“Sounds good, I’m ready,” she said, making her way out of the bathroom. I grabbed my stuff and walked over to the door.

“Let’s go.”

—--

“Hey,” I said, walking up to Auston and wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He pulled me closer, taking a deep breath.

“I scored a goal for you,” he whispered.

“It was a pretty goal,” I said, pulling out of his hug and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Alright, let’s go!” Someone called out and the extremely big group of us walked out of the lobby (seriously there were probably almost twenty of us).

“You look so sexy,” Auston said as we were walking to the first bar. I blushed as I looked around. All the girls were wearing pretty revealing clothes and I was just in a jersey and jeans.

“You should see what’s underneath,” I teased. Auston’s hand immediately slipped under the jersey feeling the mesh of my lingerie.

“You're killin me smalls,” he groaned as he pulled his hand out.

“Only the best for you, Papi,” I joked. He blushed looking away.

“Is this bar good?” Petr asked, stopping in front of the Honky tonk Central. We all agreed and hopped in line.

“Mitch!” I cheered when I noticed him standing near us. He turned away from Steph with a smile.

“Hey Amelia! Great planning,” he said, gesturing to everyone. I grinned even wider as I shrugged my shoulders.

“Couldn’t go to Nashville without my girl,” I joked, pulling Steph to me. She easily folded into my hold, hugging me back.

“We're like two peas in a pod,” I joked. Auston and Mitch shared a look before letting out a laugh.

“Nice goals though!” I added pulling away from Steph and leaning back into Auston.

“Thanks!” He smiled happily.

“ID” the bouncer said, holding up a flashlight. I quickly pulled out mine, handing it over. Once we were all inside we decided to head up to a higher floor feeling too crowded on the first.

“Do you want a drink?” Auston asked when we arrived on the second flood.

“Sure but I’ll come with,” I said, tightening my hold on his hand. We walked over to the bar and there was an open seat so Auston helped me into it.

“I’m sorry you lost the game,” I told him, leaning my head against his chest.

“It’s whatever, I’m just happy you're here.”

I leaned my head up and puckered my lips so that he would kiss me. He got the hint immediately and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. When he pulled away, I turned to face the bar.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind and held his card in front of my face.

“I want a Stella. Get whatever you want.”

I nodded my head as I grabbed the card from his hand. He kept one hand resting on my waist, while the other returned to his side.

“This band is pretty good,” he said. Before I could respond, the bartender was asking for our order and I ordered the Stella and a Bud Light.

“Yeah, I like the music,” I grinned. The bartender set the receipt down and I turned to Auston.

“Do you want to sign or me?” I asked. He glanced down and grabbed the pen.

“Auston,” I gasped as I noticed he had tipped 50%

“I’m getting lucky tonight so they can too,” he said, pulling the beer up to take a long sip. I let out a laugh as I shook my head.

“Who says you're getting lucky?” I joked, pushing myself up from the stool. He followed after me to the dance floor where the rest of the group had gone.

“Hey,” I said, turning to face Auston so that we were dancing together.

“What's up?” he asked, leaning forward so his forehead was resting against mine.

“You looked so sexy on the ice,” I said, before pulling him down so that I could kiss him. The kiss quickly turned into a full on makeout in the middle of the dance floor. I could hear the group teasing us but we didn’t pull away.

“I love you, baby,” He said when he pulled away from the kiss. I knew that I was pretty drunk at this point and Auston could definitely tell.

“I’m going to request a song for you, babe. What do you want to hear?” Auston asked, swaying us back and forth slightly.

“That’s a lot of pressure!” I squealed, not sure what I wanted to hear.

“Anything,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“How about,” I paused thinking. “Love Story,” I grinned, turning to face him again.

“Let’s see if the band knows it. I’ll be right back.” He pushed me towards the group more so I wasn’t so alone when he left.

Five minutes later, Auston was slipping his arm around my waist again.

“They know it.”

“Alright next up we have a request from Auston for $100, hope you enjoy,” the lead singer of the band said. The rest of the band said thank you as they started playing their instruments. Our group started knowing the request was from Auston.

Auston twirled me around as we sang to the song.

Is this in my head? I don’t know what to think,

“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said,” I screamed as I knelt to the ground in front of Auston. I pulled the chain with the ring out and held it out in front of me. Our group was surrounding us cheering as we all sang along. Auston held his hands out in front of him as he sang along.

“Marry me Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone! I love you and that’s all I really know!” I screamed, pushing myself up into his arms. People around us were cheering and I let out a loud laugh as Auston spun me around.

“That was amazing,” The band said when the song was done. “Was there a proposal in the crowd,” one of the band members called. Everyone cheered loudly while Auston pulled me in closely.

“I’ll marry you any day,” Auston shouted into my ear before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. I leaned my intoxicated body into him knowing that he would support my weight.

“Give it up for the great song request,” the lead singer said. Everyone cheered and they started up the next song.

“That was cute,” Michael Bunting said, stepping over to Auston and I. We both had to lean closer so that we could hear him over the music.

“Well, we’re cute,” Auston responded, shrugging his shoulders. I let out a laugh as I pulled out of his grasp slightly to be closer to Bunting so I could hear.

“Amelia, that was probably one of the best proposals I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how I’ll ever top it,” he said, turning to face me. I let out a laugh as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I know a proposal that could top it,” I grinned, sending Auston a wink. His proposal was amazing. He smiled, giving my hand a squeeze.

“I’m sad your girlfriend couldn't come,” I said to Michael. He shrugged his shoulders.

“She was too, but she’s gotta work,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

I turned to Auston leaning toward to his ear so he could hear me.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I pulled away. He nodded his head.

“I’ll stay right here,” he said and then turned to Michael to talk to him. I pulled away and walked over to where a group of the girls had collected.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I told them hoping one of them would have to go.

“I’ll come with,” Ashley said. Penny seconded it right away. The three of us made our way to the bathroom and unfortunately there was a line.

“Are you having fun?” I asked the two as we waited.

“Yeah I love it,” Ashley grinned.

“Same but I want to try to go to another bar,” Penny said. I nodded my head as I thought about where else we could go.

We finally got a stall and all did our business before making our way back to the group. Everyone was pretty much finishing their drinks, so there were no complaints when we suggested going to another bar.

“You doing okay?” Auston asked as we walked to the next bar. We were walking side by side but weren’t touching. Feeling the need to fix that, I reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I’m perfect.” I smiled widely at him, he grinned right back.

“Good because I have plans for tonight,” Auston smirked.

—----

“C’mere,” Auston shouted over the music pulling me into his body so that I was grinding against him. I pushed my ass further against him as I continued to let music take over my body. Auston’s hands roamed my body so that they were under the jersey and feeling me through my lingerie.

“I want to get this jersey off of you,” he said loud enough for me to hear him.

“Then let's go to the hotel,” I said, turning around in his arms and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Okay,” Auston said. I grinned as I turned around again so that I could grind against him some more before we left. When I could feel him poking me from behind I pulled away and turned to face him.

“We have to say goodbye and make sure that Steph is going to Mitchy's room,” I said sternly. He nodded his head and we walked over to the group to say our goodbyes. When Steph confirmed that she was going to Mitchy's room, I went to find Auston.

“Ready?” I asked him. He nodded, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the bar. We walked to the hotel in comfortable silence and made it into the elevator before it was broken.

“I’m going to wreck you tonight,” Auston said. I let out a shocked gasp, looking up to him. We were standing side by side.

“Please” I whimpered, moving closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my waist lifting the jersey slightly to touch the lace underneath.

“The things I’m going to do to you will have you screaming,” he continued softly. I bit my lip as I looked at the elevator screen to see how far we were from our room. Three floors.

“When we get into the room, you're going to do what I say,” Auston said.

The doors opened and we walked to the room. I swiped the card and pushed the door open. As soon as the door was shut Auston was pulling me in and putting his lips on mine. He deepened the kiss quickly causing me to let out a whimper at what was going to happen tonight.

“Get on the bed,” he said deeply. I quickly followed his instructions and starfished on my back on the bed. Auston stood at the bottom of the bed looking me over. He grabbed a bag out of my bag that he had packed himself.

“I brought some special things,” he grinned, dropping the bag next to my head and crawling onto the bed so that he was leaning over me. He opened the bag and I stared in excitement.

He reached into the bag and the first thing he pulled out were two ropes. I held my breath as I stared at them. Auston had only tied me up two other times and they had both been at home.

“You okay with being tied up tonight?” He asked, reaching for my hands. He pulled back on second thought, and pulled off his clothes.

“I cant decide if I want to fuck you while you wear my jersey or not,” Auston said as he trailed his hand down to my jeans. He unbotted them and pulled them off. I whimpered as I pushed into his touch wanting his hands on my body.

“I think I want you naked,” he decided, reaching for the bottom of the jersey and pulling it off.

“I love that you wore it all night,” he praised, pressing a kiss to my cheek once he got it over my head. I blushed as I tried to look away but his hand on my chin kept me in place.

“This lingerie set is so beautiful and I don’t think I’ve seen it. So it must be new,” he grinned, leaning down and palming my breast.

“Aus, please,” I moaned.

“Please what? We haven't even started, baby,” he said, pulling away completely and reaching for the ropes. He tied both my wrists together before tying them to the bed.

“I’m about to have my way with you,” he taunted. I jerked my hands against the restraints and he glanced up to my wrist.

“Are your wrists okay? Too tight?” he questioned soft worry slipping into his voice.

“I’m perfect. They're perfect,” I gasped. He nodded, pushing my top aside so that he could attach his beautiful mouth to my breast. I gasped as he started sucking and biting. He hummed, moving his hand down my body before finding my folds. He pulled away looking down before returning his lips to my breast. He slipped a finger in easily moving it in and out. I let out a soft gasp as I tugged against my restraints.

“What do you want babe? Want me to get you off with my hands? Want me to eat you out before I put my dick in you?” he asked. I let out a moan at his words nodding my head.

“Well, which one is it?” he questioned with a smirk. “I’m not doing anything until you tell me.”

At this point my brain was starting to feel foggy. I tried to clear it the best I could as I thought about it.

“Auston,” I moaned, tugging my arms.

“Lucky for you I have more in the bag. He reached into the bag and pulled out my vibrator. I let out a soft gasp as I saw it. It was my most used sex toy when Auston was on the road and although I had used it a few times, we had never used it together. He turned it on and pressed it against my awaiting pussy. I let out a loud moan the second it touched me.

“Y’know I’ve been thinking about getting you a vibrating plug. Making you wear it in public when we go out to dinner.”

I let out another weak moan as I fantasized about him doing that to me.

“Would you like that?” He asked, moving the vibrator. I nodded my head as I couldn't form words.

“Amelia, I asked you a question. Would you like that?” He repeated, pulling the vibrator away.

“Yes, Auston,” I moaned loudly, tugging against my restraints again. I wanted him to keep touching me now.

“You'd just be open and ready for me and getting pleasure all throughout dinner. But I’d be in charge,” he said, pressing the vibrator harder against me. I felt my legs start to shake as I felt my orgasm travel through my body. Moments later I was coming with Auston’s name falling from my lips non stop. Auston grinned down at me as he watched me face my orgasm.

“Yes, baby. You look so gorgeous,” he grinned as he continued to press the vibrator against me. I flinched as it became too much. He noticed and turned it off pulling away. He continued to rub his hand against my sensitive area.

“Aus,” I screamed, arching my back.

“Yeah baby,” he asked softly, pressing his hand against my stomach and pressing me back into the mattress. He slipped two fingers into my pussy, fingering me slowly.

“You're so tight, you're going to feel so good stretched around my dick,” he said as he started to finger me faster. He slipped another finger in without warning, causing me to moan loudly. I tried to move but his other hand was still holding me down to the mattress.

“Auston, I’m ready,” I gasped. He tsk’d as he looked down at me.

“I think we can do four,” he said before pushing his fourth finger into me.

“Auston please,” I whined through my moans.

He grinned as he reached his hand down between his legs, grabbing his cock. He was already at full hardness with everything he had put me through. He jerked himself a few more times before getting on his knees and lining himself up with my entrance. He pushed my legs back so that I was almost folded completely in half. When he was lined up perfectly, he slowly pushed his way inside of me. I let out a loud gasp as I felt myself slowly adjust to him being inside of me.

“Auston,” I cried out at the intense pleasure I was feeling.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he reassured, leaning down to kiss my lips.

“Auston please,” I cried again. I wanted more and I wanted it now.

“Please what baby?” he asked softly.

“More,” I breathed. “Please give me more,” I begged. He adjusted his hands on my legs before fucking into me harder and faster.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I moaned as he pumped in and out of me.

“Faster,” I begged.

He let out a groan as he tried to pick up his pace. Just as I felt like I was about to orgasm again, he pulled out completely and I let out a loud cry at the loss.

“Auston,” I screamed through my sobs.

“Shh baby. I’m right here.”

He reached up and untied my hands, taking the ropes off completely. He then pulled my lingerie all the way off before laying on his back.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me onto his lap.

“Do you think you can hop up?” he asked, pointing to his dick. I let out a soft whine as I slowly moved onto him.

“Don’t worry I’ll do all the work,” he said. I settled on top of him, his dick pushing into me until we were flush against each other.

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded my head as I pressed my hands against his chest to hold me up. He started fucking up into me in a quick rythm that had me crying out in pleasure.

“That’s it,” I screamed as he hit my spot continuously.

“Let go baby,” he mumbled, sending me over the edge. I found myself gasping on him as my walls tightened around him. Seconds later, he was coming himself and I fell against his chest, no longer able to hold myself up. His arms wrapped around me holding me tight against his chest as I let out little sobs as the pleasure continued to flow through my body.

“I’ve got you,” he said, tightening his arms.

“You did so good, baby,” he mumbled, pulling my face up so that he could press a kiss to my lips. I was so out of it that I barely kissed him back. I pushed myself up before pulling off his dick. I let out a gasp as we disconnected and his cum leaked out of my pussy. When we were no longer connected I fell onto my stomach next to him on the bed.

“That was amazing,” I said a few minutes later when I had finally gathered my thoughts. Austons hand that was rubbing my back paused before continuing its movement.

“So amazing,” he grinned. I pulled my face out of the pillow to look at him.

“I love you so much,” I said softly. He grinned, leaning over to kiss me.

“I love you too. We should shower though,” he said, pushing himself up. I let out a whine but nodded my head pushing myself up.

“I’m exhausted,” I said. He nodded, leading me into the bathroom. We showered together and Auston washed my body and hair for me before helping me back into bed.

“Roll onto your side,” I said, pushing myself against him so he was a little spoon.

“Sleep tight, baby,” Auston mumbled as he relaxed into my hold.

“You too,” I whispered into his ear and pressed a kiss to his head.

—---

“Morning,” I grinned as I lifted my head from Auston’s shoulder. He looked as though he had been up for a while and he was looking at his phone.

“Morning,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips.

“Mitch and Steph are on their way back,” he groaned as he looked back at his phone. I nodded my head, sitting up so I could look for some clothes to put on. Auston had already redressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. I grabbed the closest thing I could, which happened to be one of Auston’s hoodies.

I pulled it on and curled back into the sheets. Auston leaned over to me so he could kiss me some more. Not even five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Auston opened it up to Steph and Mitch.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Auston called out making his way out of the room with Mitch.

Steph grinned as she walked over to her bed and stared at me.

“How was the sex?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. I let out a loud laugh as I curled into my sheets.

“Good.”

A.N. Thanks for reading hope you liked it and let me know what you thought or if you want to request something! Also OMG That game!!!! The hatty! the win! So happy!!

[ahundredtimesover]

Inevitable (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.7k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I do love me some angst but I enjoy writing soft moments just as much. I hope you enjoy this one, too! Thank you for the appreciation for this story :) Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

##

The place that Jungkook chose is a little French cafe that has a light and airy feel to it, and you think it’ll help Jungwon feel a little less intimated. There also aren’t many people around, which is surprising for a Saturday brunch hour. 

You make out the table far back, by the glass window where you can see the flowers outside. Next to Jungkook is Jin, then Namjoon and Ara. The empty seats reserved for you and Jungwon are those in front of Jungkook and beside him.

You approach them, with everyone except for Jungkook - who just nods at you - standing up to give you a hug, with Jin spending more time than usual. With everything that’s happened, you didn’t realize how much you’ve missed your friends, too. They were collaterals of this whole ordeal; now you’re glad that you feel like starting over with them as well.

Jungwon stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist when Jin comes close. He’s an unfamiliar face so it’s natural for the little one to be shy and hide behind you, like what he usually does, but he loosens up when you talk to him and make him feel comfortable, so you excuse yourself because you want him to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

You find an empty chair by the wall and sit Jungwon there.

“Hey sweetcheeks, we’re going to meet some of Mama’s friends, okay? They’re new people but they’re very kind and funny,” you say, kneeling down in front of him. 

You get the brown backpack he’s wearing and take out his stuffed elephant, one of his many playmates that he likes to bring around. You place Mr. Choochoo in his arms, explain to him what you’ll do and that he can have some sweets later. 

“Okay, Mama. I want some cookies,” he says in his tiny voice. 

You tell him you’ll order some and pinch his cheeks, then you kiss his forehead, causing him to giggle, and you kiss him some more because you know this also makes him feel relaxed. 

Jungkook watches from afar, the pang on his chest reminding him of the time lost, and he wonders if he’ll ever be like that with his own son. Jungwon is at a critical stage where trust is being developed, and Jungkook wants to be someone whom his son can trust. 

The feeling in his chest grows as you approach them again. You give him a smile and help seat Jungwon next to his father.

“You remember the other day when you broke your airplane? Someone fixed it for you, right?” You ask.

Jungwon nods, eyes still focused on you.

“Good, because he’s here. Look,” you say, pointing to Jungkook. “He’s the kind man who helped you.”

Jungwon turns and looks at Jungkook, who returns his curious gaze with a grin. The little one is probably familiarizing himself with the man in front of him, as he nods and shyly smiles. 

“Hi, buddy. I’m Jungkook,” he says and waves. “What’s your name?”

“Jungwon,” he whispers.

“How old are you?”

He responds by raising his hand to show four fingers. 

“And when’s your birthday?”

“July 6!” Right as he answers, it registers to him, causing him to beam, the kind that reaches his cheeks and Jungkook’s heart is soaring. And just like that, the pang in his chest is gone.

You mirror Jungwon’s smile, knowing that’s enough of an icebreaker. He’s a sensitive kid who remembers kindness, and that day at the grocery, he saw it in Jungkook. You could chalk it up to some father-son connection if you like, but you also know that Jungwon tends to gravitate towards other gentle people, too.

The brunch goes surprisingly well, with Namjoon directing the conversations, knowing that it would still take some time to really settle into what was once familiar. 

Days like this used to be a weekly engagement filled with jokes and unfiltered comments and hand holding between you and Jungkook, but everyone seems to be careful, reserved, almost unsure, like the glass will break at any wrong move. 

Perhaps you’re all just giving this time for both father and son to be familiar and comfortable with each other. You know it will take a while but it’s something you don’t mind at all. 

Jin is talking about his recent trip to Japan and his new ideas for another restaurant and you’re engrossed in his stories, until soft laughter catches your attention. 

You turn to Jungwon, who’s laughing at Jungkook as he uses the macarons for eyes and makes weird faces, the latter pulling the sweets apart into smaller pieces and giving them to Jungwon who easily chews them. He offers Jungkook pieces of his cookies too, who dramatically devours them.

“My cookies!” Jungwon giggles.

You soften at the sight and excuse yourself before tears pour out and you will yourself to get it together in the washroom. You knew it was going to be a heartwarming proper meeting of the two but you weren’t ready for that kind of moment. 

For all his shyness, Jungwon seems to be really comfortable with Jungkook, who’s doing so well, too, letting your child take the lead, not forcing anything, and being his usual sweet self. 

Soon enough, brunch is over and you inform them of having to leave right away to make it to Jungwon’s dentist appointment in time. You place him in the car seat and turn to Jungkook, who’s now able to properly look at you, probably for the first time this whole day.

He opens his mouth to say something but his eyes lock in on your neck instead, a familiar piece of jewelry gracing the delicate feature. He stills and you’re confused, until you realize he’s looking at the necklace you’re wearing, the one with the moon and stars that he’d given you on your first year anniversary. 

He told you that it was because you light his darkest nights and you squirmed at the cheesiness, smacking his arm and threatening him of getting rid of it if he ever spewed disgusting shit like that again. He loved that reaction, but deep down, you both knew that he was telling the truth. 

It was that piece of him you could keep to yourself, one you didn’t have to share nor explain to anyone else. Out of everything you kept of your time together, the necklace was the only thing that didn’t make you break down every time.

You keep your thoughts at bay then nod at him and ask him what he meant to say.

“I’d really like to do this more,” he utters, eyes on your face now. “And not just on weekends. Whenever we can work out a schedule, that would be great. I mean, he and I have so much to—“

“Of course, Jungkook,” you cut him off, knowing he meant to say that there’s so much time to make up for and you don’t want today’s meeting to end on that note. “Let’s work something out, I’m sure Jungwon would love that, too.”

You exchange numbers, as well as awkward smiles, like you’re some teenagers saying goodbye on their first date. It’s a little refreshing though - way better than the last time when he was shouting and crying in front of you. 

Any passerby may think it’s the makings of a romantic relationship, but if they only knew. You loved this man, and quite frankly, you’re unsure if you ever stopped.

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You finally say.

“Okay then. I’ll see you.”

**

It’s not lost on you and Jungkook that you’re both on very unfamiliar territory. 

During your time together, you’d had moments wherein you weren’t particularly fond of each other or weren’t in the mood yet had been comfortable in the silence. The tension was never overwhelming and you just let the moment pass until all was good again. 

The longest fight you had lasted for 3 days. Yoongi called for a celebratory dinner over his song making it to the top of the charts and you were ignoring Jungkook, who sat next to you talking to your other friends. 

It was  an hour later when he eventually pulled you in a hug, and whispered that he missed you and won’t be drinking banana milk for a whole week as punishment for accidentally deleting your entire midterm paper. You caved in then, laughed and deemed it punishment enough, and spent the rest of the night working on said paper in your dorm, a behaved Jungkook playing mobile games next to you.

When it came to both of you, no silence was too loud, no conversation was ever unwanted, and no moment was ever too tense and uncomfortable. 

Except for that time in your apartment. 

And maybe now, when you’re both seated in front of each other, Jungwon to your left and of all times, decided that he just has to finish coloring the butterfly from his art class. There are two seats that have been empty the past 15 minutes, and you and Jungkook have been engulfed in the most awkward silence there is, even with the background chatter of the restaurant you’re in.

Days after the brunch and official meet up almost two weeks ago, Jungkook had asked to grab dinner - you picked up Jungwon from daycare after you were off at 6PM and headed to the restaurant with Taehyung in tow, only to find Jimin accompanying his best friend. Two days later, the same thing happened, only with Namjoon and Jin that time. 

The Sunday after that, you had both Namjoon and Taehyung with you - because your brother wouldn’t confirm immediately and you needed a backup - as you and Jungwon walked to the park, only to find Jin and Jimin there as well. Everyone, of course, burst out laughing but neither you nor Jungkook found it funny. 

“What are we, your chaperones?” Jin had asked then, laughing at the whole situation upon realizing what you and Jungkook had both been up to, calling up friends to join you on the weekly father-and-son dates. “You’re both adults who can very well manage conversations, don’t you think?” Jin continued.

You and Jungkook had shyly stolen glances at each other, nervous to be caught looking at the other’s reaction, because Jin had been right. You can only wonder what Jungkook's reasons are but you were calling them up to accompany you because you don’t actually know how to carry a conversation with Jungkook anymore. 

You don’t know what to say that isn’t an apology, you’re nervous to talk about Jungwon and make Jungkook feel bad again for how much he’s missed out on, and you can’t really talk about yourself because this isn’t about you - it’s about your son and the relationship he needs to develop with his father.

Never mind the feeling of longing, of the curiosity over what made Jungkook come home, of the interest in his life in the US and how he’s been doing. 

Never mind that you want to hug him because everything has been overwhelming and Jungkook always knew how to make you feel better with his hugs and caresses. You don’t have that right anymore, you think. You don’t have the right to ask about his life after you broke his heart, you don’t have the right to miss him, nor to get to know him all over again. 

You need your brother and your best friend not just to carry conversations but also as support when you feel weak, as you observe Jungwon be so natural around his father. 

Jungkook had only introduced himself by his name but Jungwon had taken to calling him Cookie Monster since their moment during that first brunch. No uncle, no anything, and you hope it stays that way. 

Jungkook had also been bringing different brands of chocolate milk and you’d overheard him describe the taste and texture like a 4 year old would understand, and Jungwon had been asking you to buy each brand that Jungkook had introduced. 

You'd heard him ask your son about his favorite animals, what he likes to eat when he’s sad or happy, and what his favorite bedtime stories are. You’d felt your heart balloon in size at this, how careful and thoughtful Jungkook still is, how gentle and caring, and how careful, seeing as he stops himself from ruffling Jungwon’s hair or engulfing him in a hug. 

You felt like crying when you’d seen your son answer every question with enthusiasm then ask Jungkook the same things, too, and even more when he finishes coloring and tugs Jungkook to ask if he likes it.

It’s those moments that break and hold you up at the same time. It hurts to be reminded of what you deprived them of but it’s also comforting to see how natural everything has been for them. 

Jungwon is shy but gravitates towards those he connects with, that he feels comfortable around, people who are like him. It’s why he’s very fond of Taehyung, and why he runs to Namjoon to be carried on his shoulder or to be tossed in the air because your brother may be serious yet clumsy but he’s careful and gentle when it comes to your son.

You used to think that if you hadn’t been a single parent, Jungwon wouldn’t be as close to you, seeing your lack of gentleness. You’d only learned to be so because you’d treated him like a fragile being, out of the fear of what would’ve happened if the fetal distress wasn’t detected as early as it was. If anything, your son has taught you to be more tender, affectionate, more loving.

You cried so many nights in the room you shared with him, and you wanted to believe that his lack of crying as an infant was because he was giving you the time and space for it, that it was okay. He was quiet, barely caused trouble, and you also believed it was his way of telling you that you can depend on him not to make things too hard, too. You’d held him so tightly every night as he grew older, and he learned to do the same. 

In the moments that he'd caught you breaking down because of work or other things, he’d climb on your lap and hug and kiss you until you stopped crying. Like that one time when you randomly went on social media and saw the engagement rumors between Jungkook and Korean-American model-actress Maia Park. It was two years ago. It’s what also convinced you to finally, finally let Jungkook go and move on. 

Jungwon hugged you until he fell asleep, and you hugged him even tighter, as the hope of you three being a complete family died that day. Since then, you’d stopped checking social media and stopped religiously following the Dodgers’ games, only using them as background noise since Jungwon somehow found throwing and hitting balls amusing. Like father, like son, you used to think. 

You don’t realize you’d reminisced again until your phone beeps, the same time as Jungkook’s does. You’ve been in this restaurant for over 15 minutes and your friends are never late.

“Jimin says that he was asked to stay for costume fitting,” Jungkook says, reading the text message.

“Taehyung says that he tripped on a block and ended up splashing the entire paint can he was holding on his wall and it looks like the shape of a pretty tree and now he’s filled with inspiration and wants to repaint it,” you say in one breath, causing Jungkook to laugh at your deep exhale after.

“Hmm, very original,” he says.

“Very Taehyung, you mean. At least Jimin’s excuse is more believable,” you answer back.

“Well, they pulled the stops tonight, didn’t they? Reminds me of that time when Yoongi treated all of us because his song topped the charts. He said that he actually just had a minimal role and that wasn’t a cause for a celebration,” Jungkook shrugs. “You’d been mad at me for days and I kept complaining so they admitted setting it up so we could see each other.”

“Are you serious? All this time? I was so proud of Yoongi for that, kept bragging to my friends that he was big time because of that song,” you laugh, willing your heart to not go overboard with its beating because the most that Jungkook has spoken to you when he wasn’t angry, it’s to recall a memory of you together. 

“Well, they tricked us then but they’re very transparent right now.”

You laugh again and you pinch yourself for overreacting to not-so-funny statements. You hate that even after all this time, Jungkook still makes you feel giddy. Now, there’s just an added desire for him to pay attention, for you to impress him, a complete opposite of how you started years ago.

It’s silent for a while, and you and Jungkook turn to Jungwon at the same time, probably thinking the same thing that the kid will be your distraction but his eyes have been focused on the butterfly, and he’s not budging. Not even when you ask how he’s doing because he just replies with a hum and you know that’s code for don’t disturb me, I’m busy. 

“We should order,” Jungkook finally says, and it takes another couple of minutes before you both decide on what you’ll have. 

With no other source of distraction, Jungkook settles on making the first move.

“So… how are things? How’s work?” He asks, sipping on his glass of water like it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

“Good. I, uhm, work for an events management company so we do parties, fundraisers, bazaars, things like that. It’s a lot of work but my boss is very kind and lets me take some days off to compensate for working on weekends and stuff,” you respond, willing yourself to be more comfortable.

“Oh, so it’s not the marketing firm anymore, that’s great. Namjoon said you worked over 12 hours then and I can’t imagine how tiring that must be.”

“You talked to my brother… about me?” You ask, trying not to read into it much. You assumed they only talked about meeting Jungwon, but Namjoon never mentioned anything more and you wonder why.

“Yeah, I just, uh…” Jungkook stammers, trying to come up with an excuse but he knows you’ll see right through him.

“I just asked how things were for you during uh, the pregnancy, and after.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know if there were any issues with Jungwon’s birth, you know? Wanted to know if he got everything he needed…”

You wince at the insinuation that you wouldn’t make sure that Jungwon would get everything he needed and Jungkook picks up on this and tries to save himself before it’s too late, before you think he’s an asshole for making such an assumption.

“I mean, of course he did. Not that I don’t think you didn’t make sure he got the best of everything.”

“I tried my best, Jungkook, and you’ve spent time with Jungwon. He’s doing well, I’d like to think that has much to do with how I raised him,” you say, your tone a mix of sadness and anger. You never had to defend yourself for how you raised your child, especially not to his father. But you also can’t blame Jungkook, especially when you’re the one who didn’t make him a part of your son’s life. 

“I know, he’s such a smart and kind child. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t do your best. That came out wrong, I’m sorry,” he says, and you believe him. “I guess I just wanted to ask if there was anything lacking or that needed extra attention so I’d know what to compensate for, like medical bills or vitamins or other things?” 

He’s right, and it makes sense. It definitely has nothing to do with him asking how you were doing, how the pregnancy and the aftermath was like for you. 

“What about school? Other activities like sports or art clubs? Maybe he’s into music, we can enroll him in—”

“Jungkook…”

“Please don’t tell me not to help financially because you know I will. Not just because I’m obligated to but because I want to,” he sighs.

“Yeah, I guess we need to talk about that…” You say nervously.

“I can cover everything he needs. Does he need to switch to a better school? He’ll be in primary school next year, right? Are there other toys he wants? Maybe I can—“

“I’m doing perfectly fine in providing those, Jungkook. He doesn’t need ‘more’ or ‘better.’”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, I’m just saying I can help so that…”

He holds your gaze, knowing he can’t make you feel like he’s antagonizing you. When he asked Namjoon what you went through, he admits he wanted to feel some form of pity, as if to mask or replace the overwhelming feeling of pain and anger. Anything would’ve been better than those. 

After that, the feeling turned to sadness, to helplessness, like defeat, knowing there was nothing he could’ve done to make it easier for you, to make you understand that you didn’t have to do it all by yourself just because you made a decision all on your own.

Having spent even just a short amount of time with Jungwon, he knows that his son was very much loved, was given all the best things in the world and that’s because of you - you who refused to give him less, you who worked so hard and gave everything you could, running on the sheer amount of love you have for your child even if things were difficult. Jungkook doesn’t want you to feel alone, especially in providing for Jungwon. 

What Namjoon said hit him, how you only ever asked help if it was about your son, but never when it was about you. Jungkook knows you still wouldn’t, so he’ll make sure to ease the financial burden, the worry, the stress, the amount of time you spend taking care of your child that’s taken away from the time you spend taking care of yourself. 

Because he’s noticed - he’s noticed the bags under your eyes, the slight shaking of your hands that’s probably from the excessive amount of caffeine intake, your work phone that constantly buzzes even when you’re off the clock, your consumption of sodas that signifies your heightened stress. 

There’s a droopiness to your face, a mark of tiredness that’s laid permanent residence in your whole being. He doesn’t even wanna ask when the last time you had proper rest was. 

“I’m saying I can and want to help so you can have time for yourself, too,” he continues. “So you won’t feel the need to clock in extra hours or take extra jobs, so you can have actual time of not worrying about anything. I mean, kids can sense if their parents are stressed and they can acquire that...”

Your eyes widen at his statement again, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration because he’s really not saying this the way he wants to, but then he also doesn’t know how to tell you these things without him sounding like he believes you’re not good enough for Jungwon. Because you are, more than he can imagine. 

“I’m terrible at this,” Jungkook says.

But you laugh. You laugh because he looks stressed and worried over what he’s telling you but you get him. Mad as he was a few weeks ago, you know he’d never harbor such terrible feelings towards you to the point of doubting your capabilities as a mother. 

You wish he means more, though, but you settle for this. He will help in all ways he can because he doesn’t want you to be too stressed out. Jungwon is at the age where he can pick these things up; your habits are things he can acquire and you don’t want that.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you smile, and it’s the softest one you’ve given Jungkook since he’s arrived. 

“Jungwon will be starting primary school next year so there’s this kindergarten I saw; they balance the learning with the arts really well and they do a lot of field trips and I think it’s a good transition to first grade.”

“That sounds really good. So that’s where you plan to enroll him this fall?”

“Yeah. It’s private though, and it’s affiliated with the primary school I was hoping to enroll him in next year, that’s also private. I was gonna get a loan from the bank and—”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I can take care of his fees in kindergarten and daycare too, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s too much, Jungkook.”

“It’s not. You’ve worked too hard the past 5 years. You can take care of the other essentials because you know him best. Let me take care of the others, and vitamins too and check ups and stuff. Please.”

He’s insistent and you know he won’t budge. You also know it’s his right and obligation to do all this.

“Okay, then. Whatever I save can go to his college fund.”

“Which I’ll also be contributing to…”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you smile. 

The food arrives and the silence isn’t as suffocating. It’s a first step, deciding on the financial aspect of raising your child. You know there are many others, but there’s definitely one very important one to discuss.

Jungkook clears his throat and peeks at Jungwon who’s busy with his stew, mindless of the others around him, with you constantly wiping his cheeks and reminding him to drink his water. You turn to Jungkook with a curious gaze.

“When can we uh, tell him about me?”

Of course. When will you tell your son that Cookie Monster is actually his father? 

“Oh, uhm. Well. He’s definitely comfortable around you already. But I think it’ll take some more time. I don’t wanna rush him because it’s big news since it’s just been me and his uncle Taehyung and uncle Namjoon for a long time and…”

“No one else?”

“What do you mean, no one else? I mean of course there’s Jimin but they don’t see each other as much and…”

“You know what I mean,” he says softly, as if he doesn’t want to directly say it.

“Oh. Uhm. Well, I dated someone before but like, it wasn’t—“

“Did he want to be Jungwon’s father? Did Jungwon like him?”

“I don’t introduce men I go out with to Jungwon, Jungkook. I mean, the men know I have a son but I never introduce them.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you need to ask? It’s only you. It’s always just gonna be you.” 

“Has he asked about… me?”

“Just twice. He’s curious but he doesn’t dwell on it.”

Jungkook just nods, taking everything in.

“I always planned on telling you, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I just needed the right time, and I had to figure it out especially after your en…” You pause, hoping not to open this can of worms because things are already going well.

“My what?”

“Your supposed engagement with…”

“Those were rumors, ___. We were never engaged, never planned on it,” he corrects.

“So you two aren’t…?”

“We broke up over a year ago.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Relieved?” He smirks.

“Just thought that, you know, Jungwon will have another mother and he’ll call her like, Mommy or Mother or something and she might be more fun and gorgeous and—“

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts your rambling. He chooses not to comment on your now glassy eyes, which stare at his hand that’s found itself on top of yours. He immediately removes it and calls for you to look at him.

“That’s not happening, okay? And if I did marry someone else, that woman will just be a stepmother by name. You’re Jungwon’s mother, the only one. No one will be more fun and gorgeous in his eyes, you got that?”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

You decide to dial it back before your thoughts go elsewhere. “But going back to your question, let’s play it by ear, is that okay? He’s very attentive so he’ll maybe ask more about you one day. I also don’t want to rush him.”

“Sure, I mean. I don’t wanna scare him away too. We’ve been making progress.”

“I know! He’s very natural around you.”

“Doesn’t mind me when he’s coloring or eating, though,” Jungkook pouts.

“You’re not alone in that,” you laugh. “This one time, he was coloring this picture of a unicorn and I was trying to get his attention because it had been a long day and I wanted a hug and he shushed me and told me to be quiet. Like, this little kid really shushed me, huh?”

“Is he really as sweet as we believe him to be?” Jungkook laughs.

“Actually, when he was finished, he went to my lap and hugged and kissed me, told me not to be sad anymore.”

“Okay I’ll never doubt him again,” he smiles.

“And then there was one time, I baked muffins and I asked him to try so he was nibbling the edges, then the crown. And he was taking his time! And I kept asking if it was good and he was just humming until there was just the center left that had some chocolate custard and he ate it in one bite and was just smiling at me then…”

You pause at Jungkook’s longing smile, the kind where he’s happy but also wishes he’d been there.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“No, no. Please. I wanna hear these stories. Don’t hold back. Don’t mind how I react,” Jungkook explains. “At least I won’t have to imagine how he was like growing up.”

Your heart warms at this, at the shift from the angry man the other week to one who’s now softening at the stories of your son, something that’s making you feel a hundred times better. 

Jungkook meant it when he said that he just wants to focus on what happens next. He’s spent so many sleepless nights thinking about the night of the break up, what went wrong, how different things would be, all the what if’s in your relationship, and in his relationship with his son. 

He has let himself feel all the negative emotions towards you and he didn’t like it, didn’t like that he could feel all that for the woman who’d been his world, his light, the love of his life. He doesn’t want to focus anymore on the time lost but on the time he can make up for, for the time that he now has. 

You indulge him, tell him stories about Jungwon, how he was a little late with talking and used to write letters from right to left, how you worried about this but how it was easily addressed, being that Ara is a developmental pediatrician and had taught you different practices to ensure his speech and cognitive skills are in tune with his developmental stage. 

You talk about his first steps, his first trip to the park, and how he’s afraid of the water - just like his mother, Jungkook says. You talk about how he likes fish so much so he doesn’t eat them, but that he loves vegetables and would only throw tantrums if he doesn’t get to eat sweets. 

And you talk about how respectful he is, charming in his own shy and soft ways but a fighter all the same, how he’s very smart and can do many things on his own.

“He really took the best parts of us, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, as he looks at Jungwon who’s coloring a ladybug this time. “Strong and independent like you, charming and cute like me?”

You burst into laughter. “You think those are your best qualities?” You ask.

“I mean there’s more and I could definitely list them all now but also, look at him! He’s so adorable, and he got that from me!”

“He is, and he did get that from you, I won’t lie,” you say, something that you always thought about, how the universe was cruel and wonderful at the same time for gifting you a child who looks just like the man you loved with all your heart, who reminded you everyday of what you lost and of, ironically, what you still had. 

“He has your lips, though, and those scrunched eyebrows when he’s focused,” he points out, and he says it with so much affection. “I’m sure there’s more he got from you and I can't wait to discover them all.”

“Me, too, Jungkook. Me too,” you say, ignoring the thrumming of your heart.

It’s Jungwon’s yawn that forces you and Jungkook out of your bubble again, not realizing the time that’s passed. You’re glad you had an early clock out today so at least it’s not yet too late and the little one can make it to bed on time. 

The dinner ends and Jungkook walks you and a sleepy Jungwon to your car, the silence a welcome one this time.

“So, I have a busy rest of the week so uhm, can we meet on Saturday? There’s a park with this cool playground near my apartment; I think Jungwon will like it there. We can have lunch after,” Jungkook says as you close the backseat door.

“Of course! Just text me the address and the time and we’ll be there,” you respond, liking this new dynamic between the both of you, texting each other on when and where to meet, freed up schedules and all. 

You both stand there awkwardly though, unsure how exactly to end the night, given that your friends had ditched you both. Your phones beeping saves you this time.

“How was it?” You and Jungkook say at the same time.

“They’re not even being subtle about it,” he laughs. 

“I bet they’re actually together right now, thinking of the best time to message,” you say.

“Probably not expecting we’d go on this long, too,” he mumbles, peering up to look at you with that shy smile of his, and you hope there’s no physical manifestation of how flushed you are right now.

“It was a good night. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, too. So, uh, I’ll go ahead,” he says, then nods and turns away. It was a good night, and it was the first time that he felt comfortable, light. Like things were okay, like things are really going to get better. 

His mind goes back to weeks ago at your apartment - how he acted, the anger seeping through him, and how you looked - tears falling helplessly down your cheeks, a sight he’s never seen before, and one he doesn’t want to see again. He couldn’t hold you then, he didn’t have the mind nor the heart to. He’s not sure if he’s ready now, so he settles with words instead.

“___,” he calls out.

You turn around, not really expecting anything else, and for a moment, your heart stops beating.

He walks towards you with a shy look on his face, although his eyes avoid yours.

“I just, uh. I just wanted to apologize for that day at your apartment when I—“

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Just let me, please,” he interjects you this time, his voice soft, and a long breath escapes him. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t accept it. You shouldn’t be sorry for the things you said because they’re what you felt. They’re warranted and—“

“Then I’m sorry for how I said them. That’s, that’s not who I am. You didn’t deserve that,” he stammers.

“I did,” you respond, and there’s a pang in his chest at your resigned tone. “And it’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.”

“I know I’ll never truly understand why, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

“He might’ve been unplanned but it doesn’t mean he’s a mistake. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say, meeting his eyes.

It’s a moment you share that needs no words, and Jungkook nods and leaves it at that because deep in his heart, he knows that Jungwon is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” He says.

You mumble an okay and head out, forcing yourself to stop smiling like an idiot the whole drive back home.

[To: Jungkook] We’re home. Thank you again.

[From: Jungkook] Alright! I had a really good time tonight. Sleep well, you two. Good night :) 

And with that, you don’t stop smiling like an idiot until you fall asleep.

**

You trip over trains and dolls on the floor, hastily putting them in the box that houses most of Jungwon’s toys. You place all the laundry in the washing machine, quickly fix your bed, and remove the clutter on the coffee table. 

By some not-so-great turn of events, you had a client schedule a 2PM meeting on a Saturday that you couldn’t turn down, which meant that you then had to meet your team at 11AM to prepare. 

You’re glad that Jungkook didn’t make a fuss about it when you called him in the morning, saying that you can’t make it to the park like you agreed to do. You trust him dearly but it’s still too early in the getting-to-know-you stage, so you’re not sure how Jungwon will take it if he spends the day with Jungkook without you. You expected him to reschedule but said his Sunday is full and asked if he could just go to your place instead.

“He and I can just play or watch cartoons, is that okay? I was really hoping to spend today with him but if it’s too much, that’s fine,” Jungkook said over the phone.

You didn’t have the heart to turn him down so you agreed. 

You tried to do whatever cleaning up you can manage because you didn’t want him to judge you for still being a little messy and you wanted everything organized while you focused on your meetings.

With Jungwon bathed and with snacks placed on the table, you think you’re ready for your guest, who should be arriving right about now.

The doorbell rings and it’s a familiar sight, but a welcome one. You lead Jungkook in, tell him it’s just a humble one-bedroom apartment and he waves you off. He settles the lunch he bought on the table - noodles and seafood pancakes, Jungwon’s favorites, you'd mentioned. 

“He’s in the room, I’ll go get him,” you say, and walk the several steps to your bedroom.

Jungkook looks around and takes it in. He was too angry the last time he was here so he didn’t pay much attention. It’s pretty clean, he thinks, and laughs at the thought that you probably did a quick clean up before he arrived since you’re not usually this organized. Or maybe that’s changed with you too, as with other things. 

“Hey, buddy,” Jungkook greets. He kneels and tells Jungwon that they’ll be spending time today while Mama works and Jungwon says he’s excited. He leads Jungkook to your not-so-grand living room and takes out some dinosaurs from one box, mumbling about them being in trouble, then opens another one. 

“Then Ironman saves them all!” Jungwon announces. 

The look on Jungkook’s face is unrivaled, the kind you secretly have been hoping for, hence why you deliberately kept this from him; you wanted Jungwon to be the one to reveal his undying love for the superhero. You’re surprised he’s never mentioned it before, but you also think that he wanted to show-off his toy collection first.

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Jungkook tells you. “He… We… We both believe in Ironman supremacy, ___. He’s really my—”

You nudge his shoulder before he prematurely reveals the truth, and you laugh at his expression and his wide eyes as he goes through the Ironman box because of course it has its own, as all the toys are delicately placed inside. 

Jungkook is in awe but really, it’s not much. They’re all just different versions of the same dolls and cars. You’ve tried to limit this because Jungwon will outgrow them at one point, but thinking about Jungkook’s continued love for the superhero, you think Jungwon actually might not.

The two get in their groove immediately and sit side-by-side, Jungwon introducing each of his toys because each Ironman has a different name. Jungkook indulges him and starts making sounds and Jungwon joins him until it’s just a chorus of pppshssss and bangbangbang and pfffffftpboom and you can’t help but laugh along. 

Taehyung always deemed those superhero movies to be too loud so he wasn’t into the toys either, and Namjoon would always end up explaining the science and ethics of superpowers as if his nephew is one of his college students, so for Jungwon to have someone who just gets him, even if it’s just about making sounds and making Ironman toys fly and protect the dinosaurs from a meteor, you’re happy that the little one is happy.

You leave them for a while and set the table, asking them over to eat with neither one standing up.

“Kids,” you call their attention, hands on your waist now. “Can we have lunch now please before Mama has to get ready for work?”

This feels so domestic and so real. You miss the way Jungkook’s lips form into a smile as you refer to yourself in third person and sound as if you’re reprimanding them. Since Jungkook has found out about Jungwon, he never imagined he’d actually get to experience this.

You clear your throat and it’s a sign for Jungkook that he has to follow, as the adult, so he gets the little one’s attention and brings all the toys on the table to join you three as you eat. 

It’s hilarious as they both converse with their toys and essentially leave you out but you let them, choosing instead to bask in this scene and the joy painted on both their faces. You wish this moment together wouldn’t end, though, but you also know that may be too much to ask. Jungkook is here to get to know your son, and that’s that.

You let them settle in the living room as you go from one meeting to another, stealing glances every once in a while just so you’ll have another memory of them bonding seared in your brain, for times when you need to feel better, when you want to feel happy. 

The rest of the afternoon goes that way. They go from saving the dinosaurs, to watching cartoons, then playing with blocks, earning them scowls and laughter every time those tip over and crash, creating loud sounds and distracting your work. But you smile immediately at their panicked and guilty faces, until they proceed to do the same thing.

It’s around 5PM when you finish, exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungwon surprisingly still has energy, but you see him forcing it because he wants to keep playing.

“Let’s go for an early dinner, yeah? I can order some pizza then you two can start preparing for bed,” Jungkook offers. 

You mindlessly nod from the dining table as you put away your laptop and notebook. “That sounds good, Jungkook. Thank you,” you respond.

“And maybe you can take a nap first while we wait. I’ll help him clean up the mess, too.”

You smile at this. Despite everything, he’s still the same thoughtful and considerate man you met all those years ago. You nod and head to them, kneeling in front of Jungwon who’s now sitting so closely to Jungkook.

“Hey, sweetcheeks. Mama’s tired so I’ll just get some rest, okay? You’ll be fine with Cookie Monster over here?” You ask.

“Yes, Mama,” he says, and proceeds to hug you and kiss your nose. 

“Okay, love you my little bug,” you say, and head to your room for a quick nap, not before you call out that Jungwon only eats cheese pizza.

**

It’s the knock on your bedroom door that wakes you, signaling that the food has arrived.

You head to the dining room, still clad in your leggings and pink sweatshirt, and Jungkook does a double take at your sleepy eyes, scrunched up nose, and messy hair. You’re still so adorable after a nap, but he shakes off the thought before you catch him with a silly smile on his face.

It’s Jungwon’s elephant and tiger stuffed toys having dinner with you this time, and unlike earlier in the day, there’s less theatrics and you all settle on small conversations, definitely tired but satisfied. 

Jungwon is busy munching on the cheese and the soft parts of the dough, Jungkook is watching him in amusement, and you’re watching Jungkook in awe, thinking of how he pulled through today, coming over to make sure that he got to spend it with his son, taking care of everything like the food and cleaning up because you were too busy and too tired to do so, even if you know he’s had a tiring week too. 

You never doubted his desire to get to know Jungwon but his patience and attention to everything have really surprised you. He listens carefully to the little one, asks what he thinks and feels, lets him lead and decide games and shows to watch, and talks to him like an adult. You wonder if he’d asked Taehyung or Namjoon for tips or he’d done some reading. But regardless, you appreciate it so much. You might not have had the start you wanted but it’s definitely going the way you want it to.

And as Jungkook giggles and wipes the cheese off Jungwon’s face, as he fills his glass with water and asks if he wants more, you see the affection on Jungkook’s whole being, you see the care and the warmth. You see the love. 

It’s familiar; it’s similar to how he used to look at you. And it’s this moment that you wish that he learns to look at you that way again. 

##

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (ii)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fem!oc, alcohol consumption, cursing

series masterpost: here

a/n: part two baby! thanks for all the love on part one, it means the absolute world. i have so much love for this story and i hope people are enjoying it :))

Life is settling into a comfortable rhythm.

After spending a good chunk of her young adult life being incredibly studious, Magdalene can finally have the social life of someone in their mid-twenties. Though she’s still spending a fair amount of time by herself in the basements of the University of Denver’s library, Bette convinces her to go out more. Magdalene tries to fight, citing extra work or a good book as an excuse to stay home, but it doesn’t work very often. The pleas of her friend are how Magdalene finds herself currently lounging poolside at Erik Johnson’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

“How’s the new career treating you?” Tyson asks. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while.”

Magdalene laughs. “I’ve seen Bette plenty,” she says, “She thinks I won’t take a lunch break unless she shows up.”

“Would you?” the blonde girl questions with a quirked brow.

“Probably not.”

“I rest my case.”

A small crowd gathers around as Magdalene begins to detail the specifics of her job, but she doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as she once would have. In the month or so since graduating school she’s found herself slowly being incorporated into the Avalanche family. It’s almost certainly because Bette and Tyson championed her case, explaining that she doesn’t have much of a support system beyond the two of them, but she doesn’t mind. A few of the guys ask her questions about her work, curious as to why someone would want to spend their life combing through piles of old things. Everyone stays engaged in the conversation until there’s a shout from the kitchen that dinner is ready.

Magdalene shuffles in line behind André, filling her plate with various pasta salads and a hamburger. Once situated with enough food for two meals she returns to the pool deck, sitting on the edge and dipping her toes into the cool water. Bette comes and finds her a minute later and the two of them begin to eat.

She’s still relatively new to the group’s dynamic, but Magdalene can’t help but notice that Ryan is never around. In fact, Magdalene hasn’t seen him since her graduation party. Taking a casual sip of her wine cooler, she asks her friend about the man’s absence.

“Why is Ryan never at these sorts of things?”

Bette shrugs. “Isn’t a huge one for parties. He was supposed to come today, but I guess something came up.”

“I’m not huge on parties,” Magdalene huffs, “But that doesn’t stop you from dragging me to every single one.”

“Unlike you, Gravy gets enough regular social interaction that his absence is permissible. If Tyson and I didn’t take you out you’d talk to your cat more than normal.”

She wants to fight back, but knows it’s pointless. Bette has a point – if it weren’t for her the only people Magdalene would interact with are her boss and her cat. Instead, she grumbles under her breath and changes the subject to the trip Bette is in the middle of planning. It’s coming up in a few weeks, and Magdalene wants to hear a bit more about it before she commits. Despite what she thought about taking time off so close to starting work, it was encouraged by June, but she's refraining from telling Bette that. If it doesn’t sound like she'll enjoy it, Magdalene is banking on being able to use the excuse.

Bette explains that she’s renting a large lake house that is perfect for a relaxing week away from adult responsibilities. The property has kayaks and a hot tub, which pretty much ensures that Magdalene will want to be in attendance. She’ll hold onto that information for a little while longer though, if for no other reason to make Bette squirm a little. At some point Tyson comes to sweep his girlfriend away and leaves Magdalene at the party alone. She makes polite conversation with some other players for a while before heading home herself. Ryan never shows up, despite how much Magdalene hopes he will. At the very least she wants to properly thank him for doing her a favour, though her hoping to see him is much more selfish. He intrigues her and she wants to know more about the tall man with the dazzling smile and a proclivity for wearing all black.

☼☼☼☼

Barn Owl Book Company is filled to the brim when Magdalene approaches the store from the side street it annexes. She should’ve expected it – it’s the first of the month and their newest books are hitting the shelves. However, Magdalene doesn’t exactly have time to wait in line. June gave her only fifteen minutes to run and grab them coffee before they continue the massive task of digitizing a private collection that has just been donated to the university. She estimates it will take almost a month of extended hours to get everything done, and Magdalene believes it. There’s so much to wade through but she knows the end result will be satisfying.

Luckily the café line is fairly short, and Magdalene reaches the counter in a timely manner. “Hey,” she greets the barista warmly, “Could I just grab two medium iced cappuccinos?”

“Anything else?”

“No, that's everything. It’ll be on debit,” she smiles. Magdalene reaches into her backpack to grab her wallet only to find that it’s missing. Shit. The barista has already left to make the drinks, completely unaware that her customer is unable to pay.

Magdalene hears a voice from behind her say, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.” She turns around to find Ryan Graves standing there with a book tucked under his right arm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she mumbles appreciatively. “I don’t know how my boss would take it if I showed up empty handed.”

Ryan laughs shyly as he pulls his card away from the machine. “I get it, everyone needs a little caffeine this time of year.” The barista comes back with Magdalene’s drinks, which she takes with a smile and a wish for a good day. The two of them head towards the exit, and Ryan pauses once they’re on the sidewalk. “Which way are you headed?”

“Back to work,” Magdalene says, nodding her head in the direction of campus. “I’ve got approximately five minutes to get there before June rips me a new one.”

“June?”

“She’s my boss,” she explains.

Ryan nods in understanding. “I’ll see you around Magdalene,” he smiles, turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction.

In a moment of bravery, Magdalene yells at his retreating figure. “Will you? We never seem to cross paths.”

“I’ll be at Bette and Tyson’s this weekend, and I’m counting on your company.”

Magdalene finds it incredibly hard to focus the rest of the afternoon. She keeps thinking about what Ryan said, which makes her a rather lousy archivist. June sends her home just after seven even though they had plans to stay until ten, citing the fact that she’s scanned the same photo three times before noticing. Caligula’s meowing for pets when she gets home isn’t even enough to distract her from the comment. The absentmindedness continues for another day or so, and it’s becoming so bad Magdalene is worried that June is going to fire her for incompetence.

It’s only when Bette calls to invite her over for dinner and drinks that her mind levels out. “I was wondering when I was going to get the call,” she chuckles absentmindedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” is the response Magdalene receives.

“Well,” she explains, “I ran into Ryan at Barn Owl the other day and he paid for my drinks because I left my wallet on the table at work, and he said he expected to see me at your place this weekend. So if you never invited me I was just going to show up.”

Bette is smiling, that much Magdalene can infer by the lull in conversation. “I haven’t got the time to call you yet,” she concedes, “But consider this the official invitation to our house for a small party.”

“Anything we’re celebrating?”

“Nope. Have you ever needed a reason to party?”

Magdalene laughs. “Yes. Need one almost every time actually.”

The rest of the week passes fairly quickly. To make up for her blundering earlier in the week Magdalene offers to work a full day on Saturday, by herself, to get the project back on track. June accepts the proposition eagerly, and Magdalene lets Bette know she’ll be coming directly from work. Saturday rolls around and she spends most of her time getting lost in the past lives of the artefacts she’s dealing with. If someone were to ask Magdalene what her favourite part of archiving is, that’s the answer she’d give. There’s nothing more satisfying to her than holding a piece of history in her hands and imagining all the stories it would be able to tell if it could speak.

By the time she’s put in a full work day and finishes locking up the basement floor her department occupies, Magdalene is pretty sure they’re ahead of schedule on the project. She genuinely feels terrible about her misperformance and hopes June will be able to forgive her. On the way to Bette and Tyson’s Magdalene listens to the Leonard Cohen greatest hits cd that came with her car. The previous owner was presumably a big fan, and over the years Magdalene has come to appreciate the folk singer. She never got to see him in concert before his death but turns to his music when she needs to relax. Right now is the perfect time to listen to ‘Hallelujah’ on repeat because she’s seriously freaking out about the idea of spending the night talking to Ryan. Though she still wants to properly thank him and possibly become friends, something about him makes Magdalene nervous.

There’s no way for her to tell if Ryan is there when she parks in front of the house. She doesn’t know what kind of car he drives, or if he caught a ride with someone. Magdalene debates texting Bette to see if he’s there already but decides against it, knowing she’s an adult who is more than capable of pushing down nerves.

She doesn’t bother knocking and just steps into the respectably sized home. The music is loud enough that no one would have heard her anyways. It’s much more of a party than Magdalene was expecting – Bette invited her for dinner and drinks, not a gathering that could pass as a frat party. There are bodies everywhere, and she isn’t sure if she’ll ever catch a glimpse of her friend.

“You seem to be dressed for the wrong kind of party,” a voice chuckles from behind her.

Magdalene turns to see Ryan leaning against the wall, eyeing her business casual attire. “I came from work,” she explains, “And didn’t know it was this kind of party to begin with. I would’ve at least brought a change of clothes.”

“You look terribly out of place,” he agrees. “Can I grab you a drink? The hosts are too busy playing beer pong to, you know, be hosts.”

A giggle escapes Magdalene’s lips at the comment. Ryan seems to have a similar sense of humor to her, which will be beneficial for passing the time if Bette is already on her way to being wasted. “A glass of red wine would be nice.”

Ryan pushes off from his perch and heads towards the kitchen. The crowd parts for the six-foot-five hockey player, and Magdalene follows in his wake quite easily. Knowing the space as well as her, Ryan grabs a wine glass from the cupboard Bette keeps them in and pours the dark red liquid into it. He waits until Magdalene has situated herself on the island before handing her the cup. She takes it with an appreciative hum and waits until he’s grabbed a beer for himself before raising her glass in toast. Ryan does the same, and their glasses clink before each of them take a sip.

“What exactly is it that you do? I bet it’s something super cool and studious, but I seriously don’t know what the hell being an archivist means.”

Magdalene explains her job to Ryan, who is extremely interested. He asks nearly a hundred follow-up questions that she answers sincerely, throwing in a few jokes that luckily crack him up. Conversation moves to his career and then life. Magdalene learns that he’s from Nova Scotia, though he stays around Denver these days, and that if he wasn’t playing professional hockey he’d like to have a career in publishing. Ryan doesn’t press too hard when Magdalene refuses to open up about her family, which she appreciates. It’s a delicate subject that she keeps guarded close to her chest, and a friend’s kitchen in the middle of a party isn’t the place for her to divulge her deepest secrets.

The two of them get refills before exiting the room. Even more people seemed to arrive since Magdalene walked through the door, and the kitchen is no longer an empty safe haven. The music is so loud she can feel the bass thumping in her chest, giving the living room a club-like atmosphere, and it’s too much. Magdalene tugs at the hem of Ryan’s sweater to catch his attention. “Want to go somewhere quiet?”

“I doubt there is such a place,” he yells over the crowd going crazy over some early 2000s hip-hop track.

“Follow me,” she says with a smile, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the staircase to the second floor.

It takes a minute for them to wade through the throngs of people, but it goes much faster once Ryan takes Magdalene’s hand and splits the crowd. A few boys, who don’t look older than twenty-one and almost certainly snuck into the party, notice where the pair are going and shout congratulations. Ryan shoots them a glare so sharp it could cut stone but doesn’t drop Magdalene’s hand. Once safely on the much quieter second floor, Magdalene makes a beeline for the bathroom.

“Are you coming or what?” she asks when there doesn’t seem to be footsteps following her.

Ryan hesitates. “I, uh, can just wait out here while you’re in there,” he stammers.

Magdalene’s laugh rings out through the empty hallway. “I’m not going to the bathroom. We’re going out the window.”

He isn’t sure how that’s any better, but Ryan follows the brown-haired girl into the room. It takes considerably more work for him to fit through the frame, but after some directions from Magdalene he makes it onto the roof. She sits down and pats the space beside her, encouraging Ryan to do the same. They stay out there, discussing anything that comes to their heads, until the party’s numbers dwindle drastically. Magdalene makes sure to properly thank him for both attending her graduation and spotting her coffee money, and she thinks Ryan might blush a little when she offers to get the next round. He asks about her love of The West Wing, and they launch into a long conversation about the show and cast. The sun fades to black and the cold sets in, and Magdalene finds herself wrapped in Ryan’s sweater without asking. It’s only when she notices it’s approaching midnight that Magdalene clues into how tired she is.

“I think I’m going to head out,” she yawns. Ryan nods in agreement and holds the window open for her to slip in through. Once downstairs, Magdalene goes to lift the sweater from her frame but Ryan stops her.

“Keep it for drive home. I’ll get it back next time we see each other.”

Still feeling bold from the alcohol that left her system hours ago, she reaches out to poke him in the chest. “And when will that be, hm? You seem to enjoy leaving our meetings up to chance.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh. “Think you can swing an extended lunch break on Wednesday? I’ll be at Barn Owl all afternoon. Maybe you can join me for a coffee.”

Magdalene likes the sound of that and agrees. She leaves without seeing Bette or Tyson once, but she doesn’t mind. They’d be happy for her blooming friendship – or at least she’s pretty sure they will be once she calls to fill them in on the details.

☼☼☼☼

Wednesday rolls around without incident, and Magdalene is given a full hour to eat instead of thirty minutes. Walking time has to be accounted for, of course, but she should have nearly forty-five minutes to spend with Ryan if she plays her cards right. There’s no crowd this time, and it’s incredibly easy to spot Ryan sitting in the window she loves to claim as her own.

“Hey,” Magdalene greets, “Did Bette tell you to sit here?”

He shakes his head, perplexed at the question. “No, why?”

“It’s just my favourite seat in the store, that’s all. I thought she told you how to gain some extra brownie points.”

“Should I be concerned about the amount of points I have?” Ryan teases, sliding a cup and pastry bag across the table and into her hands.

Magdalene shakes her head, smiling widely. “You’re doing alright so far. Keep up the good work.”

They eat at a comfortable pace, taking breaks to engage in interesting topics of conversation or take sips of their drinks. Ryan insists his life is boring, but Magdalene is enthralled by the stories he tells. It’s completely different from hers and she feels as though she can live vicariously through the tales of walking through the historic downs of the east coast and swimming in the Pacific Ocean on days off in California. After squeezing every story possible from the man Magdalene shifts gears slightly.

“So, are you going on the trip in a couple of weeks?”

“It’s looking that way,” Ryan shrugs with relative indifference, “Nate doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back, something about a development camp he’s running having the dates switched. He’s asked me to take his spot.”

His neutral mood confuses her. When Bette mentioned his probable attendance months ago, it sounded like he was enthusiastic about spending a week with friends doing nothing to swimming and drinking. “You don’t want to go?” Magdalene probes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but sometimes the group parties a little harder than I like to,” he sighs, raising a hand and running it through his hair. That’s something she understands completely, having spent a few too many nights being the sober one out.

“I’ll be there.” It’s Magdalene’s turn to shrug, but the comment holds an incredible amount of hope.

“Well then, that changes everything.”

Was Ryan flirting with her? She spends the rest of lunch thinking about the possibility, and truthfully, it occupies her brain for the rest of the day. However, she keeps her focus and June is none the wiser to the butterflies in her stomach. Work finishes without much fanfare, and her dinner is silent save for the few meows of conversation Caligula offers. It’s late by the time Magdalene falls into bed, cat snuggled into the pillow beside her. On a whim she decides to check Instagram and sees a message request from none other than the man who’s smile has been replaying in her mind. A follow request accompanies it.

Thought that maybe we could quit leaving our meetings to chance and plan something next time :)

He has to be flirting. There’s no other explanation for the witty banter they’ve shared this week, or why he’s reaching out to her on social media. The butterflies in her stomach multiply tenfold as Magdalene types out a reply.

I don’t know, it’s kind of fun being shrouded in mystery. However, I now have the opportunity to stalk your profile ;)

Before she can overthink her use of the emoji, Magdalene shoves her phone in the drawer of her nightstand and rolls over. A slight smile can’t help but appear on her features as she falls asleep, already curious about what his reply will be.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds (add yourself to the taglist!)

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Four

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, making out

Chapter Summary: You go on a short trip to Massachusetts to see Peter, Bucky takes you on a second date, someone gets caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Author’s Note: This was going to be a filler but it has a decent amount of necessary plot and progression. The next part will have a time jump so I don’t have to include a bunch of filler chapters, blehk. Let me know if you see my Avatar: The Last Airbender reference in here! And as always, you’re welcome to send me a coffee!

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Tags: @kennedywxlsh @ursmolbunny @devilswaldorf

By the time Monday rolled around, you were thankful Bucky had training in the morning or you would’ve never gone to sleep. Most of the deeper subjects had been touched on when you were together on Saturday, so Sunday was just texting more playful banter and fun facts you hadn’t learned during your lab hangouts, but you two still talked until your phone was propped up on your pillow waiting for another message while you drifted in and out of sleep.

Bucky had sent you a sweet “good morning, doll” text for you to wake up to, but you didn’t talk much before you had to head to work and he had to work out with Steve. That’s the downside to waking up with just enough time to get ready. Not much wiggle room for distractions, no matter how delicious.

You had barely settled in to your workspace, specs for Sam’s wings pulled up in front of you, when you had a request for a FaceTime call from Peter, of all people. You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks since he went back to campus, but he was set to come back soon for a weekend.

“Hey Peter, what’s up?” you answered.

“Hey [Y/N]! I, uh, I kind of have a big favor to ask,” he said with a forced chuckle.

“Oh… okay? What’s going on?”

“Well, you remember that project you wanted my help on?” You nodded. “Well I talked to my professor about it and he said I can use it as my final project for this semester as long as you come to the proposal and document what you did on it so I don’t take credit for any of your work. If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine! I can probably work on another project, I just don’t want to put your project off and make you wait for me to finish my part —“

“Peter!” you shouted, cutting off his rambling with a laugh. “I think that sounds great. It’ll be nice for you to kill two birds with one stone. When would I need to be there?”

“Uhh,” he started with another forced laugh. “My proposal is Wednesday.”

You stared at the screen, motionless at his response. “Wednesday. Like, two days from now, Wednesday?” Peter nodded. You could practically see him sweating through the phone, worrying about whether or not he should’ve asked his professor sooner or just completely avoided the subject entirely. But you knew he probably didn’t have much heads-up and considered using your project a little late in the game. “It’s a good thing I like you, kid. Let me double check with the boss but I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

“Yes! You’re the best!” Peter cheered.

“I’ll text you when my flight leaves because there’s no way I’m driving ten hours.”

You and Peter briefly went over how things would work, from what you should wear to whether you’d be getting a hotel room or bunking on his futon. While you were talking, you emailed your dad about the trip and got a quick approval. Tony liked Peter, and you understood why. He reminded you of your father if your dad had a stutter instead of an ego.

Mid-afternoon, when you took your second 20-minute break of the day just to let your brain relax, there was a soft tap on the door of your lab before Bucky poked his head in. He stepped in and looked around the whole room frantically before he noticed you curled up under a blanket on the giant bean bag chair you shoved into the corner once Peter left. You liked being able to take your breaks in the quiet of the lab so your brain could actually shut down for a few minutes.

“Oh, hey,” Bucky said with a smile.

“Hey Buck,” you replied, mirroring his smile. “How’s your day?”

“Pretty good,” he said with a sigh. “Just bored so I thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“Just taking a break,” you shrugged. “But you’re more than welcome to sit with me while I work. I won’t interact much because I lose focus easily but you can hang out.”

“As appealing as that is,” he started as he walked closer to you in your bean bag chair, “I know I’d start asking questions and I don’t want to distract you.”

You stood from your spot as he got closer and smirked up at him. “You are pretty distracting.” He stopped when he was toe-to-toe with you. “It’s a good thing my breaks are made for distraction.”

He smiled down at you as his warm hand curled around the back of your neck and pulled you into him for a kiss, your own hands looping through his belt and pulling his body closer to yours.

You practically melted into him, feeling as if you couldn’t get closer no matter how hard you tried. Even him slipping his thigh between your legs didn’t feel close enough. Then the weight of his metal hand fell to your waist as his tongue entered your mouth. It was all reminiscent of your first kiss just a couple days before.

Except outside your apartment, you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

“Hey [Y/N], have you—“ You and Bucky quickly pulled apart at the sound of a new voice coming from the doorway and you immediately started to panic.

“—seen Bucky,” Steve ended with a sigh. The door quietly clicked shut behind him as he stepped in. “So you two…?”

“Have been on a date,” you said, walking toward Steve with your hands held out. “Steve, please don’t tell anyone, especially Tony.”

“You kind of owe me one, punk,” Bucky said as he walked closer, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I never ratted you out for lying on, what, five different enlistment papers?”

Steve huffed at this, clearly stuck between following the rules or letting others break rules that were much more harmless than his past rule breaking.

“You know this is gonna come out eventually, right? You won’t be able to hide this — and whatever this becomes — forever,” Steve warned.

“We know,” you said solemnly, “but it’s nice to just have this for now, you know?” You looked over at Bucky, who was leaning against the lab table looking back at you, his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Just… be careful,” Steve said as he started to leave. “If you don’t lock the door, at least ask Friday to alert you if someone is coming this way.”

“You know, I don’t care what people say about you, Steve. You’re pretty smart.” Steve initially smiled but then let out a short ‘hey!’ as you pushed him the rest of the way out.

“That was close,” you said, turning back to Bucky.

“But at least we have a pretty influential Avenger on our side, if we ever get outed,” Bucky said. Too bad he didn’t know the approval of everyone on earth would mean nothing to your dad — and both of your boss.

“Well, that little debacle kind of wasted the rest of my break,” you pouted, stepping up to Bucky.

“Can I take you out again?”

“I’d like that a lot,” you smiled. “Oh! I’m leaving for Massachusetts tomorrow and coming back on Thursday and have my family thing on Friday so will Saturday work?”

“Massachusetts?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the rest of your statement.

“Yeah, I’m helping Peter with a project so his prof wants me to be there to answer questions while he proposes his project. It’ll just be Wednesday, but Tony let me have tomorrow and Thursday off for travel so I’m taking my time.”

“That sounds…” Bucky started. “Uhh… I gotta be honest, that sounds unbearably boring,” he laughed, making you giggle with him. “But good luck to you and Peter. I’ll see you Saturday?”

•

The trip to Massachusetts was short but boring, and you were relieved to see Peter’s car when you stepped outside. Your hotel was right down the road from his dorm, so you dropped your stuff off before heading to his room to go over the proposal.

Even though you had only spent a few weeks working with Peter, he had grown to be like a brother to you. Spending so much time every day with no one else to talk to can really help people bond. Your dad’s adoration for the kid definitely helped, too. You wouldn’t be surprised if your dad eventually brought Peter along to family dinner.

“So I have to do most of the work, but you’ll need to explain why we’re doing this and what you’ll be doing,” Peter said after reviewing his speech.

“Okay, I can manage that.”

Peter was quiet for a second before saying, “Do you… maybe wanna go over what you’ll say…?”

“Oh, sure! Sorry, public speaking is a big thing in my family so I just figured I’d wing it.”

“Please don’t,” Peter said quietly, his eyes going wide right as the words left his mouth. “I don’t mean that in a bad way! I just mean, this proposal is important to me so I want it to go as smoothly and well-planned as possible.”

“Okay, you be your professor.”

Peter cleared his throat and said, “Miss [Y/L/N], what prompted you to start this project with Mr. Parker? And what role will you play in its growth?”

“Well, Dr. Kramer, I recently received a promotion within Stark Industries to work with the Avengers on their weaponry. This work included the vibranium arm on the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. One thing I noticed early on was the lack of sensory receptors within the arm. That observation, along with a similar request from Mr, Barnes, prompted me to look into ways to change this. Mr. Parker has an internship with Mr. Stark so, considering our different areas of study, I sought out his help. With my knowledge and expertise on the mechanical side of things, Mr. Parker will primarily be working on the more biological side of things. Once he finds a way to connect new receptors to the spinal column through the current nerve channels, I’ll be able to create millions of micro-receptors that will need to essentially be surgically embedded in the vibranium. I already have the blueprints for this process; I’m more than willing to share those documents with you, though it is confidential and I would need you to sign an NDA for safety reasons.”

Peter stood in the middle of his room, speechless.

“I told you it runs in my family,” you laughed. “Now pick your jaw up off the floor. I’m hungry.”

The next day, Peter and you breezed through the proposal. Peter didn’t even stutter during his speech! But his classmates did bombard you with questions that the professor quickly shut down. You and Peter spent the rest of the day catching up. He introduced you to his girlfriend Michelle and his friends Ned and Flash. By the time you got back to your hotel that night, you were exhausted — and thankful for an afternoon flight.

The next morning, you got breakfast with Peter before his class and finished packing to fly back to New York. You were once again grateful for an afternoon flight because by the time you got back, you didn’t have time to get back to work. So you took the evening off and treated yourself to a bath, some wine, and your favorite Netflix series — and texting Bucky, of course.

Family dinner that week was much easier than the previous week. Your dad mainly asked about your project with Peter, only briefly touching on Bucky’s involvement. At least until your phone buzzed on the table. It was a rule that phones stay face-up on the table at dinner and any messages get read aloud. So when you saw “James 🐻” pop up, heat rushed to your face. You managed to snatch your phone before your dad could, but you still had to read it out loud to the table.

“Uh,” you nervously cleared your throat. “So, James said ‘I have an idea for our date tomorrow, but I would need full reign over your kitchen for a while.’” You sent the table a tight-lipped smile as you locked your phone and set it down again, waiting for someone to say something.

“You’re going out with this James again?” your dad asked.

“Yes,” you said plainly. “I like him, dad. A lot.”

“And you’re already inviting him over?”

“Dad, stop. I’m a grown woman; I can make my own decisions.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying… well, don’t you want to get to know him better first? Make sure he doesn’t want to wear your skin?”

“Ew, shut up,” you laughed. “I’ve done plenty of research into him; he’s a good guy.” Your dad still looked skeptical, so you pulled out your puppy dog eyes. “Please trust me on this.”

Tony huffed and shook his head. “Okay, fine. He’s a good guy. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And don’t do anything I would do either.” You rolled your eyes at him but managed to divert the conversation by asking Happy and Pepper what Tony’s limit really meant.

•

The next day at 3:30 on the dot, you got a call to your house phone by the front door. It was unusual, especially since you hadn’t ordered any food. The doorman usually brought food up, but called if they were working alone. And you knew they weren’t working alone, considering how early it was. Still in your sweats and a t-shirt since Bucky wasn’t coming over until 4, you answered the phone with a simple “hey.”

“Hello Miss [Y/L/N],” you recognized the doorman Matt’s voice, “there’s a James at the front door for you?”

“Oh, okay, shit,” you said, whispering the last word to yourself. “Go ahead and send him up.”

“Would you like to grant him regular access to your residence?” Matt was always so formal, probably because you pushed for your dad to hire him and he knew he had to keep this gig. His background check showed he came from a low-income family and really wanted to turn that around. He knew he owed you and because of that, he was always grateful and sweet.

“Yes please. Thanks, Matt!”

With that, you hung up and sprinted to your room, knowing Bucky only had a 20 second elevator ride before he got to the sixth floor. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have time to scramble for new clothes before there was a knock at your door. You grumbled as you ran back to the front door and greeted Bucky.

“Hi,” you said, half out of breath from your scurrying.

“Hey,” he smiled back. “I’m glad we chose the same style today.”

You gave him an admittedly generous once-over and realized his gray sweats and black tee matched yours, though your shirt did have an NYU logo on it.

“Oh thank god,” you nearly cackled. “I was panicking because I thought I should dress nice but you were early so I didn’t have time but I didn’t want to get ready too early so I wasn’t —“

“Hey [Y/N]?” Bucky interrupted. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” You stepped aside and let him kick his shoes off in the entryway. That’s when you noticed all the grocery bags in his hands. “Uhh, whatcha got there?”

“I said I’d need your kitchen, right?” he smiled, sending a wink your way as he started setting up. “I’m gonna cook you some authentic Romanian dishes ma used to make back in the ‘30s.”

“Ohh, sounds yummy. Can I help?”

“If you want to eat any of it, you better help,” Bucky joked.

“Let me grab a couple aprons so our fancy attire doesn’t get dirty.” In the hallway closet, you had about a dozen aprons Happy got for you. You said you needed some aprons once and suddenly you were getting new aprons for every gift-giving holiday. You appreciated it, though. Every time Happy saw an apron he thought you’d like, he bought it. And you, in return, bought him every oven mitt you thought he would like after he accidentally burned his hand making green bean casserole one year for Thanksgiving.

You grabbed the “Queen of the Cat-chen” apron covered in cats for yourself and for Bucky, the “I’ll feed all you fuckers” apron your dad thought was hilarious on your last birthday.

“Sorry I don’t have any matching chef hats,” you joked as you handed Bucky his apron.

For the next three hours, you followed all Bucky’s instructions and watched as he did his part of the work, chatting while things cooked and finally relaxing once everything was plated. You each had a decent amount of food debris on your aprons, making you thankful you both wore them. You led Bucky into the living room where you sat on the floor between your couch and the coffee table.

“You know the couch is made for sitting, right?” Bucky asked as he slowly sat behind you, one leg on either side of your body.

“Yeah, but it’s more fun to sit on the floor, especially when I’m eating.” You turned your head to face him as you continued, “I get too sleepy if I’m on the couch too long.”

He chuckled at your confession but didn’t argue. You both ate in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the hum of traffic six floors down and the TV quietly playing a crackling fire YouTube video.

“Can you finish this for me?” you asked as Bucky set his empty plate on the coffee table.

“I’m full, doll.”

“Bucky, please? I can’t finish it,” you whines, pouting up at him.

“Then just put it away with the leftovers and eat it later,” he shrugged.

“But I’m so bad at eating leftovers,” you groaned.

“Then I’ll put it away and eat the leftovers,” he conceded. He snatched the plate from you and headed to your kitchen to pack it all away.

By the time he made it back, you were snuggled under a blanket on the couch with “What’s Your Number?” pulled up on the TV.

“I hope you’re okay with watching my favorite movie,” you smiled, making sure to flutter your eyelashes extra hard so he couldn’t say no.

“I haven’t seen this one yet so sure,” he said with a shrug.

He yanked the blanket off your body and unfolded it so he could bring you under his right arm and cover both of you with the thick fabric. Ever since Monday in the lab, he’s been more affectionate. He stopped by on Friday and kissed you at least half a dozen times before he left, then earlier while you were cooking, it was like he had to hold your hips every time he watched over your shoulder, and he chose to end the night holding you into his side and… oh, you were a goner once his fingers started lightly tracing shapes on your bare arm.

And he had to have known you were weak, if the way he angled his body toward you was any indication. You loved the movie you had picked out and really did want to watch it… but when you looked up at Bucky and saw his gaze meet yours, you knew the movie was going to be long forgotten.

His lips pressed to yours firmly, like he wanted to make sure you remembered what he felt like. You quickly let things escalate by gripping his hair and pulling him with you and you laid back on the couch. Your legs fell open as he slid right between them, his left arm propped on the cushion to keep himself from crushing you and his right slipping under your shirt to hold your waist. When his tongue passed your lips, you couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of him taking control. His hand never moved past your waist, just occasionally squeezing as he pressed his body against yours.

The rest of the night was spent alternating between making out, talking while you were chest to chest on the couch, and making out some more until you fell asleep against his chest.

•

The next morning, you woke up to the blaring sound of a ringtone... that wasn’t your ringtone. And you were on your couch? The sleepy haze quickly wore off when you felt Bucky’s body shift behind you to reach over and grab his phone.

“What?” he answered grumpily, though your body’s initial reaction was to how deep and gravelly his voice was in the morning. Fuck.

With how close you two were and how quiet it was with the TV off, you managed to barely make out what was being said on the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” It was Steve. “You were supposed to be at the group breakfast this morning but you weren’t in your room so I told Tony you weren’t feeling well.”

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky groaned. Now that sound sent all your senses into overdrive. “I fell asleep at [Y/N]’s last night.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Steve replied, clearly exasperated. “Look, just stop by a convenience store and grab some medicine so when you get back, no one questions it. You snuck out when no one saw, that’s the story.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll head out soon.” Once they hung up, you rolled over on the couch to face Bucky.

“Good morning,” you said with a sleepy grin.

“Good morning,” he replied, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m sure you heard but I’ve gotta head out before Tony gets suspicious.”

“Okay. Text me when you get back?”

Bucky stood from the couch, and you followed suit behind him as he put his sneakers and jacket on.

“I’ll text you on my whole trip back,” he smiled. “Looks like you might have to bring those leftovers with you tomorrow. I don’t know that I can sneak them back today.”

You practically skipped to join him at the door, your hands going to rest on his chest before he could leave.

“Should we just designate Saturdays as our date nights?” you asked.

“Who said you get another date?” Bucky joked back.

“Excuse me?” you gasped in mock offense. “Next time I get to choose what we do and I’m not letting you take that away from me.”

Bucky chuckled at your little outburst but pressed another kiss to your lips as a peace offering.

“Next Saturday, your pick,” he smirked.

“It’s a date.”

[sope-and-shine]

Written In the Stars: Finale

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, // Mummy!Namjoon, Moon Goddess!Taehyung

-> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader // Taehyung x Reader

-> Word Count: 7k

-> Summary: Life after losing a loved one is challenging, especially when you’ve had the chance to see just how long the two of you have spent passing each other by. With it only being a few weeks since your loss, you’ve found your life has become dull and despondent. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to move on, even with the help of friends.

-> Warning(s): mild language

a/n: I can’t believe we’re actually at the end 😭😭 I’ve put so much time and love into this story and I’m both sad and happy that I’ve been able to finish it! I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Masterlist

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*

“Ma’am, where’s the restroom?”

You turn and see a father holding a small boy in his arms, and you immediately jump into action, “Take a right out of these doors, down the hall until you see the blue traffic sign, and it’ll be on the right. There should be a Daffodil portrait on the wall right before your turn.”

The man heaves a happy - very relieved - sigh, “Thank you!”

“Of course!” You watch as he speedwalks out of the exhibit and takes off down the hall. You can only hope he actually makes it there.

The day shift has definitely been more exciting. It’s only been a few weeks, but your days have been filled with more excitement since you switched. You tried to continue with the night shift post, but the silence just became too overwhelming. Thankfully, Hoseok seemed to understand when you told him.

You switched back to the day shift in hopes it would help to take your mind off of Namjoon. You thought being surrounded by others would make you feel less lonely, but you can’t help but think about how your life has changed so drastically.

Adjusting to your new life hasn’t been easy. Everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Namjoon. You hear his laugh by the water fountains, you see his hair in crowds on the street, and you can still feel his arms around you at night as you lay in bed.

At first, you thought it was something you could handle. You thought if you embraced his goodbye, then you’d be content to live the rest of your life without him. But no one told you losing love would hurt this bad.

You’ve tried to do other things, like knitting and working out, but you’re not very good at either one - nor do you really like them. Cooking had seemed like a good idea until you realized that meant cleaning the dishes. With every attempt to move on, you seem to take 3 large steps back.

You find yourself going to places Namjoon would have liked. Spontaneous trips to the park lead to long evenings by the river. Extra hours at the museum have you wandering through the exhibits just to look at the art one more time. Even a quick trip to the store has you buying things you’ve never thought to try.

The one place you never go is the King’s exhibit. At least, not of your own free will. It’s only happened twice - once being today - because someone had to call out. And just like the time before, you find yourself at the aquarium.

A place where Namjoon was truly happy.

The touch tanks have quickly become a favorite of yours. They allow you time to think to yourself and drift off, to daydream about a handsome king with an endearing fascination for the world around him.

You like to visit the crabs the most. Mostly because you know Namjoon would if he could. He thought they were the cutest on your outing together, and holding the tiny creature in your palm you can see why.

“Ow!” You flinch at the small pinch from the crustacean. Your hands jerk, but you try to protect the crab the best you can without dropping it.

“Here-” A large hand reaches in front of you and plucks the crab from your hands, “These guys get a little finicky when you hold them up too high.”

You place your thumb over the pinch and turn to him, “Really? I can’t-” You pause mid-sentence.

Now, looking at the crab’s savior, you see him. Lilac strands poke out of the blue university hat he’s wearing. His khaki shorts are worn and just barely reach his knees, and his sneakers are all worn out. Even the socks he’s wearing have slightly lost their vibrance. His baggy t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s more fit than he was a few weeks ago, but a few weeks ago he had disappeared right in front of you. But there’s no mistaking that dimpled smile.

This is Namjoon.

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, and you must look exactly how you feel because his smile turns to concern, “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” You’re not. You’re absolutely stunned and he doesn’t seem to recognize you. They do say everyone in the world has 4 people that look just like them. How unfortunate that you’ve found his. “You just...look really familiar.”

“Really? Well, I guess that means I have a memorable face then.” He muses, chuckling to himself - Exactly like Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You take another selfish moment to look at him, admiring how gentle he is with the small creature in his hands. “You really seem to like the crabs.”

“Yeah, I do!” He nods enthusiastically, “I really only applied here as an excuse to play in the touch tanks.”

“Something easy to wind down from classes?” You ask.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to you as if you suddenly grew 2 extra heads, “How’d you know?”

You giggle, “You’re wearing a university hat with your grad year.”

“Really?!” You nod and he pulls the cap off of his head, letting out a frustrated groan when he confirms he’s wearing his university hat, “No wonder my supervisor straight up ignored me this morning. This is the third time this month I’ve grabbed the wrong one.”

“At least it’s a nice hat.” You assure him, trying to remain positive.

He places the cap back on his head and sighs, “Tell that to him.” He brings the small crab still resting in his palms eye level, “This little guy knows exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t tell me you speak crab.”

“Of course I do! You just have to know how to listen.” He says matter of factly.

“Alright then. Ask him how he’s doing.”

“I will.” He turns to the crab and stares at it as if they’re having a staring contest, “How are you feeling, little guy?” He moves the crab up to his ear and acts as though it’s whispering to him, nodding and humming disagreement, “I see...I’d be pretty frightened too.”

You narrow your eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said he was having a great day until someone came and held him up too high.” He teases.

“You’re taller than me!” You argue.

He looks you up and down, nodding, “You’re right…” He seems to contemplate for a moment before he shrugs with a sly smile, “He probably just likes me better.”

“Oh, really now?” You challenge. He nods proudly and you scoff, “Well, what’s your name? Resident Crab Whisperer?”

“No! That’s way too long.” He laughs. He extends the hand not cradling a crab towards you and smiles, “My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“Well…” You hesitate, trying your best not to react. You swallow your nerves and shake his hand with a smile of your own, “-It’s nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. Any relation to the mummy at the museum?”

“That hopeless romantic from the Seoul Museum?” He jokes. He takes this moment to place the crab back into his touch tank, “Yeah, he’s like a great-great-super great uncle or something like that.”

“Well, you look like him.” You say. He gives you a confused look and you’re quick to back-pedal, “His portraits! You look like his portraits.”

“I do?” He asks.

“Besides the purple hair, I’d say you’re the spitting image.”

“I’ll have to check it out myself then.”

“Well, their hours are 8am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 12pm to 6pm on Sunday.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, “I’ve been the night guard the past few years. I just switched to day shift.”

“Really?!” He asks in disbelief, “Isn’t it creepy working the graveyard shift? It must be way too quiet.”

“Not really.” You think back to the nights you spent with your Namjoon and how he made you laugh. You remember asking him the same thing one Saturday night after the museum closed. You two were much closer than his first Sunday there, but you couldn’t help but worry about how he must get through the night alone. But Namjoon was a king. He wasn’t worried about a bit of peace and quiet. “A friend of mine once told me that silence is more reassuring than anything. It means peace.”

“They sound wise.”

“He was...” You can’t help but think about Namjoon’s absence.

This always happens when you think about any good times you may have had, remembering how much fun you had and how you’ll likely never have it again. Being in front of this Namjoon does nothing to help you feel at ease.

“You know that movie-?! It’s-Oh...What was it called…?” The lilac-haired Namjoon suddenly claps his hands together with a proud smile, “Night at the Museum! Anything like that happen after hours?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing better than anyone how Ben Stiller’s character felt during that movie. Of course, the Namjoon in front of you would never believe you, “I wish. It’d make some of the exhibits a lot more interesting.”

He nods, “I bet they’d be pretty interactive too…Could you imagine history telling itself?!”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about the love-life of a thousand-year-old mummy.” You joke, knowing full well you already have.

“Yeah, I guess that would get annoying after a while...always lamenting about love and what-not…” He seems slightly disappointed, but his smile comes right back, “Why don’t you let me show you around and I’ll tell you about our exhibits instead?”

You’re taken aback by his boldness, “Oh, are you sure?” He nods, “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! My shift ended like 30 minutes ago and this place is only open for another 3 hours.” He assures you, “So, what do you say?”

Maybe it’s because he’s the spitting image of Namjoon, or maybe it’s the similarities in their personas. Maybe it’s just the way his dimples appear every time he laughs and his laugh sounds just like his. No matter what it is that’s drawing you to this Namjoon, you find that your heart has taken over for your brain and it’s putty in his hands, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Namjoon breaks into an excited grin, dimples on full display, “That’s the spirit!” He straightens his posture and holds his arm out for you as if he were a butler or an escort, “From here until the aquarium closes, consider me your personal tour guide for the rest of the evening. There won’t be a bench you haven’t sat on by the time we’re done!”

He’s confident.

But perhaps he’s too confident…

He takes you to places you’ve been before, educating you on every animal in great detail. He doesn’t miss a single species, and he takes great care to make sure you see what he’s talking about - guiding your head and pointing in the right direction. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you could listen to him talk for hours. He’s so well-spoken, and he describes everything in such wonderful detail. It comes as no surprise to you when he mentions himself to be a literature major.

He has such a unique personality and the most terrible humor. He tells you about his bike and how much he enjoys riding by the river and through the park. He tells you about his love for moon jelly and how it’s like looking up at the sky when you see them. Everything about him is just so uniquely him, but you can’t help but see all of the similarities he holds to your Namjoon.

His physical features are all the same: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his dimples, his height, and even his haircut! There’s no doubt that this Namjoon would look identical to your Namjoon if his hair were the same dark brown. His interest in the Moon and his love of literature. Your Namjoon would have excelled academically in this world just like this Namjoon. Even his love of small creatures and terribly out-of-date dad jokes is exactly the same!

He’s Namjoon.

But he doesn’t hold the memories of your Namjoon…

Taehyung had told you how Fate had tried to warn him several times. How Fate couldn’t change what would happen, and she could only hope to guide everyone to the best outcome without ruining the future herself. But how cruel could Fate be to have another Namjoon this close to you yet not be yours. To thrust this on you so soon without even a few months to grieve more.

How could someone be so heartless?

---

“And this would be the last bench of our tour.” Namjoon says as you exit the aquarium, extending an arm as he presents it to you.

“Oh wow...” You thank him and take a seat, playing along with his charade - as you have all night - as you pretend to admire the bench. You admire the dedication plaque for just a moment before you turn to him in mock disappointment, “I thought you said we’d see everything on this tour?”

He shrugs, “I may have rambled here and there...” He seems almost sheepish as he realizes how he went on and on over every topic the two of you talked about, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries here.” You assure him. You’d take 5 more tours just to listen to him ramble on and on for hours, “Now I know that fish talk through make sounds by vibrating their muscles against their bladder. Pretty weird, but I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could educate you a bit.” He seems nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts from one foot to the other, “Maybe we can do this again?”

“Uh…” You hesitate, “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s just a tour. No harm in that.

“Maybe...I could take you to dinner too?” He asks.

There’s some harm in that.

He already seems nervous so you try to find the right words to say, “Oh, I-” But your face seems to give you away way too easily.

“You’re not interested.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay! I get it, I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” You stand up and try to explain, but he seems to already have your rejection in his mind.

“No, please, don’t feel like you have to. I’ve been told I can be a bit pushy.”

“No, that’s really not it! I’d love to go to dinner with you!”

That seems to catch his attention.

“Really?”

You nod, “Yeah! Just not now, or like-...anytime soon.”

The last of Namjoon’s hope turns into skepticism, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”

“I know how it sounds, but please-!” You stop yourself before you can blurt out the wrong thing and scare him off entirely, “I lost someone really special to me recently. His loss hasn’t been easy for me, and I don’t want to jump into something too soon. I don’t think that’d be fair to you if I’m still hung up on someone else.”

“Oh wow...I’m really sorry about that.” You thank him and take a moment to breathe, holding yourself back from the tears that want to break free, “I went through a loss not too long ago too! You’re taking the right steps, and I appreciate you thinking about my feelings.”

You smile, “Of course! Everyone deserves that.”

“Well, no dinner then, but maybe another tour next weekend? Same time?” He asks, “Strictly hanging out though. No dinner.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He says excitedly. Though, as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s stepping over himself to correct what he’d said, “Not a date! Absolutely not a date. No, ma’am.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at how endearing he is, “I can’t wait.”

You squeeze the strap of the bag on your shoulder with one hand and wave with the other, turning and departing from the current Namjoon. Maybe in time, you can fall in love with this Namjoon for who he is and not because he reminds you of your Namjoon. At that point, then this lilac-haired, crab-loving, literature enthusiast would be your Namjoon.

You can only hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

*

*

*

“So, that’s it then?”

“I’m sorry?” You turn around confused, only about 50 feet away.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to be nice to this me, but not the one that waited 1,000 years for you!” He explains.

You’re so confused that it takes a second to grasp what this Namjoon is saying, and then it hits you. This Namjoon isn’t just any Namjoon.

He’s your Namjoon.

King Kim Namjoon.

The Hopeless Romantic from the Seoul Museum of Art and History.

“Namjoon…?” You ask. You know it’s him, you’re confident. But it still seems like it’s way too good to be true.

He nods, “It’s me.”

In an instant, you’re running towards him. You fling yourself into his awaiting arms and squeeze him as tight as humanly possible, burying your face into his neck as the tears begin to form in your eyes. You let your hands thread through his soft, purple locks and allow yourself to relax with his arms squeezing around your waist.

You bask in this overwhelming feeling of being whole again. You feel light and complete for the first time in weeks and it fills you with so much joy that you can hardly contain yourself. The embrace feels like that first kiss all over again, and you just never want to let him go.

As you calm down and you come to realize that Namjoon isn’t going anywhere, you pull away just enough so you can see his own tear-stained face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy, but his smile is unmistakable with those gorgeous dimples of his.

Looking at him, it’s now that you realize…

He remembered you this whole time.

You smack his chest - not enough to hurt him, but enough so he knows you mean business - and he flinches, “How dare you play with me like this, Namjoon? Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me?!”

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes. He runs his hands up and down your sides affectionately, trying to keep you close - and not angry with him, “Trust me when I say this wasn’t easy for me either.”

As much as you would love to be mad with him for pretending he didn’t know you, you can’t. You’re just happy he’s here more than anything. But that still begs the question, “How are you here?”

“I’m not supposed to say much, but I can tell you the other deities had a few tricks up their sleeves.” He explains. He takes a moment to admire your features and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “But I think most of the thanks needs to go to Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “You know about him?!”

He nods, “It was a shock, but he and the other deities explained everything.” He pulls you closer and uses a hand to cup your face, “They gave me a whole life to share with you.”

You lean into his touch, but you’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in such a short time, “And you just remember everything?”

“They gave me the memories back.” He corrects. He’s so close now and you want nothing more than to start where the two of you had left off before you broke the spell, “I guess Fate had a backup plan for him.”

“Thank Fate for that.” You say before giving in to your temptation and pulling your soulmate in for a much needed, long-awaited, proper kiss

* *

*

“You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork to see Taehyung standing in your doorway, wearing his favorite emerald 3 piece suit. His fist is raised to the door frame as if he knocked just before he spoke. You must not have heard him.

You wave him in, “Yeah, come in! I’m just finishing up with this finance report.” You expect him to come right in, but he seems hesitant to do so. “Are you okay?”

“Am I not in trouble?” He asks.

Your brow raises in confusion, “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Well, Jimin said-'' Taehyung stops. He remembers the other day after work when he’d come home to Jimin and Jeongguk, going at it in the kitchen for the 4th time in 2 weeks. He’d thought it would be funny to dump water on them - and so had Guk - but the Earth deity had apparently been unamused. Of course, him being the pettiest individual he would settle for a payback that would absolutely scare him. He sits in the chair across from you and throws one leg over the other, “Nevermind. I know what happened.”

You chuckle, “Well, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I asked for you.”

“Oh, really?!” He’s definitely surprised, “What is it?”

“Well-” You move your finance report to the paper organizer on your desk, grab your bag at your feet, and stand up, “-why don’t show you?”

He uncrosses his legs and stands, “We’re going somewhere?”

You nod, “If you’re up for it.” You hold your hand out for him, an action that’s become normal between the two of you.

He takes your hand and you both exit your office together, leaving the human way. You make your way downstairs hand-in-hand, passing patrons that still roam the halls or meander up and down the stairs taking pictures to their heart's content. It all makes you feel human, and feeling human makes you feel happy.

On your way through the lobby, you catch sight of Eunha talking to another security guard. She’d made a request to switch shifts, and you made sure to have Hoseok take over her position under the guise of someone else. She looks happier, but you know better. Thankfully, her shift will be over in a few more hours.

“She’s pretty strong.” Taehyung comments, seeming to already know what you’re thinking. “I talked to her this morning and at lunch. She’s holding it together.”

You manage half a smile, “That’s good.”

Seokjin spots you walking together as you get closer to the exit and his smile widens, “Goodnight, (Y/n)! Goodnight, Taehyung!”

“Have a good night, Seokjin!” You respond, offering a small nod.

“See you tomorrow!” Taehyung waves. Seokjin gives him an indiscreet wink and you pretend you don’t see it even when Taehyung gives him an even more obvious wink back.

You playfully bump him with your hip and he pulls you with him, raising your joined hands above your head and resting them on your opposite shoulder. You squeeze as tight as you can together to fit through the door frame and out to the open air.

“I heard you promoted him.” Taehyung mentions as you make your descent down the large staircase.

You shrug, “There was an opening available.”

“Was there?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow.

You nod, “Yes. There was.” You nudge him back.

“Are you sure~?” The blonde asks again, “I’d hate to see you fall victim to those silly human emotions~”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you are something else!” You drop his hand and rush two steps ahead of him, but he’s right behind you.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He defends. He rushes down the steps to the bottom before you make it to the last step and he puts his hands out to stop you, “We wouldn’t want to upset the council, would we?”

“I think you’ve done enough angering the council to cover me.” You remind him, poking his nose with your pointer finger, “Besides, maybe I want to get under their skin.”

“All of them? Or someone specific?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You sigh, “I’m not saying Seowoo deserves it, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He agrees. He looks both ways down the sidewalk, “Which way?”

“This way.” You point towards the side of the museum where the street light is out, the darkness wrapping around the corner and making the perfect disappearing point.

You take his hand and together you both walk into the shadows, walking into the darkest section of the sidewalk before disappearing at the corner. You round the trunk of a cherry willow, a sliver of distant light shining through the drooping branches.

Taehyung runs his thumb over your hand and stops, “Are you wearing rings?” He pulls back to check and does a double-take when he sees you in the dim light, “Why’d you change?”

“We’re at a university.” You explain. You’ve changed from your work clothes to a university sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, “I’d rather look like a student than a teacher. You should probably change too.”

“Oh...sure.” In his own fashion, he changes into a white shirt under a baggy, light beige sweater vest, a pair of jeans, and orange converse. He looks himself over once before fashioning a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to finish his look. “Where are we?”

“Eunha’s college.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why are we here? She’s still at work.”

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” You explain.

“You have friends?” He asks, earning an unamused glare from you, “Sorry.”

“This way.” You lead Taehyung off the grass to the actual path and walk under the lights back towards the main building. When you reach a fork in the path you make a left to go around the side of the building between another series of buildings on the other side of the path. You keep walking until you reach another large area with benches, tables, and a fountain.

Sitting on the side of the fountain with just enough light that you can see them, is a trio of 3 men with different hair colors. One with midnight blue, a pastel pink, and lilac. Of course, you recognize them all without a problem at all.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late, I just had to grab Taehyung.” You call out.

The pastel pink head turns to reveal Hoseok - who’s changed from his normal all-black outfit to a black t-shirt with the word obey in colorful letters, bright orange pants, layered necklaces, and a pair of black, yellow-tinted glasses resting on the top of his head, “No worries, we haven’t gotten started yet.”

“Yeah, Joon was just telling us about the assignment we missed.” Yoongi agrees, revealing himself to be the midnight blue head of hair. He’s wearing an all blue, leaf-patterned outfit with a TuneSquad jersey underneath his top.

“You wouldn’t have missed it if you made it to class on time!” Taehyung freezes as soon as he hears his voice, pulling you to a stop as well. He knows that voice better than anyone, knowing damn well it belongs to someone that’s supposed to be dead.

Hoseok shrugs and leans back, “What can I say? I had priorities to attend to.”

“I just wasn’t interested.” Yoongi stands up and takes a few steps to stretch, revealing Namjoon sitting at the end of the three.

Namjoon is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a black belt with a white shirt tucked in and a light blue button-up over it. He sighs, “How you have the highest marks in the class I will never know.”

Taehyung looks between the three of them, going back and forth between the two deities and Namjoon before settling on you, “What is going on right now?”

You squeeze his hand, “Just don’t say anything.” You pull him with you to join the others, coming to a stop in front of all of them. You point to the blonde and then to Hoseok, “Taehyung, this is Hoseok-”

The walking gumball throws up a peace sign, “Sup.”

“-Yoongi.”

“Hey.” He gives a small wave

“-And Namjoon.”

Namjoon is the only one to stand and walk up to Taehyung to offer his hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He asks, shaking the old king’s hand.

“(Y/n) hasn’t been able to shut up about you,” Namjoon explains with a devious smile. You visibly freeze and that only eggs him on more, “She said you were annoying when she first transferred into our class, then she said she thought she was in love with you.”

Taehyung gives you a look and you completely ignore him, “Namjoon!”

“Of course, we all knew she was,” Hoseok adds with a teasing smile of his own.

“Hoseok! Shut up!”

“How interesting.” Taehyung chuckles, happy to know how you feel even as you pretend you don’t exist, “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Why don’t we all move this way? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” You suggest, hoping to move on from your own embarrassment.

“Yes!” Hoseok jumps up and throws his arms in the air before dropping them back down to his sides, “I’m starving!”

Yoongi scoffs, “You’re always starving...”

“I’m growing. I need sustenance.” Hoseok defends, patting his stomach for emphasis.

You walk up beside him and pat the back of his head, “I think all of that food is going right to your head.”

Hoseok looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon sweeps into his defense, “C’mon, guys, don’t pick on him!”

“Yeah! Don’t pick on me!” He pouts, crossing his arms.

“He can’t help it if he loses brain cells without food,” Namjoon says, turning and grabbing his belongings while you and Yoongi laugh at Hoseok’s expense.

“Do you want me to swear at you?!” The poor god of Death looks absolutely appalled and utterly betrayed by the lilac-haired man. He huffs, “You children have no respect for your elders.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Yoongi asks, walking past Hoseok to grab his own bag.

“Absolutely not!”

Taehyung watches the dysfunctional chaos before him, in awe that the 3 pillars of balance could act like humans. Not just with each other, but with someone he himself once called a friend. You’re all so different than you are at the museum and the council meetings, it’s like you’re not even the same people.

“Tae?” You ask, pulling him out of his confused state. You hold your hand out to him, asking him to join you as the others continue to walk ahead. He accepts.

The 5 of you walk together, further away from the buildings on campus to the fence that lines the end of the property. You all forego the sidewalk for walking across the lawn, getting further away from the lights as you go.

Hoseok comes to a stop in the middle of the grass and Taehyung almost walks into him, “Do you think this is far enough?”

Yoongi looks around and shrugs, “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Notice what?” Taehyung asks.

“Way to sound like we brought him here to murder him.” Namjoon jokes.

“Namjoon. Hold my hand.” You say, dropping Taehyung’s for his.

Hoseok and Yoongi hold hands across from you and Namjoon laughs, “Oh, are we having that seance now?” He looks at Taehyung and winks, “Sorry, I guess we forgot to mention this part.”

“Just hold my hand.” You demand. He does and Hoseok takes his other, creating a chain between the 4 of you.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright, let’s do it.”

You and Hoseok nod in agreement and Namjoon nods as well, acting as though what you’re all doing is just a practical joke you hadn’t let him in on. It’s only when a soft golden light starts to travel between your hands and to him that he starts to get worried.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, fearful of what’s going on. He tries to pull away, but you and Hoseok are much stronger than the poor human. The light only continues to grow brighter, and the brighter it glows the more concerned Namjoon becomes, “Guys-?!”

The light washes over him like a wave and it’s like someone has opened his eyes for the very first time again. He takes a deep breath, and then he’s looking around at the others and at himself and at Taehyung and it’s like he’s experiencing life for the first time all over again.

“How did-? But I thought-” He struggles to find the right words to say, unsure where to start, “What’s going on?”

You step in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Namjoon, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I’m (Y/n), and I’m Fate.”

His eyes widen, “Fate…?”

You nod and Hoseok pushes you out of the way to make his own introduction, “I’m Hoseok, but you’d know me better as Death.”

“You’re Death?” Namjoon asks, obviously not able to believe that someone like Hoseok could be something as dark and daunting as Death.

“Death equals mercy,” Hoseok explains. Both you and Yoongi push him from both sides and he chuckles, “Sometimes…”

Namjoon nods, not yet believing it but going along with the information anyways. He turns to Yoongi, “Does that make you Life?”

“Was it my sunny disposition that gave me away?” The blue-haired deity asks, earning a laugh from the king.

You move in front of Namjoon again and gently take his arm, “And this is Taehyung.” You pull him to where the blonde stands, still in shock, “You two have already met before, but you might remember him a bit differently.”

You place a hand over Taehyung’s head and down his front, revealing how he looked the very first time he had met with the king, “Jihye…”

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, waving shyly as his old appearance morphs back into his college boy disguise, “It’s been a while.”

They both just stare at each other, one nervous and the other in disbelief. Taehyung can’t help but think of all the things Namjoon could want to say to him. How disappointed he is. How upset he must be. It comes as no surprise to anyone when Namjoon moves forward and pulls Taehyung into a hug. His arms cross behind his head and he pulls Taehyung as close as humanly possible without hurting him, “I’ve missed you.”

His words are like a breath of fresh air and Taehyung finds himself relaxing into the embrace and holding his friend back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too…”

It’s a special moment, one Taehyung never thought he would get. His first friend is back and it’s thanks to 3 very unlikely people.

“Why didn’t you come to see me after the spell worked?” Namjoon asks, pulling away.

Taehyung looks down, slightly ashamed, “I didn’t want to mess up again.”

“Again?”

“Like the first time. We’d been so close, but even if I had made it work you still would have-” He stops. He doesn’t need to say it. Not when everyone already knows what he’s going to say.

“But I thought once we broke the spell I’d have to wait until my next life?” Namjoon asks, reiterating what both he and Eunha had put together.

“Technically, this is your next life.” Yoongi mentions.

Life’s revelation comes as a shock to both Namjoon and Taehyung, “What?”

“You were supposed to meet in this life, but because you two just had to make it happen sooner-” Yoongi makes sure to glare so hard in Taehyung’s direction that his planet might even shiver, “-the spell tore your soul away from this one and placed it with your previous body once the spell took hold again.”

“With the spell broken, we were able to put your soul back in this body and merge them together.” You explain. The 3 of you have been sitting on this plan for weeks, and you’ve carefully crafted a friendship with this Namjoon since his soul left his previous body just to ensure you’d be able to make this change happen altogether.

“You’ve been able to do this the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung asks, completely shocked. You give him this ‘are you kidding me right now' look and he seems to get the hint, “Right. Fate’s strings…multiple outcomes.”

“I can’t believe this…I can’t wait to tell Eunha.” The modern king is still entranced with himself like he’s never looked at his body before. And then his words hit him and he realizes that Eunha isn’t here and has no idea that he’s alive, “I have to go see her right now-!”

He turns to take off in a sprint and Hoseok places himself in front of him with a hand on his chest, “Not so fast, deadman.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi groans, “You cannot just go hunting her down.” He’d spent far too much time conversing with young adults and various incompetent professors just for this plan to work and he was not going to let it all boil down to nothing.

Namjoon however, doesn’t understand exactly what’s at stake, “Why not? I need to tell her I’m alive and that I’m okay!”

“The magic that brought you back is still fragile. If you go to her now then the whole thing could blow up in all of our faces!” Hoseok explains in his own, dramatic fashion.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just wait?!” The king asks in disbelief.

“It will happen as Fate allows.” You remind him, “You’ve waited this long for a miracle, I think you can wait just a bit more.”

Your words are simple and still just as cryptic as always, but they put him at ease and bring him back to his senses. He nods, “Right…”

“Geez, why couldn’t you have been that easy?” Yoongi says, turning to Taehyung.

The blonde scoffs, “I am easy!”

Hoseok laughs, “I don’t think you actually know what that means.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“Well, now that we got all of that settled-” Hoseok claps his hands together loudly and rubs them together, “-let’s go get some grub.”

Yoongi turns to Hoseok in disbelief and hits his arm, “Are you serious, right now? You don’t need to eat to survive!” The blue-haired deity reminds him.

“But Namjoon does! I’m sure Namjoon would love a nice warm meal.” Hoseok turns to the poor human with a look that resembles a kicked puppy and it’s like they’ve gone back to being undercover again.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat I guess?” Namjoon caves, the god of Death breaking into celebration while the god of Life can only sigh in disappointment, “If we go to that one place downtown we can order drinks at the student price.”

The offer of a few beers seems to peak Yoongi’s interest much more than a measly human meal, “Hoseok gets to pay for everything.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I don’t care. It’s not like I can’t create my own money.”

He turns to get back on track for the gate to leave campus and Namjoon trails after him, “Wait you can do that?! How does that even work?”

“Oh, don’t get him started. Just blame magic like every other human and let’s get to the bus before it leaves.” Yoongi calls out, starting at a slower pace behind them. They leave you and Taehyung to take the back of the group, the both of you trudging along at a slow pace behind them.

“So, are you going back to your duties now that everything is done?” Taehyung asks. A part of him hopes that you’ll stick around or maybe even come to visit him on his own planet, but he knows that you have your own duties to attend to.

But you’ve thought about this as well. You knew that once Namjoon’s memories were merged and he’d be left to go and find Eunha on his own, that you’d be free to go back to how you were before this fiasco started. But things are different now. Now, you have Taehyung who’s snuck his way into your heart and made you feel emotions that you’d left reserved for humans. He’s helped you understand how to feel without letting it interfere with your job, and you don’t want to let that go just yet.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t have a planet of my own. I really just drift freely within space when I’m not doing anything.” You kick at the dirt, “Maybe I could stay here on Earth. Do what humans do.”

He’s shocked, “You’re staying on earth?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I heard there’s this museum with this ancient mummy exhibit.” With a mischievous, all-knowing grin you ask, “Wanna go check it out sometime?”

Taehyung can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face. He takes his arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, “I’d love to.”

You may not be able to look at your own future together, but at least you know that the both of you can do it together.

Maybe Hui was right.

Maybe for Fate, the future is written in the stars.

~ Thank you for reading ~

[midnightwhispers12]

So, I have this idea in my head, and I’ll never write it out into a coherent fic, but the basic outline is:

The story starts with a montage of Stiles doing his caretaker-shtick - grocery shopping, cooking healthy meals, washing dishes, cleaning up the pack’s shared spaces, planning ahead for who needs to be where at what time, making sure everyone has everything they need, doing laundry, reminding the ‘wolves to schedule themselves off when they inevitably forget what day the full moon is again, etc, etc.

But.

The thing is? Stiles hates it. He HATES it. He started doing this stuff for his dad after his mom died and his dad disappeared into the office and a bottle of Jack, but it was always an obligation of the “if I’m more useful and less trouble, maybe he’ll want to spend time with me more often” variety. Their relationship eventually got better again (mostly), but if Stiles stopped doing the household chores, they just didn’t ever seem to get done. And eventually, they’d be out of food for the second week in a row, or he’d run out of clean clothes, or bathtub would be growing the mold that aggravated Scott’s asthma again, and Stiles would give in and just take care of it. And after enough times of trying to subtly shift some of the responsibility back onto his dad, and it failing every time, he just quit trying. It was less infuriating to do just do it himself.

When he moved in with Derek, some small, unspoken part of him was hoping that things would change. And, in Derek’s defense, it’s not like he just immediately refused to do anything around the apartment. But Stiles had a long habit at that point of just doing what needed done, and not waiting for someone else to do it. So he’d pick up groceries on his way home from work or class, and it wasn’t like he was going to intentionally not get the bananas for Derek’s nasty protein shakes while he was there anyway. He’d do his own laundry, and throw Derek’s laundry in too, because there’s no need to waste water on two half-full loads.

And slowly but surely, almost without even realizing it, he was back to being responsible for ALL the household chores. It only got worse once the pack filtered back in to living in Beacon Hills full time as they finished their degrees. A pack meeting needed to happen, so who was responsible for planning it? Stiles. Who was in charge of knowing when everyone was available? Stiles. Who had to clean up when the pack showed up uninvited and left their living room and kitchen in shambles? Stiles.

It’s not like he got to just stop taking care of his dad’s house either. He didn’t do as much anymore, but he and Derek had dinner at his dad’s at least every Sunday evening. They used to bring take-out over, but after the Sheriff gained 20lbs and got chewed out by his doctor for his cholesterol levels, Stiles went back to cooking for all of them every Sunday. Which turned into bringing groceries over for the meal he intended to make, because John didn’t have what he needed in the house. Which turned into bringing over a week’s worth of groceries, because the pantry and fridge were completely bare. Which turned into meal-prepping for the next week after dinner, while his dad and Derek watched whatever ESPN was showing, because seriously, eating fast food six days a week was just beyond unhealthy. And if he wanted space to cook, he had to do the week’s worth of dishes piled up in the sink. Plus, he always wound up cleaning whatever bathroom he used if he needed the toilet while they were visiting, because... gross. At least his dad seemed to be doing his own laundry now?

It doesn’t happen all at once, of course. Things build up over time, so slowly he doesn’t notice taking on one more task, and one more, and one more. No one likes doing chores, right? But someone’s got to do them. Someone has to plan ahead for the pack. If he sees that something needs done, it’s best to just go ahead and do it and get it over with, right?

Until one day, he’s just exhausted. It doesn’t make any sense, because he slept a full 7 hours last night, work is no more stressful than normal, there’s not a murderous monster of the week trying to kill everyone, nothing is wrong - everything’s actually been going surprisingly well for a while now. But Stiles is still completely and utterly wiped. Maybe he’s coming down with a bug or something? Since it’s Saturday, he decides to just take it easy and hopefully he’ll feel better tomorrow.

Derek comes over and scratches his scalp, taking a beyond obvious sniff of him (weirdo werewolves) when he sees there’s no breakfast happening, but just kisses his head and gets himself a bowl of cereal when he doesn’t smell anything amiss. The pack comes over and someone throws together sandwiches for lunch, and then they order takeout for supper. His dad shows up after his shift is over, and really, it’s a pretty typical Saturday, other than Stiles staying on the couch most of the day, instead of being up and moving around constantly. By midnight, he still doesn’t feel sick, which is good, and his mind and body both feel a little more rested. But he’s still somehow... existentially exhausted, maybe? Or something like that anyway, he doesn’t really know. It doesn’t make any sense!

But then he gets up to go to the bathroom and refill his water bottle. He looks around, and sees the clutter around the living room - the scattered pillows and blankets, magazines and books, cups and popcorn bowls, crumbs everywhere, water rings and greasy fingerprints on every flat surface. He walks into the kitchen and sees the sink completely full of dishes, the countertops piled with empty takeout boxes and trash. His foot actually sticks to the floor when he takes another step, where apparently someone spilled something and didn’t clean it up. The half-bath off the kitchen is occupied, so he shuffles toward the bedroom, and sees the laundry basket piled high; he usually does laundry on Saturday mornings, but he didn’t get to it this morning, and clearly Derek didn’t either. He finally makes it into the master bathroom, and sees Derek’s wet towels from this morning thrown on the floor.

As Stiles takes care of business on auto-pilot, he thinks about needing to go to his dad’s house tomorrow - planning what to make for the week, picking up groceries on the way there, cleaning the kitchen, cooking supper, cleaning up, making meals for the rest of the week to put in the fridge, cleaning up again, probably cleaning the bathroom.

He thinks about all the other things he’ll need to do tomorrow here at home - laundry he didn’t get done today, cleaning the living room and kitchen where it was left a mess, which means dishes, trash, sweeping, mopping, and picking up all the clutter, at least. Then MORE meal planning and grocery shopping because he didn’t get that done today either. The pack decided earlier that they wanted to go to the beach next weekend, so that’ll need planned - who’s driving, where they’re going, food and drinks to buy and pack, sunscreen, towels, after-sun gel (because werewolves always say they can’t burn, but then they do, and they WHINE, it’s so ridiculous), extra clothes because someone always forgets, talc powder and wet wipes to get all the sand off before they get back in the car, umbrellas, toys to make sandcastles (and enough shovels that the giant children won’t fight over them), a volleyball for the net... so many things. And if he doesn’t plan ahead for it all, and gather everything they need, then no one will, and it’ll be a miserable trip full of grouchy ‘wolves.

The more Stiles thinks about everything that needs done, the heavier the invisible weight on him feels, and he finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling more tired than he did when he woke up this morning. Derek walks into the bedroom, apparently to change out of his tight jeans and into sweatpants for the last movie of the night, but he throws his jeans down on the floor NEXT to the laundry basket, which is RIGHT THERE.....

And something snaps in Stiles. The proverbial straw has officially broken the camel’s back, and he’s just DONE. He can’t remember the last time anyone else did a chore, or cleaned up their own mess. He’s not entirely sure how everything got to this point, but he’s abruptly furious enough to make sure it doesn’t continue on this way.

Derek trails off from his last sentence, looking over at Stiles when he smells the boiling rage coming off of him, and follows after Stiles as Stiles stalks back out into the living room to glare at all the people gathered there, werewolf and human alike. One by one, the pack notices the steam coming out of Stiles’ ears, and fall silent in apprehension. Stiles is irritated and annoyed pretty frequently, but this level of anger is rare. What’s the deal?

The deal is - Stiles is on strike. They are a bunch of full grown adults, and as of right now, they’re going to have to pull on their big wolf undies and start acting like it. He is DONE acting like their parent, and he’s not going to do it anymore. If they want to eat, they’ll have to cook. If they want to eat nothing but fast food and die of a heart attack, that’s their choice to make. If they want to live in filth, so be it. If they have a miserable trip to the beach because no one planned ahead and packed the necessities, well, it sucks to be them. If they schedule themselves to work on the full moon, that’s their own problem, he’s not warning them or fixing it for them anymore. He’ll be getting a separate laundry basket for himself, and if Derek wants clean clothes, he can wash them himself.

They want to know what happened to family/pack taking care of each other? You know what, what DID happen to that? When’s the last time anyone attempted to take care of something for HIM? When’s the last time someone else saw something that needed done, and just did it? Or do they even SEE the things that need done anymore? No, because they’re too used to Stiles just taking care of it, and they don’t have to think about it. But this system has turned them all into spoiled, ungrateful brats, and he’s not enabling that anymore. He’s just not.

At first, the pack thinks Stiles is just being overly dramatic, Derek had warned them he wasn’t feeling well, after all. But over the next few weeks, they start to notice. Things just aren’t getting done. Who was responsible for this before? Oh yeah, Stiles. Why don’t they have want they need? Oh right, Stiles stopped packing for anyone but himself. It’s just little things here and there at first, but they add up quickly.

Meanwhile, Stiles has given himself permission to quit carrying the mental load for everyone, and he’s stopped trying to take care of every single little thing for a giant group of people, and he’s feeling so much more relaxed than even he expected. Yeah, it’s a little strange not cooking for Derek, but they had a long talk about it the day after Stiles exploded rage all over everyone, and Derek sees where he hasn’t held up his end. Stiles staunchly refused to do any household caretaking for the next month, and Derek agreed; they’re going to talk about it when the month is up, and decide then how they can fairly divide their responsibilities. No one else in the pack has even tried to talk to him about it, not even his dad. They did show up for Sunday dinner like usual, but when Stiles refused to cook or clean the kitchen so someone else could cook, they wound up just ordering from the local pizza place. Stiles felt a little guilty as he watched his dad eat greasy pizza, but he reminded himself over and over that his dad was a grown man who could make his own decisions.

It takes time for the pack to feel normal again, and Stiles sometimes feels a little guilty about that too, but Derek is on his side, so it’s bearable. Derek is the one that had to clean up the mess the pack left when they all stormed out the night Stiles went on strike, after all. Slowly though, one by one, the pack members come to Stiles and each one quietly apologizes for taking Stiles for granted, for not appreciating everything he did for them. Over time, they all begin to take up more responsibility for the pack, and as a result, they feel more invested in the pack too. They become less a group of people thrown together, and more a cohesive unit. Stiles does start contributing again, but he’s careful to only take on his share. And he has to take some deep breaths to not burst into tears the first time a pack member comes over with a haul of junk food for movie night, and they actually thought to bring him Reese’s cups and Twizzlers, his two favorites.

He thought life was good before, and it was. But this? This is better.

[kidney9-9]

Weekends [Peter Parker x Reader] - Part One

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot :) I started writing this, going to go to a fluffy route and then it got sad and angsty lmao! That's why I'm planning on writing a second part to this! Thank you very much for reading :) I do not own the gif, credit to the creator.

This oneshot is set in the future, and everyone is alive :) The days in this oneshot is just Saturday and Sunday to clear things up!

Peter Parker x Reader (Angst) Warnings: swear words and kissing Word Count: 2.2k

--

Every weekend was put to good use.

This weekend though, you were bored and upset. Peter was supposed to be in the city yesterday, and he sent an apology, explaining that the meeting’s been extended out for at least another day. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

You didn’t like the idea of Peter following Stark’s footsteps, because you knew how much work it would be. All that business, and the Avengers, you didn’t really like it.

You’ve met Stark before, and he gave you a terrible impression. The way he greeted you as if you were just a little fly in his office made you so angry for weeks.

Peter made it one of his priorities to see that you two were to never meet again after you poured coffee onto one of his computers.

The phone buzzed in your hand, and you bit your lip, contemplating if you should answer it since it was Peter. You were still sad he couldn’t have just excused himself from the meeting. From what you could tell, it was something about a deal falling apart in Japan, but you knew Stark would probably fix whatever the issue was.

“Yeah?” You answered, rolling your eyes when you heard Peter’s automatic apologetic sigh. It was something you loved and disliked at the same time. He was always so… quiet compared to you. You were open, truthful, loud, stubborn, and Peter was a bit of the opposite. You knew he’d hide the truth from you about somethings, but it wasn’t really a big concern to you.

“I’m sorry babe, about my message. I think I’ll be back by like 10 tonight though. I know we always have like a date night or trip on weekends, but I think I’m too tired for a big thing. Is that alright?” Peter responded, and you could hear people mumbling in the background.

You laid back down into the couch, pushing your lips to the side feeling a little guilty. You didn’t like how he had to ask permission or say things to ask you if it was okay to do or not do something. You weren’t controlling, but Peter had some vocabulary or grammar that made it sound as if you were.

“Yeah, it’s cool, you don’t need to ask that Pete. I’m sorry I’m being a bit of a bitch.” You responded, twiddling your fingers a bit now after putting the phone on speaker. You were just frustrated, and you knew what you were craving but you needed to push it down if Peter didn’t want to do anything tonight.

“You’re not. Hey – I actually need to get back, I love you. And if you’re too tired, you don’t need to stay up or anything when I get back.” Peter replied, and you could hear the bit of panic in his voice and the raise of volume of the others in the room. You hummed back to him, picking your phone back up.

“Love you too, see ya.” You hung up quick, knowing he needed to sort whatever just happened.

--

You had the blankets pulled up over your shoulder, facing away from the door when you heard it creek a bit. You rolled over tiredly, yawning, and trying to blink open your eyes. “Hey.” You muttered, feeling your throat scratch a bit from the sleepiness.

“Oh, it’s okay, go back to sleep.” You were quickly shushed by Peter and you giggled a little when you felt him kiss your forehead. You nodded back and closed your eyes, breathing in heavily to start going back to sleep.

Peter changed into his pajamas, too tired to have a shower. He couldn’t believe how today was so chaotic. There was so much happening, he didn’t know how to handle it. Once he laid down on the bed, he didn’t bother grabbing a blanket from you because he was feeling too hot anyway.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to leave soon. He felt sick thinking about it because he knew it would be so long, maybe almost a year.

He wished he could bring you, but he didn’t want to push you into traveling to a foreign country with him. You were looking for a job here, and the two of you just moved in four months ago. He couldn’t put your life on pause for him.

Tony said it was urgent that Peter left on Monday. Something about a mission with Bruce Banner, and researching a mysterious reading one of the monitors caught somewhere in Northern Ireland. There were very possible threats and sending Peter there to protect Banner and the equipment was necessary.

He scooted closer to you, shaking his head from the distressing thoughts. He’d have to tell you in the morning.

--

“So, what did you want for lunch?” You asked, bumping into Peter purposely. You noticed how down he was feeling today, the look on his face made you confused. It wasn’t fun seeing him upset, and you tried talking to him about it, but he shook it off, saying it was alright.

“Does pizza sound good to you?” He replied, scratching his hair a little. You grinned back to him, nodding a yes. That sounded delicious, and that was exactly the food that you knew could cheer him up. You searched for the pizza place’s number on your phone, handing it to him.

“Your choice of toppings!” You laughed, in a singsong voice. He cracked a smile back to you, shaking his head at your silliness.

He pulled himself up on the kitchen counter, sitting and started to swing his legs. You chuckled at his actions, quickly going between his legs, and leaned up on your toes to kiss his chin. As you started to pull away, he pressed call on the phone, pushing speaker. He wrapped his legs around the back of you, bringing you back in.

As the phone started to call, you leaned up again, wrapping your arms around his neck to make him lean a little down to your lips. You giggled silently, kissing the corner of his lips, then glanced up to him again. You saw the bits of pink spread across his face as you stared down to his mouth again.

And finally, you glanced back to his eyes again, noticing they were closed now, waiting for a kiss. You took half a moment before you pressed your lips against his, and he instantly responded. He scooted closer to the edge of the table, as you kissed him deeper, spreading your fingers on the back of his head, playing with his hair.

“Hi welcome to Matt’s Pizza, may I take your order?”

You and Peter instantly shot apart, laughing silently at each other. Peter cleared his throat as you raised your eyebrows at him, grinning. “Hey, um, I’d like to order a large pizza, one side cheese, the other meat.” He responded to the guy over the phone.

“Okay, will that be all?” The person said, and you set a hand on Peter’s thigh, tilting your head to the side a bit, watching his reaction.

“Yep, thank you!” Peter rushed out, supplying the guy with your address. You giggled when Peter practically punched the phone to hang up, hugging you again.

You went straight back to kissing him, moving your hand back to his hair. You twirled it around with your fingers, and you smiled into the kiss, tugging his hair softly, as his hand scanned up your back. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, gripping your skin now.

As he pulled away for a breath, you sighed shortly, glancing away. “Peter, what’s happening with you?” You whispered, not wanting to see what he’d do. Whenever you confronted something to Peter, he’d always have this look on his face, and sometimes you could tell it was bad, other times you couldn’t.

“I just… There’s stuff that happened recently. And it’s really hard. I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t even understand what was drooping out of his mouth. He went over this so many times last night, how to explain it to you but now in the moment he didn’t really know.

“What is it? Please tell me.” You mumbled, looking down at his shirt. You watched his chest rise and lower with anxiety.

“I have to go on a mission, or like an assignment. I can’t really tell you the details, it’s in Ireland though. I know it’s super far away- fuck.” Peter shook his head, feeling too distraught. He couldn’t say it. This isn’t what he planned, it was supposed to be easier, and he felt a huge lump in his throat.

“What?” You glanced up to him, eyes wide. No way, that couldn’t be true. It must be a prank, or a joke at least. He likes jokes, but you knew he wouldn’t do this type of joke, right? You shook your head, denying it completely.

“No what, funny joke! Okay now, you can say it’s fake…Right? It’s fake.” You quickly added on.

When he didn’t respond, your smile dropped completely, and you backed away slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t choose to make it happen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’ll be.” His voice cracked, and you hesitantly put your hand to his face.

You cupped his cheek, as you watched his eyes go red, and you frowned back at them, shaking your head again. “Don’t cry, babe. It’s okay, it’s not your fault. When?” You mumbled back, trying to hold back your emotions. It was hard, but you couldn’t let him see how much this would hurt you.

You loved him, and if he saw you this upset, it would hurt him too.

“Monday, this Monday.” He responded, not understanding how fast this happened. He couldn’t get it, how the two of you were speaking about this. He thought you would be angry, and sad, but he couldn’t tell. You were being calm and quiet, and it was nothing like you. Especially for something like this, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I can’t – what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, slipping his confusion into his voice.

Your thumb moved softly in circles on his cheek to comfort him. You felt numb, but so hurt that you didn’t know how to react. How could you both have such a happy moment before and then this happened?

You didn’t know how to answer. You cleared your throat slightly, “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, knowing if you thought about this anymore, you’d have something to say.

It was too difficult to process. Monday? That soon? It was tomorrow. And you couldn’t see him for a certain amount of time either.

“Fuck, Pete.” You groaned, closing your eyes when you realized how much time you have left. “We only have today to say our goodbyes?” You added on.

Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s… I’m sorry I put it off for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t want to disrupt your life or anything when I go there, and I know we rent this place together, but don’t worry. I already thought it through, I can pay for however long you want to stay here if you’d like, um, and if I can talk Tony into it, maybe I can have some breaks to come here and see you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he stopped when he heard you sigh.

You pulled yourself completely away from him, walking to the other side of the room, needing space.

Fuck this, you thought.

You closed your eyes again, needing to silent your thoughts for now, and you didn’t even realize the tears running down your face.

“Y/n, please talk to me.” Peter spoke up, walking towards you.

“I’m scared!” You let out, surprising yourself. “I’m scared, what the fuck is this mission? Are you going to be safe? Ireland, Peter? What- what time are you leaving tomorrow? Can I come? Fuck, I don’t want to leave you. I’m in love with you!” Your voice kept raising in volume until you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders.

He spun you around to face him, and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m in love with you too.” He whispered, whipping away your tears.

“Can I come with you?” You repeated your question, with more steadiness in your voice.

When he slowly shook his head, no, your shoulders slumped. He pulled you into a silent hug, as you sniffled. After a few minutes of hugging, you could feel a slight wetness on your neck, and you hugged him tighter, knowing he was crying along with you.

“I’m sorry.” You heard the heaviness of guilt and sadness in his voice, and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“It’s not your fault Peter. I understand it.”

He kissed the side of your neck, and you loosened your hug. You blinked away the rest of your tears, pulling your face to his. His face was all red, and his eyes were still watery like yours were. You kissed his lips as soft as you could, wanting to savior it as much as possible.

“I promise you I will come back as soon as I can. I love you.”pe

[laurenwritesfics]

Here it is folks, chapter 5! Again, sorry for the wait but I hope it will have been worth it!

Read the previous chapter HERE / read the full series on AO3

Warning(s): Angst (sorry...again)

CHAPTER FIVE: ADJUSTMENTS

Things had started to feel calmer now. Time had begun to slow down, and Frank was grateful for the chance to breathe again. One Saturday, he returned from the boat yard to change his oil-stained shirt and caught sight of Mary’s journal on the kitchen table – Evelyn had forced her into therapy back in Boston, and though she had hated it, journaling was the one thing she kept on doing – it had been left open on a page filled with tally marks. At the top of the page, she had written ‘number of days without Fred’. Frank pressed his palms against the table and dipped his head. Perhaps Mary would always struggle emotionally in one way or another. He was beginning to feel like a failure. Was his best really good enough? It was impossible to tell.

Sunday was just as quiet. They ate together in silence. Roberta didn’t visit. Their new normal was frustratingly abnormal.

“School tomorrow.” Frank cast a glance at Mary. “Homework done? Books ready?” He knew he didn’t need to ask, but he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Mary’s fork danced around her plate. “Obviously.” She huffed.

“Sorry, I was just asking.”

No reply.

Mary scrunched her nose and continued to pick at her plate, retreating back into her bubble.

“Listen,” Frank reached over and put a hand on her cold arm “I know things are hard right now. But if you talk about it, sometimes it makes things easier.”

“You sound like Evelyn.”

Frank’s shoulders dropped. “You don’t have to finish dinner, okay? You’re cold. I’m gonna go get you a sweater or something.”

“I’m fine.”

He ignored her and left the table. Mary pushed him away every time he tried to slip her arms into one of her hoodies. He fought back, not realizing how roughly he was holding her until she winced and slipped off the chair. He immediately swept her into his arms.

“I’m sorry.” He rocked her slightly. “You need to stop being so fucking stubborn, Mary.” His voice cracked a little. Her tiny hands squeezed him as hard as they could and she rested her head on his shoulder. When Mary started to cry, so did Frank. He pulled back, brushed a strand of hair from her face and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I’m trying my best here. You’ve gotta give me something, kiddo.”

Mary nodded, paused and then ruffled Frank’s hair. He returned the gesture and tucked her under his arm, carrying her across the kitchen and into the living room. She was laughing now. They both were. Mary dangled in his grip, arms limp, then tumbled down, grabbing his hands and stepping on his feet.

“Can we watch TV?” She looked up at him, the dewy sheen of tears beginning to fade from her eyes.

“Sure. But only for a little while. You’ve gotta get up early for school.”

Mary threw her head back and groaned. “Why can’t I just skip class tomorrow? Everybody hates me anyway.”

Frank tugged on her wrists. “Hey, nobody hates you, okay? They’re just jealous of how smart and awesome you are.”

“You have to say that, you’re my Uncle.”

“I’m also an adult, which believe it or not, means I actually know more than you do. About people, at least.”

“Yeah, you are kinda dumb…” She nodded.

“That’s it,” Frank picked her up “you just lost your extra hour of TV.”

In spite of his attempt at sternness, he let her fall asleep on the couch.

Monday came, and Frank finally finished his work on the Celestia. One brief phone call later, he had been invited to join the owner for a trip out on the lake. Frank would usually have been cautious about this – especially with wealthy customers - but he accepted the offer simply because it would give him a chance to clear his head. It was better than sneaking onto someone else’s boat with a six-pack of Heineken at two in the morning, at least. As he wiped his hands on a worn rag, he reclined against the workbench in the corner of the garage. A soft ache spread through his chest. Deep into his biceps. Exhaustion snuck up on him without warning. The chaos of the past few months was finally catching up with him.

He waited so long for Mary to come home from school that he started to think maybe she’d gone on another adventure. His worries subsided when she arrived, shoulders pushed forward under the weight of her satchel. As she threw it down and began to unpack a stack of books, Frank realized exactly what had happened.

“Did you walk all the way from Jackson?”

“Yeah.” Mary squinted as she fumbled around for another book. “Lucy’s really nice. She let me take out a bunch of stuff.”

“She did, huh? Am I gonna be serving you dinner in your room tonight?” He half-joked.

Mary had already stopped listening. Frank shook his head and turned back to the stove to finish cooking. This time, eating in silence didn’t feel awkward – Mary brought a book to the table, fork occasionally missing her mouth as she sat absorbed in whatever it was she was reading. Frank pictured her walking down Jackson with her nose in another book and couldn’t help letting out a soft huff of amusement. She was almost happy. And at least for now, almost was enough.

When he checked on Mary, he peered into a room lit only by a small torch light. She was back in her reading tent. Even though the door squeaked slightly, she didn’t stir. Back in his own bedroom, Frank reached into his nightstand for his phone. Lucy would wake the next morning to a short, thankful text message.

Frank and Mary, however, woke to a prolonged, impatient buzzing. The doorbell.

He was tempted to rub his eyes again when he saw the woman standing on the porch.

Evelyn.

Frank was immediately skeptical, but he opened the door to her anyway.

“Well,” she popped a hip and adjusted her sunglasses “are you going to ask me to come in or shall I just stand here on the porch?”

“Mary’s heading to school in a couple minutes.” His jaw tightened a little as he watched her fingers flex against the handle of her travel case. This wasn’t an impromptu visit.

“I’ll say hello quickly, then.” She barged past him, the wheels of her case narrowly missing his toes.

Mary had a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and a book clutched to her chest. She covered her mouth as she hurriedly chewed and then walked around the kitchen island to meet Evelyn.

“Hello, darling.” Evelyn planted a kiss on the crown of Mary’s head, leaving a glossy pink mark in her hair. “Off to school?”

“Yep.” Mary replied, popping the ‘p’ curtly. “Are you staying with us?”

“Maybe. That depends on your uncle.” She inclined her head towards Frank in a way that she thought was comical, but it just made Mary cringe.

“Why?” She knelt down to shove the book she was holding into her satchel.

“That’s enough, short-stuff.” Frank intervened, steering her away from Evelyn. “Let’s go.”

“Have a good day, darling!” Evelyn called out, pivoting her suitcase so that it would fit flush against the wall.

When Frank returned, he slammed the front door and crossed his arms as he glared down at Evelyn.

“Alright, what’s this about? What little scheme have you come up with now?”

Evelyn smoothed her sundress and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “You’re so hostile.” She tutted.

“Can you blame me?” He strode over to her and perched on the arm of the couch.

“Not at all.” She clasped her hands in her lap and twisted herself to face him. “I wanted –“she stuttered, blinking “-needed to see my son and granddaughter.”

In that moment, Frank saw himself. The same sunken hopelessness. He noticed raw pink lines beneath her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Evelyn seemed human.

“This is about Diane isn’t it.”

“Yes. I couldn’t face another anniversary alone, Frank.”

“You called me Frank.” He mused. “Where’s the real Evelyn?”

She managed the smallest of smiles and reached out rub his arm. “I lost her a long time ago.” She was holding his hand now, squeezing lightly. “I won’t stay too long. I’m sure you must be busy.”

Frank placed his other hand over hers. “Stay as long as you want.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Her icy tone returned.

“I mean it.” He insisted. “It’ll be good for Mary.”

“How is she?”

“Honestly? She’s struggling. She’s stubborn about it, though.”

“I wonder where she gets that from…” Evelyn chuckled.

“She’s dealing with more than a kid should have to deal with right now. Losing Fred, the car accident…”

Evelyn’s head jerked to the side. “Car accident?”

“Don’t worry, Mary wasn’t in the car. It was just me. I was a little drunk, it was stupid.”

“For God’s sake, Francis!” Evelyn yelled. “You stupid boy!”

Francis. Boy. She was his mother again. Instead of fighting back, the ache he had felt earlier returned and he slumped against the cushions.

“After it happened,” his breaths were shallow, a lump forming in his throat “I just sat there thinking about what would’ve happened if...” both his hands and his voice had begun to shake “I can’t take care of her. Not in the way she needs to be. Diane would be so fucking disappointed.”

Evelyn took Frank’s face in her hands and kissed his forehead. He buried his face in her shoulder and allowed her to be the mother she suddenly wanted to be.

“Diane would be very proud of you.” She glanced up at the ceiling, fighting back tears. “I’m proud of you, darling.” She whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. “So proud of you.”

“I just want her to be okay.” He sniffled.

“She will be.” Evelyn turned to kiss Frank’s hair and then stood up, brushing a crease from the skirt of her dress. “Why don’t I cook dinner for us tonight? It’ll give you a chance to rest.”

Frank’s defenses were down, so he agreed.

That night, Evelyn made a shepherd’s pie and sat with Mary as she completed her homework. She piled chocolate ice cream into a bowl and made herself a martini. His mother was back, but she was still putting on the airs and graces of the woman she once was. He knew that if she didn’t, she would be more broken than she had been when she arrived. So he played pretend too.

Almost happy. Almost a family. And that would be just fine for now.

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[smol-and-grumpy]

Confidentiality - Chapter 2: The Meeting

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Four months. Four long months that she’s been hiding in lockdown. So when everything starts to go back to normal again, she’s going back to work as Jensen’s handler for the first Supernatural convention after the pandemic.

Chapter Warnings: A little jealous Jensen, flangst when you squint

WC: 1644

Beta’d by: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​​​ <3

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETE ON PATREON

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

On Saturday, Y/N’s waiting at the arrivals with the driver. It’s not usually their job to pick up talents from the airport but during dinner last night her boss received a call and disappeared for a few minutes. 

It was only this morning that she received a message from her boss that she should please go with the driver to pick up Jensen at the airport. 

She has a strong feeling that Jensen’s had something to do with it but her messages and calls that she made to him today went unanswered. 

He knows exactly why he didn’t pick up the phone and it drives her fucking nuts!

Standing there, with her arms crossed over her chest, she chews on her gum irritatedly. 

It’s about five minutes of waiting in awkward silence until Jensen walks out, rolling his little suitcase behind him. Wearing simple jeans and a hoodie, he hides his hair behind a baseball cap but she can see that he hadn’t cut it, nor had he shaved his beard. She’d like to think it’s because she said that she shouldn’t get rid of it just yet. Her heart does that weird little thing, tripping and all, but she’s keeping her emotions in check. She’s still annoyed and she should remember that. 

“Hey!” He greets both of them with the brightest smile.

If he noticed that she’s annoyed, he did his best to ignore it because he smiles down at her, “Y/N, nice seeing you again,” and pulls her into a friendly hug. He smells so good, it’s not fair to her because she’s upset at him and should not let him entice her.

Jensen moves away from her but lets his hand linger at her lower back for a fraction too long before greeting the driver. It’s invisible for the outside eyes but she knows.

The driver leads the way to the limousine and the two of them trail behind. 

“You did this, didn’t you?” she mumbles.

“Did what?” he too, keeps his voice low.

“Made me come pick you up.”

“Is that a crime?” he asks while he cocks an eyebrow.

“No, but it’s not my job! Don’t you think it’ll raise suspicion?”

“Relax, babe, nothing’s going to happen this weekend, okay? I can be professional, can you?” 

They stop at the limousine as the driver loads Jensen’s suitcase into the trunk and walks to the front to start the motor.

Jensen bends down then when there are no eyes on them, kisses her quick but rough, teeth biting into her bottom lip, making her squeal out in delight. Before she can even get worried that she’s being too loud, he is kissing her again, swallowing the sounds she makes. 

When he parts, he smiles down at her, it’s super cocky, “Can you, huh?”

“Is that a challenge?” she asks, not quite trusting him.

“It can be,” he shrugs.

“No funny business while we work together, Jensen.”

“None.”

“I think I’ll win,” she grins.

“Oh, we’ll see,” he pecks her lips once more before walking to the front, “Come on, it’s not nice to let the driver wait.”

*

They drop him off at the hotel and Jensen’s really surprised that she said that she’s not going to stay. She’s booked into another hotel, closer to the convention center.

“Why?” he asks as she walks to the reception with him. 

“I’m working, Jensen, being professional, remember?” 

There’s a sigh with an eyeroll and she chuckles.

They checked him in and she walks him to the elevator while she tells him about his schedule for tomorrow, “The driver will pick you and Jared up at 8 AM, be ready, okay?”

“What’s the first thing?”

“Your gold panel, as usual,” she says with a shrug, “Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” he says and bends down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear, “What should I do with my hard cock?”

She grins as he stands up again, and he presses his lips into a thin line, smirking a little. Still grinning, she stands up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “You have a hand and I’m sure the hotel provides those tiny fancy moisturizers.”

Standing back on her heels, she looks up at him and winks while he frowns.

“Good night, Jensen,”  Y/N turns around to leave and waves at him one last time, sees him shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

*

Back in her hotel, she makes herself bed ready, and has taken a rain check on the team’s night out because she hates to be hungover the next morning when she has to work. The farewell drinks set for Sunday Night, she can do and will do.

Once settled in bed, there’s already a text on her phone. 

 J: Going out with Jared, maybe I’ll find another girl to help me out with the hard thing in my pants

Y/N: Good luck, don’t drink too much.

J: There’s no one stopping me? And no comment on the girl?

Y/N: You’re working from 8 AM - 9 PM, that should be enough reason. And it’s not like we’re exclusive. You’re allowed to do whatever you want. And who knows, maybe I have someone in my bed right now?

 That’s true. They’re not anything, to be honest. Just two people who enjoy each other’s company. She never went into this wanting more, because she knows that it is probably not going to happen, so she’s trying not to let her feelings interfere with what they have. Even though living with Jensen was hard for her feelings. She got to know him better, got to know his little quirks. Even though they annoy her sometimes, she thinks that she would be able to make it work because she’s able to look past them, work her way around things that exasperate her the most about him. In any case, it’s totally unfair that there isn’t really much to be bothered about. She bets she has more things that annoy him but he doesn’t seem to mind them either.

 J: Do you?

Y/N: Good night, Jensen.

J: Do I have to come over?

Y/N: No, go out with Jared.

J: I can’t if I don’t know who’s with you.

 Her heart’s picking up speed. Jensen’s jealous. That’s a first. Well, he never had to worry about it since he was the only man around her for four fucking months! She kind of likes it, can’t lie about that.

 Y/N: Listen, I’m going to set my phone aside. Good night.

 Y/N hates hotel beds, it’s really not the same like sleeping at home and she tosses and turns. It was the same last night, too. But maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s because she’s alone. She was holed up with Jensen for almost four months, shared a bed with him, with his warm body next to hers. Maybe she just misses the closeness. She wonders how it’ll be once they go back to normal, wonders how her nights will turn out once she gets back to her own apartment, and sleeps in her own bed. Alone. Because that’s what’s going to happen eventually. As she said, they aren’t anything and they won’t be.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of tossing and turning, she eventually finds a comfortable position to be in and is slowly drifting off to sleep when there’s a sharp knock at her door. 

Her head shoots up and she frowns, “Who is it?”

“Room service!” the man on the other side calls out.

It’s ridiculous really, to be yelling room service when she knows exactly who it is. She’d recognize the voice anywhere. 

She gets up and walks over to the door, opens it up with annoyance, but only enough to let her head peek through, “You should not be here.”

Jensen’s eyes widen, “Wow, I’m happy to see you too.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Go, I want to sleep.”

“I just want to say good night.”

“Sure,” she chuckles, “You wanted to check if I’m spending a night with some other dude.”

“No?” He frowns and she looks at him with that cocked eyebrow. Looks at him so long until he caves, “Fine! Yeah, I wanted to see.”

“There’s nobody here.” she whispers, because she remembered that they have to be quiet.

“Yeah, no, open the door,” Jensen asks firmly. That’s one of his little quirks, he’s thorough. 

Reluctantly, she opens the door wider and her bed comes into view, “Are you happy now?” 

He takes a step in further, walks to the bathroom, and she has to roll her eyes so hard, her head hurts.

“Do you really think I’m hiding someone in my bathroom?” she hisses out from the doorway. 

Jensen comes out, and walks back to the door, “I like to be thorough,” he shrugs, as if that explains it all. His hand comes up to brush the knuckles against her face, fingertips trailing along her throat down to the collar of her shirt, “That’s my shirt,” he chuckles and hooks one finger into the collar, tugging it, “I was wondering where it went.”

“Yeah, it somehow landed in my suitcase,” she says, hoping that he doesn’t see the color rising up to her cheeks. It’s not even a lie, she slept in it the night before she left, so she just kind of packed it without even thinking.

“Good night, Y/N,” Jensen bends down, kisses her cheek, his beard prickles against her skin.

And it’s crazy how a cheek kiss can affect her. She’s getting all warm and fuzzy. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she swallows hard as he parts, and it takes everything in her not to fling herself at him. 

Jensen nods before he walks along the corridor to the elevator, winks at her one last time.

Chapter 3

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[orange-axolotl]

hurt/no comfort Phil being a bad dad thanks

Did my best anon!

TW: child abuse, negligent parenting, Phil has a favorite and everybody knows it

ao3 link: here

*

It’s the week after Wilbur’s twelve birthday that it finally sinks in that Phil will never love him or Tommy as much as he loves Technoblade. 

Wilbur had noticed the favoritism before, of course he had. 

He have to be blind not to see the way that sparring practices were never missed, enchanting lessons planned out weeks in advance, and custom armor was ordered for the warrior son while Wilbur’s interests were pushed to the side with an absent smile and a ‘I’m busy, son. You can go do that by yourself right?” 

Tommy’s first steps had been overlooked for the new way that Techno could enchant a blade. Wilbur’s last noteblock project had been torn down to make way for a spider farm so that Techno could learn the best way to kill them. (Wilbur had been strictly forbidden from going anywhere near it.) 

It’s just that fateful night when they’re having dinner together. The table quiet as each of them eat their fill until Phil interrupts the silence. 

“Me and Techno are going on a trip to the city.” Phil says.

The words hang in the air for a long moment until Wilbur can comprehend them. 

“A trip?” Wilbur asks, staring at his older brother who stares impassively back at him. He sets his fork onto his plate, his appetite gone. “For how long?”

“Just a week or so,” Phil reassures him, “Nothing to worry about, mate. I’ve got everything stocked up for you and Tommy.”

Wilbur’s fingernails embedded themselves into his palms. “When are you leaving?” he demands.

Phil frowns, “As early in tomorrow morning as we can.” 

“You’re joking.” Wilbur demands, his blood ringing in his ears. “This week is the week when you were supposed to be taking me to Icemeet to get me a guitar.”

The table goes still. Technoblade blinks for the first time in minutes, Tommy pauses in his efforts to make some kind of ball out of his mashed potatoes. Wilbur vibrates in his seat. 

A flare of strangled guilt rises in Phil’s eyes, “I - Oh fuck. Yeah that’s - that just slipped my mind, mate.”

Wilbur waits for one of them to offer to postpone their trip. He waits for somebody to apologize. Phil hurriedly takes a bite of his fish, looks over at Techno with pleading eyes.

“This isn’t something that can be reworked, Wilbur.” Technoblade offers, after a long silence. “I’m sorry.” “I - Whatever,” Wilbur says, pushing his plate away and scooping Tommy up into his arms. “I’m going to get Tommy to bed.”

He does exactly that giving the toddler a bath, a bedtime story, and a few lullabies until finally he falls asleep. Then because Wilbur really doesn’t want to talk to the rest of his family he puts himself to bed. He lies there awake, staring out of his window into the darkness. A few times footsteps stop by the closed door. Once the door handle turns slightly like somebody is about to come in. Hope builds in his chest until he hears footsteps continue down the hallway. If he cries himself to sleep then it’s nobody business but his own. 

*

Wilbur wakes up to the sound of something moving around in the kitchen. The first rays of lights are just entering his bedroom window and Wilbur stumbles out of bed. He’s a few steps into the hallway when a cacophony of noises explodes. Then a few seconds later the sound of Tommy wailing.

He races to the kitchen, his heart in his throat as he turns the corner to find Tommy sitting on the floor holding his head with both of his hands. His screaming has barely lessened to hoarse cries. Two wooden bowls lay at his feet, a few steps over there are several cooper plates and a pan laying on the floor. 

Wilbur drops to his knees in front of his brother and frantically tries to move Tommy’s hands. It only makes the toddler scream even louder. 

“Let me see, Tommy!” he finally snaps, “Let me see!” 

Tommy’s noise level move down considerably as he seems to realize that Wilbur is there. His hands move off his head so he can reach out for a hug. 

“Hold on,” Wilbur mutters, as gently runs his fingers across Tommy’s forehead to check for any bumps. Tommy sniffles and Wilbur gathers him into his lap. “What happened?”

Tommy shakes his head, “Owie.” 

“Looks like one,” Wilbur says, “You got a headache now?”

Tommy shakes his head. He’d been over the moon when he’d realized that even when he didn’t want to talk - which was oh so rare - he could still say his favorite word. After a few moments he squirms himself into a more comfortable position.

Wilbur takes a few shaking breaths, closing his eyes as his heart slowly calms into a normal rhythm. Tommy starts to push away from him and Wilbur lets him move out of his arms. 

“Hungry, Wilby.” Tommy says,his eyes wide and pleading. 

“Let’s get something together then,” Wilbur answers, standing up and holding out a hand. “How about something easy for today?”

He convinces Tommy into the front room where he immediately starts playing with one of the blocks that Phil had carved for him. How long had he been awake? Where were Techno and Phil?

He’s pulling on a cloak to go and see if they might be outside when he spies the note laid out by the backdoor. He already knows what it’s going to say but he reads it anyway. 

‘Wilbur,

Me and Technoblade are heading out. We’ve already taken care of all the animals. Eggs and Milk are by the door. Be good and look after your brother. We’ll be home on Saturday at the lastest.

Love Phil.’

Wilbur crumples the note in his fist. Tommy squeals out a laugh in the living room.

Of course, he thinks bitterly, of course.  

*

The next few days pass in a bit of a blur. If he’d thought that taking care of Tommy before had been tiring, now it was just exhausting without Phil or Techno there to take at least some amount of interest. 

That plus all of the chores that he was pulling to keep the house in working order. Water drawn in from the well, animals to look after, taking care of the garden, and the dishes, and the cooking. A fire that needs to be carefully looked after to ward off the early fall chill and a Tommy that is constantly there chattering away and getting the way at every turn. 

By the third night when Tommy screams at any attempt to get him to go to sleep Wilbur’s on the way to wishing for death. 

After he finally gets his younger brother to sleep, he crawls into his bed and expects to fall asleep immediately. Instead two hours later he’s still staring out into the darkness and wishing for his father and brother to come back home. 

The fourth night is when he takes a good hard look at himself and the situation that he’s found himself in. Tommy had woken up from a nightmare and had wailed until Wilbur had carried him back to his room and let him sleep with him. Wilbur wishes that he could resent him. He thinks that maybe if Tommy wasn’t a factor then he could’ve gone with them. A neighbor could’ve been paid to take care of the house, the animals, and garden while they were gone. He thinks about it and then just as quickly comes to the realisation that it would’ve have made any difference. Tommy could’ve just as easily been left with somebody. There were always people in the nearest town cooing over his blond curls and blue eyes and sweet nature. Anybody would’ve been willing to take him in for a week.

If Phil and Techno had wanted him to go then Wilbur would’ve gone. It really is that simple. 

It leaves only one logical answer.

Wilbur is the problem. The common denominator in this equation of three. He simply can’t compete with Techno. 

At some point that hadn’t been a problem, he knows. He can remember when he and Techno had been much closer than the awkward silences and half-stilted conversations then the ones that they had now. He remembers when Phil had so much more time for him and his smiles were bright when they’d been directed at him instead of an absented minded twitch of the lips.

When had Phil realized that he had a mistake of a middle child? When had he realized that Wilbur wouldn’t be good for much more than staying at home and taking care of his youngest brother?

He tries again to figure out if maybe that had been Tommy’s fault. Tommy who had been placed on their doorstep with a note that read only the name Theseus and how old the baby hidden behind blankets was. 

Had he shown too much interest in him at first? Gleefully declaring him Tommy when Techno had remarked that it was a big name for a small thing and carefully paying attention to help care for him. 

If he had then that was only him to blame. 

*

Thursday is when Wilbur decides that he’s going to make his own guitar. There’s no way that it’ll be done before Phil and Techno make it back but it feels important to at least start on it. He doesn’t need Phil to take him to get something that he can make himself. (Maybe. Maybe Phil will be impressed by it. He’s always loved the self-sufficient.) He throws himself into it with gusto, staring at pictures of guitars anytime he can. Graphing out the bare essentials needed for it. 

Tommy is taking a nap when Wilbur sneaks away to cut a box out of wood. He thinks that he’ll try and paint it yellow. His name carved into the side so everybody will know that he did it. 

He thinks about putting his handprint right onto the back of it. Property of Wilbur Soot.

For the first time in days he grins more for his sake then Tommy’s. 

*

Sunday passes by without a trace of his father or brother. He keeps up the routine, refuses to let Tommy know that he’s worrying. 

He stays up the whole night tending the fire. A way to make sure that if they’d somehow gotten lost on the mountainous slope towards their house then they would still be able to make out the smoke. 

When the sun peeks over the horizon he has to admit defeat. 

That day it’s harder to distract Tommy for the tenseness that is trying to knot Wilbur’s shoulders together. He takes him for a walk and lets him take as much time as he wants, an uncommon luxury that Tommy takes full advantage of. 

Every few steps he picks up a new rock and hands it to Wilbur who inspects them carefully, 

“Pretty color,” he observes for one. 

“Good for skipping,” he compliments another.

Each compliment has Tommy nodding solemnly back to him. This goes on until Tommy starts getting tired and then cranky and Wilbur ends up having to give him a piggyback ride back. 

He carefully inspects the trail back for any trace of them. He has to bite back panic when doesn’t find one. 

Dinner is a rationed affair of scrambled eggs. 

Most of it ends up on the floor anyway.

*

Monday night passes by. His guitar is almost usable now, all the wooden pieces made. Now he has to make the strings. The sun is still hours away from coming up. Tommy’s door is locked and there’s no way that the kid would wake up before he absolutely had to. 

He knows exactly what he’s going to use to make his strings. The wooden swords that Wilbur still practices with don’t do shit to kill a spider before it’ll maul you even with Phil’s careful design. He grabs an iron sword out of Phil’s personal trunk and walks out with confidence. 

Only a few will need to die for them and if Wilbur’s being completely honest there are almost certainly string somewhere. If not in the house then in the storage compound that Phil had built years ago. 

This is more about a statement though. If Phil and Techno are going to leave him alone then he’ll follow whatever damn rules he pleases. 

He doesn’t really know how many spiders he kills that night. More than he needs, enough that the sword is dented and showered in the black blood of the spiders. 

He has more than enough string. 

On the way back with the full moon and his lantern guiding him he picks a flower that reminds him of Techno’s pink hair and entangles it with a yellow dandelion. A blue flower the color of Tommy’s eyes quickly follows. 

He never can find the right shade of green to intertwine with them.

*

Tommy is the only one there to hear the first chord that he plays on his little makeshift guitar. It’s far out of tune and Wilbur flinches at the noise. 

Tommy shrieks back a happy laugh in reply. 

Wilbur strums another off key note, watches his little brother fall into hysterics.

“I’ll get it together,” Wilbur says, not actually angry. “Just you wait and learn.”

Tommy laughs again, “No!” 

Wilbur plays a slightly more in tune cord and Tommy huffs a breathless giggle.

“You wanna help me decorate this thing, Toms?” 

The rest of the afternoon they do just that. The two of them opening up the various dyes that Phil has laying around and doing whatever they want to the guitar but break it. 

Tommy’s little hand prints are all over it and Wilbur lets him. It seems only right, to be honest, the two of them sitting here together while Phil and Techno do whatever it is that they’re doing. 

“We’re having more fun then Dad and Techno isn’t that right, Toms?”

“Yes!” Tommy shouts, his eyes gleaming and a wide smile lighting up his face, “I having fun.”

“I’m having fun too,” Wilbur says, surprised when he means it.

*

Phil and Techno arrive back home just after he’s put Tommy to bed. Neither of them are hurt, Techno has a new netherite chestplate that absolutely hums with magic. 

They both collapse onto the sofa with identical sighs. 

“Did something happen on the way home?” Wilbur asks, anxiously wringing his hands together. 

“The weather is hitting early this year,” Phil explains, “We had to go around the pass. Added a few extra days.”

The room falls back into silence. Wilbur seems the only one who seems to realize how uncomfortable it is.  It’s been less than a week and a half since they left but Wilbur suddenly realizes that he hadn’t actually missed them that much. Tommy hadn’t even asked where they were. 

He almost resents the way that they’ve come back in and reinserted themselves into the house again. 

“How’d it go?” Techno asks, it takes a second to realize that he’s talking to Wilbur. “Is Tommy still alive?”

It’s a joke. It’s a mean joke but Wilbur laughs when Phil does. 

“Tommy’s good! You know he -”

 Techno waves a hand, “Don’t care, actually.” he says with a grin. Phil laughs and Wilbur forces a smile. Techno pulls himself out of the couch, “I’m going to bed. It’ll be nice to have my own room again.”

“I’m going to bed too, actually,” Phil says, yawning into the back of his hand. He gently pets Wilbur’s hair - just for a moment, not long enough - and then he’s walking out of the front room as well. 

Wilbur - with a lack of anything else to do - goes to bed as well. 

There’s a book of songs on his bed. He carefully tucks into his bookshelf with a small smile. (He hopes that they got Tommy something.) 

*

Wilbur wakes up to wailing from the next room, Tommy having another nightmare or maybe the small lantern had gone out again. 

He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles into the toddler’s room. The door is slightly ajar and when he peeks through he sees Phil desperately trying to calm the toddler. 

“Hey,” he says, voice pitched far too high, “It’s alright, Toms. You’re alright, mate.”

Jealousy burns bright through Wilbur’s chest and he quietly pads into the room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Tommy hears his voice and reaches for him from the confines of Phil’s arms. Wilbur pulls him into his arms so that Tommy can sob on his shoulder.

“You doing alright, Tommy?” he asks, “What happened this time?”

 “Bad monster,” Tommy hiccups, his little hands twisting in his shirt, “Not teeth.”

The teeth stealing monster, yeah, Wilbur’s already vowed to never forgive Sclatt for that little joke. 

“What I’ve told you about the teeth monster?” Wilbur says, walking back across the hallway so he can put Tommy in his bed. “It can’t hurt you if one of us is here. I’ll just yell and yell to make it go away.”

Tommy nods, “Za gives owie.”

“Dadza will kill it,” Wilbur agrees, “and Technoblade will make sure that it never comes back.”

Tommy rubs at his eyes. He won’t be able to go back to sleep without some warm milk and another few lullabies. 

“Do you mind warming up some milk?” Wilbur asks Phil. 

Phli nods, vanishing towards the kitchen while Wilbur mutters soothing words and rubs Tommy’s back. He’s back and Tommy drinks the small cup of warm milk until he’s blinking sleepily up at them. 

“Sl’p with you?” he asks, eyes going wide so he’ll get what he wants. 

Phil frowns, “You should really go back to bed - “

“That’s fine, Toms.” Wilbur says, gently tucking him behind him. “You want a song first?”

“Please,” Tommy says, putting his thumb in his mouth. 

Wilbur grabs his guitar from the under the bed, pulls it into his lap. Phil looks like he’s ready to say something but instead he retreats to the doorway, he doesn’t look impressed as Wilbur sings Tommy a sing his fingers slipping on every other note. 

Tommy goes to sleep as easy as anything though. Wilbur huffs out a sigh, leans back against the headboard. 

“I didn’t think that Tommy was having nightmares,” Phil says. 

“He’s been having them since you two left,” Wilbur answers tiredly. He thought that when they got back he’s be able to sleep the night. His own fault maybe for being so naive. 

“Oh,” Phil says, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. He changes the subject quickly, “You made yourself a guitar? That’s pretty impressive.” 

“I did.” Wilbur confirms, holding it out so that Phil can see it more clearly. Phil gives it a courtesy glance, a forming smile turning into pure bewilderment at the paint before Wilbur tucks it protectively back into his lap.

The room falls back into silence. 

Phil checks his watch, offers a stilted question, “When do you want to go get the proper one? In a couple of weeks?”

The question stings. Hours and hours of work for a guitar that barely works but has Tommy and Wilbur’s fingerprints and hand prints all over it. Hours and hours of work for a guitar only to receive Phil’s scorn. 

Wilbur hums noncommittally, his knuckles are white. “Maybe later.” 

He hopes that Phil can hear the ‘Never.’ 

“Alright,” Phil finally says after a long moment. He looks very tired standing in the doorway. Wilbur can’t imagine that he looks much better. Tommy lets out a mumbled half-word behind him, kicks against his back. “I - Goodnight, Wil.”

Wilbur softly strums something on the guitar and doesn’t answer. 

‘Me,’ he thinks as Phil closes the door, ‘The problem has always been me.’

[dakotafinely]

Thank you for writing my request!! I enjoyed the twist you put on it!

But like....now I’m curious about when April’s parents finally DO meet splinter and the bois- would she recognize Raph? I assume she’d recognize splinter bc I mean cmon rat man but Raph has gotten so much bigger than when she first saw him

Would you be willing to write that too? 🥺

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I WAS HOPING YOU'D ASK THAT AKSNSOSNDIFLENEHFODND!!

ALSO THANK YOU I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THE REQUEST!!

Also, before we get into it. April has two mom’s and I don't take criticism on that. The one that met Raph & Splinter will be referred to as Mama/Ma while the other will be referred to as Mom/Mother.

--

Most of the time, it was just April and her mama. Her mom with a job that caused her to travel often. Sometimes unexpectedly.

“But, the guys really want to meet you!” April begged, despite knowing her mother couldn’t get out of it if she wanted to. Her mother lightly kissed her forehead, before returning to pack her suitcase.

“I know honey, and I’d love to meet them too,” She stops to focus and folding a shirt and putting in the suitcase “but I have to go, they need me down in Texas for the week. I promise if I can make it back before Sunday I’ll try to with all my might.” She turns to her daughter. Placing both hands on her face with a gentle smile on her own.

“You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to,” she says and April sighs. Knowing she was right.

“Just... try and make it back as soon as possible,” It was April’s last plea. To which her mother turned back to the suitcase to zip it up. Putting it with the other one and looking to April. Her eyes shining with honesty.

“You know I always do,” she responded. Leaving about ten minutes later.

Saturday came, and April knew her mother wasn’t coming in time. Still, the guys at least meeting one of her mom’s oughta satisfy their curiosity just a bit.

Sunday came and April’s mama was running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Trying to prepare the house as much as possible before they came. April tried to calm her down. The speed reminiscent of a freight train.

“Mama please, trust me when I say they’re not going to care if it’s not perfect,” April said with a slight whine. Still, in a flurry she went. Tidying up things the boy’s wouldn’t have even seen to begin with. Like closets and bedrooms.

“Well I’ll care,” her mama retorted. Slowly running out of steam as it become one hour before they would arrive. Hair tied up and fizzled, clothes stained with deep cleaning messes. She huffed as she looked at herself.

“I’m taking a shower,” she told April “put the chicken in the oven when the-”

“When the timer goes off, I know.”

--

“I still don’t know why we have to wear clothes,” Raph spoke up as Donnie and Leo admired themselves in a shared mirror. Lightly pushing each other to get a better view. Raph huffed and smoothed out the red cardigan he put on for the 50th time “we never wear clothes any other time!” he said.

“Yeah, but,” Mikey slid up next to him, adjusting the snappers tie “it’s to make a good impression! We’re mutants, we gotta do something to make her feel at ease.”

“Her?” Raph asked.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you weren’t in the room,” Donnie spoke up, finally leaving the mirror before the pushing got to violent between the twins. Leo falling over with a yelp at the unexpected movement of the soft-shell “April’s other mom couldn’t make it back home in time. We’re only meeting one of her parents,” Donnie explained, looking relaxed in the suit, as if he could wear it all the time.

“But still!” Leo spoke up, popping up next to his twin as though he hadn’t just fallen “It’ll be nice to meet at least one of her parents,” he said “for a hot second there I thought we’d never meet either of ‘em!” Leo crossed his arms and sat with a happy smile. Also looking comfortable in his clothes.

“I’m just glad we finally have a reason to use these cardigans!” Mikey said, gesturing to his orange one. Raph looked back to the mirror, looking down at the red cardigan. Mikey had taken time to tailor it to Raph’s measurements, it would’ve been a true shame to let it go unused.

“Alright my sons!” Splinter emerged from his room. The boys stared at him, his suit looking dapper, a sight unusual for the boys. He held a brightly wrapped gift in his hands. Clearly spending most of his time on it as the bow on top was complex and beautiful. He grinned “Let’s go!”

--

As the hours had become mere minutes. A dread filled April’s stomach. She’d yet to tell her mom’s the truth about her friends. But she knew if she didn’t do it now she’d be asking for disaster later.

“Mama,” April said, mouth dry as she didn’t really look at her. April’s mama looked from the table she was decorating. Concern following her features as she saw the way her daughter was standing.

“What’s wrong baby?” She moved, stopping her task and put a hand on April’s shoulder. Using the other to move April’s face gently to make April face her. April looked nervous, with a mixture of fear. The type of fear you feel when you believe you’re about to be rejected.

“There’s... something I gotta tell you about my friends.” April said “Before they get here, so you can be ready.” She continued, studying her mama’s facial expression. It was mainly confused.

“What is it? What-” A lightbulb went over her head “Oh! Are they gang members? Is that why you’ve been out all hours of the night because April-”

“No!” April spoke a laugh of disbelief, relaxing a bit. Mama relaxed a bit as well, that was her worst fear. The last thing she would ever wish on her daughter is to be swept in something as dangerous as a gang. Especially with some of the very...  bizarre ones in New York.

“Well, then whatever it is will be alright with me,” Mama said letting go of her daughter. Despite the concern on April’s face, as if there could be something worse in her mind then gang members. Mama smiled reassuringly “You can tell me, I promise it won’t make me think any less of your friends,” she added, wanting to let her daughter have open space to talk about anything.

April opened her mouth, when the doorbell rang.

“Oh! Well speak of the devil’s then,” Mama spoke with a small chuckle, already moving to open the door.

“Wa- wait! Maybe I should get it!” April began to protest. To which Mama simply shook her head as she placed her hand on the doorknob.

“Nonsense April,” Mama said, already opening the door, “I’d love to-” She stopped as her eyes landed on the five mutants in front of her. Recognizing one almost immediately. Eyes wide and mouth agape as she stared at him again for the first time in years.

Splinter couldn’t help but have the same expression. Feeling as though he’d been thrown into the past. Recognizing the woman, her long thick curls draped down her shoulders had light grey hair’s decorated inside them. She didn’t seem as slim as she was all those years ago. But the gentleness was still evident in creases around her eyes.

Her eyes flicked up. Four, there were four turtles. And despite the fact she hadn’t used the information for years. She still was able to identify each one of them with a glance.

A red-eared slider, a box turtle, a soft-shell, and-

“You!” Splinter and Mama said almost at the same time. Mama taking a step back as she pointed to the Snapper.

April finally snapped out of her horror as she had awaited her mama’s response. Becoming confused by the reaction.

“Wait, you know Raph?” She asked walking behind her mama. April’s mama put a hand over her mouth.

“Pop’s... you know her?” Raph asked leaning down, not-so-subtly whispering behind his hand. Having been to young to truly remember the trauma he’d gone through.

“Well, uh, can we at least come inside?” Leo finally said after a beat of silence. Earning an elbow from Donnie “What? She knows Raph! Or pop’s at least...” Leo trailed before realizing something.

“Wait, is she the one you meet when getting Raph back!?” Is what Leo would’ve said, if Mikey hadn’t said it first. April’s eyes went wide with the realization as well. And Donnie and Raph seemed a bit flabbergasted.

“I- uh, come in!” Mama finally snapped, swinging the door right open. There was a lot of explaining to do...

Eventually, everyone had settled. Sitting at the table as the last of the food cooked.

April looked to her mama, awaiting an explanation.

“It was... before you were born. I’d joined this sort of hunting group as a way to make quick cash. They’d needed a turtle and tortoise expert. And I was it.” April’s mama began. Hands on her lap as everyone leaned into the story.

“I didn’t go on many trips. Just a couple, I didn’t know what they did with the animals they caught. I always thought it was a capture and release type of thing. Since I only was really there to examine the capture and take notes before just, being on my way. But..” She took a deep breath “during one mission, they’d actually decided to let me stay from start to finish and...” Mama looked up to Raph with a small smile “that’s where I met you,” she said.

--

“Look what I caught!” A hunter said holding up a small turtle by it’s tail. The group gathered round to get a better look at the creature. But she was the only one who truly took notice of weird things about it. How it held it’s claw like a hand, whimpering in pain as it looked around. With eyes that shone of a bright mind, curious about the world. And unusual, toddler like form.

“Well O’Neil?” A hunter asked, lightly knocking her shoulder. Snapping her out of her study. They lightly gestured with their head to the turtle “what kind is it?”

“Uh,” O’Neil shook her head and took a closer look. Holding the turtle with care, making the other hunters snicker at her compassion. She ignored it as she flipped the turtle on it’s stomach, feeling the sharp edges of it’s shell. She turned it back and opened it’s mouth. Tiny hands pawing at the unwanted intrusion, but she saw the sharp curve of it’s beak. Clearly made for tougher meats. Of course, this one was easy, she probably could’ve guessed if she really wanted to “Ah, Alligator Snapper Turtle... which is unusual for this area.” She said.

It took everything in her not to take it back as a hunter ripped it from her arms like a lifeless doll. Laughing a bit as they put him close to their face, slightly sneering at it.

“Really now? Why don’t we cage this lil’ fella and sell ‘em?” They said lightly tossing him from arm to arm. The snapper letting out whines and distressed whimpers. O’Neil was in to much shock at the action to move to action as the others around her laughed.

Until the hunter let out a pained scream. Dropping the snapper with a slur of curses. Backing away as bit. The snapper had begun to get up and try and run. O’Neil noted, that it was on two feet and not all four, before someone else crushed him under their foot.

“That- that fucker bit off my finger!” The hunter screamed in horror as another went to grab the med kit from one of the tents. O’Neil’s eyes widened as she saw the little turtle spit it from his mouth, clearly in distaste.

It was after that O’Neil still had to watch them throw him in cage. But, he drew blood, heck he almost at a whole finger. They couldn’t release him back into the wild. Not with the taste of human blood now his system.

It took two more days for O’Neil to properly realize that it was simply self-defense. With no more incidents occurring, and the snapper unable to eat anything raw without immediately spitting it back out. The poor sucker was starving.

“Maybe he’ll eat the jerky,” O’Neil made the mistake of commenting it aloud as she watched poor turtle suffer in his cage. Whimpering out in hunger, sitting in the corner every time another human would walk by.

“Aww, what’s the matter little guy? Ya hungry?” The hunter he’d bit a few days ago spit out. Clearly begin sarcastic as he threw a piece of jerky out of the cages reach. Still, the naive snapper had went after it. Trying to paw at it from inside the cage.

The laughter surrounding her was sickening. It made her want to cover her ears and shout at them to stop. But she couldn’t. Instead she used her foot to nudge the jerky within reach.

Waiting a few minutes before dumping her bag inside the cage. She didn’t like the jerky that much anyways. She couldn’t help but watch with a smile as the snapper filled his stomach. A satisfied churr coming from him as he smiled back up at her.

That was it, she had to get him out of here.

Under the cover of the evening. She’d volunteered to do night patrols, in case something or someone tried to invade the camp. A shudder crawled through her spine at the idea. What could they’ve been doing to make other people come after them?

Still, once she was sure everyone was asleep. She went to the cage, crouching down in front of it. Relieved to see the Snapper crawl towards her instead of away. This would make it much easier. And despite the darkness, she could see his eyes. Shining with child-like joy and wonder.

“You’re not like the others are you little guy?” She cooed, trying to be as gentle as possible to not startle him. The snapper churred in response, curious but cautious. He understood her. She couldn’t help but smile wider.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ve seen snappers before and you don’t really look it,” She continued, before letting out an awkward chuckle. He did sort of look like a snapper, that’s why she was able to identify him in the first place “I mean,” she corrected herself “you do kinda, but not really if you get what I mean.”

A confused churr, but he leaned against the door of the cage. Silently asking to be let out.

“Yeah... sorry,” she said, opening the cage door. The snapper immediately went into her arms. Snuggling into the warmth and safety of them. The moon finally coming out from behind the clouds for her to see him properly.

Perfect, now was the time to-

As she’d turned to run off, she saw a rat. A large rat, wearing a worn down robe and looking as though he hadn’t slept in days. She couldn’t do much of anything beside stare. And the creature stared back.

The Snapper began to chrip happily, seeming to recognize the thing in front of her. She kept him balanced, still afraid of handing him off to someone. Within four days, it seemed she’d adopted the snapper.

But when the rat gently lifted his arms. Staring at the snapper with adoration and worry and hope. Hands shaking just a bit as though he could will him into his arms. O’Neil knew she was defeated.

She relented the child. With slow movements as to not scare either of them. The rat took him quickly and carefully. Hugging him like his own son, quietly sobbing with shoulder shaking violently. Oh dear, how long had he been looking for the kid?

“Go,” her voice was much hoarser then she would’ve liked, but there was no time for her to care. The rat looked to her, as if he completely forgot he was there to begin with. She couldn’t help but glance at the tents, afraid of waking up the others was lighting in her skin “if you want to get out of here with him now. You need to go,” she whispered. The rat nodded and with no words. Rushed off, leaves in the up kick at his unexpected speed.

She relaxed, until she heard a branch snap.

“O’Neil?” A hunter spoke up, clearly groggy from begin so easily awakened “Is that you making a racket?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she tried to sound as confident as possible. Not wanting to raise suspicion and make them aware of their escapee sooner then necessary “just go back to sleep, thought I heard something but I was wrong.”

She stood frozen in place. Waiting for a response. Before relaxing after a beat or so.

--

“Wait! What happened after!?” Mikey asked excitedly, immersed in the story. She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Oh, I quit. A month later we got you,” She booped her daughters noise. Making April giggle a bit and shy away. Mama sighed and leaned back against her chair. More at ease with the story out there.

“I always thought you guys ran far away from here,” she commented looking to Splinter “I’m surprised to see you’ve stayed, and gained three more turtles in the process.”

With that, the timer beeped. And everyone helped move the food for them to dig into.

--

I hope this one’s good! I feel kinda iffy about the ending but it seems like a good place to end it. I had fun playing more with this concept! I’d like to think the guys and April’s history went deeper then even they realized. (I kinda like doing that with ALL my characters, it’s so much fun to interweave them!)

This was a lot of fun! Thank you for sending me the ask!!

[anotherhamiltonblog]

Foreign Touch ch 4

Chapter Summary: Adeline and Thomas finally meet and go out! What do you think is gonna happen? Will things go smoothly or will things end in disaster?

Warnings: Once again, I didn’t proofread. Sorry <3 cursing? FLUFF annnnd Alexander being an asshat.

Word Count: 1,850 (Give or take)

Previously 

(new cover! made by ME. I like it!)

Enjoy!

Y/N really didn’t have much time to process what was going on when she was being woken up on Sunday. After spending all of Saturday with a group of kids to help them study at the public library. Only to come home and help Alex with his speech and work on the posters. Y/N was tired, her Saturday turned out to be busy, it didn’t help that she stayed up texting Thomas. In fact, that’s how she fell asleep. Phone on the pillow besides her head.

“Y/N!” a voice yelled out and Y/N groaned in response.

Opening an eye, she saw the time before narrowing her eyes. Who the hell was bothering her at 8 o’clock in the morning on Sunday?

“Y/N! Why the HELL are you texting Jefferson!” the voice yelled out again and this time Y/N sat up.

Seeing Alexander standing beside her bed, with her phone in his hand. Y/N’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “I mean, I’m helping him with something.” She said slowly and shrugged.

“What? Why the fuck would you do that? He’s an asshole, remember? We all agreed on that!” Alex ranted off while Y/N got up and slipped on her house slippers.

As she walked out of her room, Alex right behind her. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“No, Alex… YOU said he’s an asshole because he beat you in the debate from History class in sophomore year!” she narrowed her eyes at her brother. Knowing full well their parents and friends were around and listening to them. “He never did shit to me. I ignored him so I wouldn’t put up with your bullshit complaining.”

“Now wait a minute….”

But Y/N never let him finish. “If the shoe fits wear it, Alex. You are the biggest drama queen I know. And I’m around cheerleaders all the time!”

Thanking her mom for the vitamin shake, she kissed her parents cheeks before turning around and heading back to her bedroom. Ignoring the boys as they tried to hide their laughter.

Y/N: ‘Wanna meet up to go over the plans?’ T. Jeff: ‘Thought you were gonna relax today? We can plan another day.’

Y/N found herself smiling at the text and stopped looking for an outfit to wear for the day to reply.

Y/N: ‘Well, Alex found out we’re talking. Got pissy… I need a distraction.’ T. Jeff: ‘Alright… stop by my house and we can plan. Thanks for this again.’

After they finished texting, Y/N pulled on some black skinny jeans and her black booties. A red tank top and black jacket over it. Deciding to add a colorful scarf along. With minimal makeup, just mascara, some concealer and lipstick (after brushing her teeth), Y/N made sure to spray some perfume.

As soon as Y/N was ready, she grabbed her purse and made sure to chuck her phone into the small bag before putting the strap around her shoulder. Placing sunglasses over her eyes, Y/N left her room and ignored the boys who were all sitting around the living room.

After leaving the cup she had taken to her room in the sink in the kitchen, she passed by the boys again to walk towards the front door.

“Hey! Y/N, where you going?”

“Oui, mon ange… why not stay with us?”

Y/N smiled at Hercules and Lafayette; she could always trust those two to want to hang out with her. “Sorry boys, I have plans.” She smiled waving. “But, lets get coffee tomorrow before school?” she raised an eyebrow and grinned at them.

Walking out of the house, to her car. Y/N froze when Alex called out to her.

“Tell me you aren’t going to see Jeffershit?” he asked, and Y/N had to bit down on her lip to not go off on Alex.

“Actually, I am. I promised I’d help him plan something. That’s what I plan on doing.” She sent her brother a fake smile before getting into her car.

“Oh, COME ON! He’s….” but Alex stopped talking when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Y/N glanced over and saw John was speaking to Alex. By the look on the boys face, he was not happy. Which made Y/N grin and nod to John who glanced at her.

Backing the car out of the driveway, Y/N was soon driving to the Jefferson’s house. The GPS in her car turned on and guiding her. Not that it took long, ten minutes later she was pulling up to a gate and she had to stop herself from laughing.

Pressing on the intercom button. Y/N waited. “How may I help you?” she heard a voice and with a sigh, Y/N leaned her head out the window.

“I’m here to see Thomas Jeffershi…. Uh Jefferson. My name is Y/N Hamilton.” She shook her head and waited a few more seconds before the gates opened.

Driving forward, Y/N finally parked in front of the house and got out. Rolling her eyes when she saw Thomas leaning against the front door frame with a house robe, slippers and his hair a mess.

“Jesus… you could have told me you weren’t even ready for the day!” Y/N laughed when stepping out of the car. Glancing at her watch on her wrist, it was just past 9:30.

Watching Thomas shrug, he grinned. “It seemed like you needed to get out of the house. Come on, breakfast is getting cold.” He nodded only to stand up straight as Y/N walked up the steps and finally reaching the front door.

“Breakfast? Trying to get on my good side, Tommy?” she wiggled her eyebrows and laughed at the scowl on his face at the nickname she called him.

“That ain’t cute. Don’t call me that, sweetheart.” He stepped inside and waited till Y/N was in before closing the door.

After breakfast, the two making small talk about what they did on Saturday. Y/N finding out that Thomas was at football practice almost all day, while she was tutoring all day before helping her brother.

“Can he not do his own speech?” Thomas asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, he does. But he has all of us over and hear it to make sure it sounds good… so it’s us sitting around, making his posters while he reads for six hours.” Y/N shrugged. The two laughed.

Once the food was devoured, Thomas showed Y/N around the house, only to stop at the backyard. “This is where I was thinking of having the party. Lots of space, my parents love barbeques, so we could do something simple, not too fancy.” He suggested, watching as Y/N had out a small notebook and pen. Writing down ideas, only to glance down and see she had done a simple sketch of his backyard.

The sketch was simple, it had the huge pool, the lots of space and the trees. “Right, so we could do something at night… we string up lights and balloons...” she spoke softly, walking around and looking at everything and down at her notepad. “Twenty-five years represents silver… so that would be lovely. It would be in December as well. So perfect for the wintertime.” She went on, not noticing the smile Thomas had on his face as he watched her.

After a few more minutes, she set down her things and turned to Thomas, grinning. “What?” she asked, laughing quietly under her breath.

“Nothing… it’s just. You are so adorable when you plan. It’s like you forget about everything. You get a cute smile on your face as well.” He shrugged, on to notice the light pink spreading on her cheeks. “Are…. Are you blushing?” he stepped forward and Y/N shook her head.

“Whaaaat… no.”

Gulping slightly, watching Thomas, Y/N snapped out of whatever trance he had her in and turned around. “Right, uh…” she blinked a few times, trying to think of what to even say.

“Come on, lets hang out a bit. Then I’ll treat you to dinner. You know, for being so kind to help me.”

With that, the two spent the next few hours laughing and watching tv. Talking about school, Thomas’ trip to Paris and spending a whole year there.

A little past 6:30 that evening, they agreed on a pizza place to have dinner at and left the house.

Never in a million years would Y/N have thought that she would spend a whole day with Thomas Jefferson and actually enjoy herself.

»»-————　♡　————-««

The next day when Y/N, Lafayette and Hercules were walking towards the football field, Y/N dressed in her cheer workout clothes. Which was just a pair of plain black leggings, a hot pink crop sports bra and her white tennis shoes. Her H/C hair was up in a ponytail. They were each complaining about the last class with Professor George Frederick. The big-headed idiot who thought too much of himself. That and his love for giving as much homework as he possibly can.

“It’s like he wants us to get held back!” Hercules was complaining and frowning as they sat down on the beachers and Y/N passing her bag and jacket over to them.

“It’ll be alright!” She laughed and winked at the two before jogging over to the girls. Only to turn quickly on her heal when someone called out her name.

Sadly, for Y/N, the grass of the field was slightly wet and as she turned, she slipped the slightest and was about to fall. Only the fall never came. Two hands grabbed onto her waist and her own hands grabbed onto a muscular set of arms.

With a gasp, eyes wide as she looked at the man in front of her. Her body feeling like she was shocked from the touch. Y/N watched as the skin where she had grabbed onto, had handprints that matched hers. The print slowly disappearing before her eyes and so her E/C eyes looked into the wide, brown eyed male who held onto her.

She focused on his eyes, which were darting back and fourth, shining in the sunlight. They were a deep, earthy brown- the intense gaze making it, so Y/N held her breath.

“Alexander is going to kill me…” Y/N said softly, a small smile coming onto her lips.

Thomas just grinned at the girl and he shrugged. “Not if he kills me first.” Was his response before he leaned down and captured her lips against his.

The dreams now made sense, why she kept dreaming of Thomas since he came back. The pull towards him whenever they were together. He was her soulmate, the one she was supposed to be with.

Cheering could be heard from the girls, the football team whistling and hooting. Y/N could even hear Lafayette and Hercules laughing and singing about how Alexander ‘ain’t gonna be happy now’ not that any of that mattered.

Wrapping her arms around Thomas shoulders, fingers making their way into his curly hair. Y/N pressed herself closer to his body as the kiss deepened.

Monday, who would have thought that Mondays would be Y/N’s new favorite day of the week?

                                                                                                   Next Chapter

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Much love from me to you!!  ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

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