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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

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Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

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You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

#jake debrusk #jake debrusk imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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hellotherekenobi · 3 years

Text

───there’s a reason.

summary: you think you might have feelings for your master, but you can’t be sure unless you do something about it, which happens to be having a long conversation with him.

cw: padawan!reader, master kenobi. i can neither confirm nor deny whether feelings are reciprocated (or understood.)

requested by: @the-devils-littlegirl

ONESHOT. ⟶ 2,145 WORDS.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Having a close connection with your master came in handy, helping you out on more than the one occasion when you’d be on the ropes in a tight mission, but feeling close to your master was more tricky than any mission you have ever been on. It was forbidden and, quite frankly, dangerous. You couldn’t even imagine being caught out for it, or even worse being called out. Imagine that, getting fired from the Jedi because of how you feel for someone. No, it was better to not give in and to not say a word. Maybe the feeling will fade away in time? Or just maybe, you’ll start to lose your mind from keeping it all bottled up.

“So there’s this guy,” you say casually to someone you randomly met at Rex’s diner. “I really like him. He’s always there to protect me, you know? But it’s complicated.”

“What’s more complicated than having a crush on someone and not telling them?” they ask, sipping from their coffee. They looked groggy, like they had just woken up or were trying to recover from a hangover.

“Age, duty, the fact that he probably doesn’t even like me beyond our partnership.”

“Who cares about duty? I’ve always gone with my gut about these things and I’ve been just fine. Look—” they hold their hand up to show you a wedding band on their finger—“Eight years.”

“That’s a long time, good for you both.”

“Ah hell, we’ve been divorced more times than I can count, but we always find our way back to each other. It’s the love that matters.”

Suddenly you feel as if you shouldn’t be getting relationship advice from a total stranger, but before you can make a move to get off of your chair, a hand plants down on your shoulder and you don’t even have to turn around to know that it’s your master.

“I’ve got what we came here for. You ready to leave?” He asks, smiling politely at the person sitting beside you.

They suddenly look very awake, their eyes wide before they cough out, “You’re a Jedi?”

“Padawan.” You correct, almost wincing at saying it out loud.

“But I doubt you have much more training left.” Obi-Wan smiles.

When he turns his head to wave at Rex behind the counter, the person points at him and mouths, “he’s the guy?” to you, causing you to awkwardly shrug your shoulders and whisper, “yes?”

They groan, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan says, turning back into the conversation. He thinks they were speaking to him. “We should get going.”

You nod your head, slipping off of the chair and following Obi-Wan out of the diner and back to the speeder parked around the corner. As soon as you hop into the passenger’s side, Obi-Wan lets out a sigh mixed with a groan that you know all too well by now.

“I know that grumble,” you almost chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

Obi-Wan sighs as he settles himself into the driver’s seat. “The information I got wasn’t exactly the information I was hoping for. Looks like we’re headed out to a no-fly zone.”

“No,” you groan. “You don’t mean we have to do this all on foot, do you?”

“My young padawan, our missions are never easy.” he starts the engine up, passing you a small device. “This is the map. Do make sure to tell me which turn to take in advance.”

“That was one time, master.”

He chuckles, turning out into the traffic and flying as far as he can with your aid, before having to park between a thicket of bushes in what looks to be the middle of nowhere. You hop out one at a time, glancing over the area, hands on hips, eyes squinting, as you stand in a thick mist that about covers the sun, yet the brightness still breaks its way through.

By the time Obi-Wan and yourself are settled in the corner of a cave, after the wind suddenly picked up and almost blew you both off course, the sun is starting to set. You knew not a lot was going to happen on this mission in the first place—it was a study mission, or as you like to call it a lurk mission, as all you have to do is keep hidden, keep watch, and report back to the Council with your findings. You had hoped for something more comfortable, like a bed, or at least a room, but it will have to make due, especially because if you were going to be sitting in the middle of nowhere alone with anyone, you’re happy for it to be Obi-Wan.

He takes the first watch, then you take the one after him. You liked the silence, though it wasn’t really quiet with the wind. It was more so the silence of your master’s mind, as opposed to your own. When he was asleep, you didn’t have to put up a wall so high as to when he’s awake. You’ve trained under him for some years now and have learnt much, and have also used what you’ve learnt to keep Obi-Wan from the truth. Honestly, how embarrassing is it that out of all the people in the galaxy you could ever form a crush on, it was your master?

You don’t ever plan on telling him. You just hope it will pass with time. Unlike some other padawans you know, or even some Jedi (shh, don’t tell anyone), where all they want is for their crush to like them back, you just want this feeling to go away. You know it’s wrong, you know it can get you in trouble, and above all, you know the consequences if anything followed through. But, when you think of that in itself, you shudder. That’s new.

“Any updates?” Obi-Wan mutters, turning onto his back.

Thank heavens your lightsaber was not in your hand otherwise the sound of his voice would have startled you so much that you would have tried to slash him down. Your fight instincts always kick in first and more aggressively than you flight instincts.

“Oh no,” he chuckles. “I hadn’t meant to scare you.”

“Surprised,” you retort, pointing a finger at him and then twirling said finger around your padawan braid. “I was only surprised.”

He says nothing in reply, doesn’t make a sound. He simply stares at you, furrows his brows a bit, and then leans up on his elbow. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re twirling your braid. Something’s on your mind.”

Damn it. Sometimes you forget how well he knows you.

He sits up, hissing a little bit from the ache in his back from lying on a hard surface. “Talk to me.”

Should you actually tell him? No, of course not. Hadn’t you only just reasoned with yourself how you would never tell Obi-Wan the truth? You’re keeping your mouth shut.

“I’m just a bit confused,” why the kriff are you talking?

“That’s only normal. We’d hardly be human without questioning some things.” He’s ever the supportive master. “What are you confused about? Perhaps I can help.”

Well, you don’t exactly want him to help. Goodness, the last thing you need right now is to be stuck in the middle of nowhere after confessing your feelings and have them rejected.

“Attachment.” It’s the only word you speak, just letting it sit in the air long enough for it to sink in with your master who, once you look over at him, looks like a Bantha caught in speeder lights.

“What about it...?”

Good. He’s unsure. He doesn’t have a clue where you could be going with this and that’s exactly how you want to keep it. You want to be able to twist your words if need be, without him already being two steps ahead of you like he always is.

“I understand why we as Jedi don’t explore that, and I have no intention of furthering my interest, but... aren’t we, like you say, only human for questioning such things?”

Maker, you’ve got him in a tight spot, don’t you? You’ve seen your master face armies of troops, even Sith Lords, but nothing has made him paler in the face than what you just said. It’s almost hilarious, but you happen to have enough sense in you not to laugh at him.

“Well,” he clears his throat, sitting up. “I can’t argue with that.” Himself. He means he can't argue with himself. “How long have you thought this?”

“A fair while.”

“I see. I must commend you on your curiosity, my young padawan.”

There it is again, the shudder. This time, with Obi-Wan awake, he notices it. His furrowed brows could almost snap in half at this rate. You better let the poor man breathe.

“It’s alright. Don't worry about it, master. Staying up this late just has me in my thoughts and I got carried away. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t worry if you didn’t just tell me not to. Twice.”

Alright. Can he just give you some space? How come he always knows what you’re thinking or feeling before you even know? How come he always runs ahead of you, even though you were in front literally moments before?

“You’re unbelievable.” you shake your head, lifting your knees up to wrap your arms around them.

He smiles. “Simply doing my part.”

“Would be nice if you didn’t do it so well.”

That earns a chuckle from him. It makes the air around you two just that more breathable, just that more lighter. It doesn’t feel as heavy now.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Obi-Wan speaks, leaning over to pat your leg comfortingly.

Good. You won’t tell. You won’t ever tell.

“I think I have feelings for someone.”

What happened to the original plot of the movie!?

“Feelings?” Obi-Wan asks. He wants you to say it.

“A crush.”

You know you’re screwed the second he starts playing with his beard. Did you go a little too far? Is this too much to handle, even for the renowned Jedi Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi? You’re not even anxious about what he might say, or how he might feel, you just want this to be over.

“Why do you think it’s a crush?” he finally says, yet doesn’t spare a glance in your direction.

“Why?” you ask, a bit confused. “Because... I think about them a lot, about what they’ve done for me, about who they are. I think about how safe I feel with them—how I like being by their side.”

Obi-Wan lets your answer settle in. He waits, in case you have anything further to add. Then, finally, he looks at you.

“A crush.”

Is that all he has to say? You know you didn’t exactly let all the chips fall, but you did just open up to him. A crush. Yes. You have a crush. On him. The fact that the one time you want him to be two steps ahead of you and yet he’s two steps behind is about to send you over the edge if you’re not careful, or if he’s not careful. A crush. Yes! You have a—

“Oh.”

It’s only now, after getting carried away in your head, that you realize Obi-Wan wasn’t stating a fact, he was posing a question. He asked you if you have a crush.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan confirms, and you just sit there in silence.

With how long you let it sink in, completely quiet, not even moving a muscle, you could convince yourself, and maybe your master too, that you’ve turned to stone. Wasn’t that a turn of events? But even so, what a relief. You let a breath out just as Obi-Wan leans over to tap his finger against your arm. Tap, tap, tap. He’s chipping away the stone. He always knows.

You run your hands down your face, burying yourself in them for a moment and then groaning out, “Thank, maker.”

Obi-Wan begins to laugh, nudging you with his elbow that almost topples you onto your side because you weren’t ready for it. You don’t have a crush! Yes, you like Obi-Wan. Yes, you’re attached to Obi-Wan. But it’s not love you feel, it’s admiration. Being a padawan and a person who’s never felt anything outside what you’ve been taught (or, really, shielded against), it makes sense that you blurred the line between the two. What. A. Relief.

“That was a close one.” you laugh alongside your master, making him shake his head. “I can’t believe I almost thought that I had a crush on you.”

Silence. The laughter stops, the wind kicks up, and you’re about to reach for your lightsaber to run yourself through.

Obi-Wan coughs. “You never told me who it was.”

taglist: @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @obiwns @immoral-rose @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @inukako @whyiminlove @cosmicsierra @dxnxdjarxn @voidmalfoy @darthkenobii @chogisss @nectav @disastereyebags @hellolitty @pradahux

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan imagine #star wars imagine #obi-wan fanfic #obi-wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi imagines #obi-wan imagines #star wars imagines #star wars prequels #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan #fanfiction #oneshot #star wars

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Plus One

Steve Harrington has had an eventful life. He's slain monsters, saved the princess, and earned his dignity back. But that was in the past.

It's seven years later, 1994, and he's still finding himself. His friends have been up to other things though, getting married and inviting him to those weddings.

It's the last thing he wants to do, but his roommate decides to make him go through all four weddings in hopes of finding someone.

And so it begins.

(chapter one)

It’s been seven years since the gang has had any incident or warnings or dreams about monsters. Things have died down in Hawkins. So much so that it’s starting to feel normal again, or whatever normal is for everyone else.

Steve feels like an outsider, though. Everyone he knows is getting married. Nancy and Jonathan, Robin and Kali, Hopper and Joyce, hell even Tommy and Carol tied the knot in Vegas. All of these, weddings he’s been invited to. Except for the latter, they sent him a postcard with a phallic drawing in the back.

He was used to moping, even if Robin had threatened to make him listen to disco to cheer him up. You thought it was funny though, it showed he had some emotion after all.

It’s not that he couldn’t continue his womanizing streak. It’s just that after feeling that connection with Nancy, he didn’t want to see different people in the morning. He wanted the one.

It didn’t help that his parents would call all the time now. Asking him things like if he’d found a girlfriend yet, or a steady job, or be constantly reminded that the clock was ticking. He was painfully aware.

He’d just come back from his stint as a bartender in some dingy club in lower Manhattan to the somewhat comfortable apartment he shared with you and Robin. Well, that is, until Robin decided to move in with Kali. Robin had taking a liking to you, you weren’t as girly and deluded as the other applicants they were going through and you certainly weren’t as bothersome.

Envelopes and bills spilled on the black mat you’d picked out, warding off visitors or unwanted guests with a foul word written on it. He gathered them, going through them as he opened the door. Nothing but bills and subscriptions.

What a joy to be an adult.

He let the things fall onto the taped up coffee table on its last legs and collapsed onto the faded green couch.

He heard the pitter-patter of your feet running into the living room. “Oh honey, you’re home.”

He snorted. “Haha, funny.”

“What? No ‘Hey how’s your day?’ or ‘Good Morning’?”

“Good Morning.” He mumbled face down.

You smirk, settling onto the arm of the couch. “How bad was it?”

“Oh god, so bad.” He lifts his head up, eyes rolling for dramatic effect.

“I’ve never had to clean vomit before in my life and now I feel so bad for what you have to go through.”

“Ugh, ok there’s a difference between cleaning up after drunk assholes and poorly malnutrition-ed dogs.”

He groans, stuffing his face back down. “My back is killing me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Grandpa, do you want me to rub your back or maybe your feet?”

His head lifts up again to narrow his eyes at you. “You’re only four years younger than me, this is your future! But also, yes please.”

You roll your eyes in amusement. “I’m never going to be like this at your age.”

He chortles. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Unlike you, I have a life. I’m active!”

“I’m not sure sitting with a pack of popcorn and watching sci-fi tv counts as being active.”

You gasp and rip the pillow from underneath him to hit him with it. “You’re the one who cried when Scully and Mulder -”

“Ahhhhh! No! Shut up!” He plugs his ears with his fingers.

You erupt with laughter, falling off of the arm and onto the floor.

You share a fun moment together before he groans again about his back. You think to resolve this with the expensive purchase you’ve been hiding. You rush into your room, if it could even be called that, grab the basin, fill it with water and back into the living room.

“Here, kick off your shoes.” You kneel down, turning on the machine and placing his feet into the water.

His tone changes the moment he feels the warmer kick in. He throws his head back in content and comfort. You take his shoes and place them near the doorway.

“Did you see this?” You ask, the gold of a letter catching your eye. He hums in response.

You use the keys to rip it open, the hard cardstock nearly giving you a paper cut. You’re greeted with a beautiful invitation, all black with gold lettering and cursive writing.

“You are cordially invited to share in a celebration of the union of Dustin Henderson and Suzie Smith.”

Steve’s eyes fly open as he turns his head to face you. “Let me see that.”

You pass it to him, getting comfortable in the little space and trying to remember where you’ve heard their names before.

Steve chuckles to himself, scanning the whole invite. “He did it. He really did it.”

“Dustin...is he the one you’re always talking about?”

“Yeah,” he smiles to himself, thinking of how much time has passed. “Kind of like the little brother I never had. Wow, I haven’t seen him since he was 15.”

You’ve never seen Steve so happy before. He doesn’t talk much about his life back in Hawkins and neither did Robin. You could only assume it was as boring like your own hometown and thus the reason for their leave.

“Isn’t this the fourth wedding you’ve been invited to?”

He sighs. “Yeah but, I don’t even know if I’m going to any of them.”

Your brows furrow. “Why not? You said it yourself this is like your brother.”

He lets the invitation fall onto his lap. “Because - I, I’m not as interesting as they probably think I am.”

“Pfft. So what? You want to entertain some people to spruce your ego or something?”

“No,” he crosses his arms. “It’s just everyone’s getting married, my cousin just had like his third kid, oh and this guy at the bar was showing me his grandkid and crying like crazy.”

“So? Everyone’s different, things don’t always have to match up. You don’t have anything to prove.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and runs his hand through his hair.

“How about this? We go and we just try and set you up with someone. Doesn’t matter who. It’s four weddings, there’s bound to be some marriage material in there.”

He side smiles, contemplating. “Alright.”

“Good,” you clap. “You need this. Plus there’s something wrong with the plumbing and we have to leave while they fix it.”

He groans.

January 13, 1994

Nancy & Jonathan’s Wedding

Portland, Maine

One Day Before

The airplane ride wasn’t too bad. Actually no, that was a lie. There was mostly turbulence and you spent most of the four hours freaking out and thinking that there was something going horribly wrong. Steve wouldn’t stop laughing at you though, faking that your seatbelt had come undone too many times. You shut him out by grabbing a blanket and trying to lull yourself to sleep without thinking about how you were suspended in mid-air on a death trap.

It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped, being able to hear Steve’s poor flirting with the flight attendant. You rolled your eyes, but you had to give him some credit. He was starting early.

Steve shook you awake shortly after touchdown, poking at you. “Alright good, you’re in one piece. Can’t afford to claim you as extra baggage.”

You faked a laugh and pinched him, earning a yelp from him and eyes from other passengers.

One confusing cab ride later, you both had arrived at a pleasant looking hotel. It looked over the ocean, which smelled and felt so incredible. It was cloudy now, the sun hiding away and making the hotel the sole focus of your attention.

You struggled to get your suitcase up the stairs, eventually giving up and letting Steve carry it while you carried the other bags.

“Geez, what’s in here, rocks?”

“Hey! I didn’t know what to bring exactly so I brought a little of everything.”

“You look like you packed for two weeks, we’re only going to be here for two days!”

“I work hard to look good, Steve. Which is less than I can say about this number.” You gestured to his wardrobe consisting of a worn henley, frayed at the end of the sleeves, a denim jacket and brown boots you stole from him from time to time.

He looks up and down. “I think I look good.”

You ignore him, continuing up the infernal stairs, mentally making a note to join Robin on her retreats.

You two are trying to catch your breath at the desk when you meet the attendant.

“Byers wedding.” You huff out.

When you’re handed the keys, you steer Steve into an elevator, not even bothering to look at the massive set of stairs even if they were decorated beautifully.

“Hurry.” He whispers, dragging the suitcases.

“I’m trying! You’re the one who packed all these jackets.”

“It’s cold, do you want us to freeze?”

“No, but we could’ve done with two!”

You both finally arrive to your room confused.

“Wait, why did she give you only one key?” Steve asks, hand on his hip like a mother.

“I don’t know, you’re the one that booked it.” You shrugged, sticking the keys in and opening the door.

“I clearly said two people in one roo - I see my mistake.”

A single king bed stares back at you both, tidied up with a towel teddy bear in the middle of it.

You glance at Steve, meeting his eyes before glancing back to the room. You both stay silent.

“I’ll take the floor.” You both say in unison.

“No, no, you can take the bed. Since you say you always need your beauty sleep.” He gestures to your face.

You snort. “Me? No, Grandpa, I think you need it more than I do. Wouldn’t want you breaking your back at the wedding and outshining the bride.”

He mimics you in a high pitched voice, prompting you to laugh.

“Listen we can figure it all out once we get everything unpacked, okay?” You wave him off.

He shrugs. “Fine by me.”

The tv plays in the background while you brush your teeth. Steve settles in the huge bed, patting down his pillow.

Once you’re done, you wet your fingers and rush into the room and flick your hand at Steve. You get him right in the face.

“Hey! I’m trying to sleep here.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Yeah well, we can have as much fun as we want tomor- what’re you doing?”

His train of thought is interrupted by you slipping into the bed.

“What? You really thought I was going to sleep on the floor?”

He chuckles nervously. “No.”

It amuses you. “Relax.”

He slinks back into bed, one arm under his pillow and the other atop his forehead. You grab one of the extra pillows and wrap your arms around it, your right leg climbing on top of it.

A few minutes pass and the pillow is too uncomfortable and sweaty so you discard it onto the floor somewhere. You huff.

You glance at Steve who’s snoring lightly.

“Steve.” You whisper.

Nothing.

“Steve!” You whisper a little louder.

He hums in response.

“Are you asleep?”

“I was.” He whispers back.

“Can I..hug you?”

That gets his attention. His arm leaves his face, now looking at you through sleepy eyes.

“What?”

“Can I hug you? I can’t sleep without the pillow making me sweaty.”

“Uhh, what about Danny?”

“We broke up. A while ago.”

His mouth drops into an O shape.

You shake your head, dismissing the thought. “Nevermind.”

Steve hops onto his elbows, “No! No, it’s okay. Really.”

You turn back, trying to see if he’s serious. When that sorry look is apparent, you nod.

“How do you - oh okay.”

You get close to his right side, swinging your leg over his waist and wrapping your right arm over his chest. He can smell your shampoo.

“Cuddling doesn’t have to be sexual by the way.” You murmur into his chest.

He almost asks you to explain that but when he hears your soft snoring, he forgets.

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #based on the plus one movie 🥰

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blazedgraysons · 4 years

Text

Killing Me Softly

The one where Grayson falls in love in under 12 hours

A/N: Here’s another fic inspired by literally nothing. I am pretty proud of this one though. To all the people who said nice things about Drunk Off You, just know that I read every single one of them and you own my heart and soul. Also, I know literally no one knows who I am but feel free to send asks or messages. I pinky promise to respond. ♡

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x OC (Harlow)

Warnings: nothing really, it’s pretty tame minus a lil angst towards the end.

“Are you B29?”

Harlow removes an earbud, looking up to meet big brown eyes staring back at her. It’s hard not to notice the rest of the man standing in the aisle.

Brown hair flops over his forehead as she moves her eyes down to appreciate the soft scuff lining his chin - not quite a beard, but not quite stubble. He’s dressed casually in a gym shirt that outlines every single bulging muscle paired with grey sweatpants and some Louis Vuitton slides. She nods slightly to his question, hoping the adonis of a man doesn’t notice that slight blush that’s appeared on her face. He offers her a gracious smile and effortlessly slings his carry-on into the overhead cabin.

“Looks like we’re neighbors then.” Harlow hums in acknowledgment, not sure why he’s so friendly. Most passengers would’ve just grabbed their seat and slept or occupied themselves, but this man intends on making himself known.

He slides into the neighboring seat, and Harlow is instantly overwhelmed. If she thought he looked good from afar, up close was even better. Here she could appreciate all the minute details — the dark mole on his chin, the expensive cologne, the 333 tattoo behind his ear. It took everything in her not to stare, so instead, she settles for quick glances hoping he would be too occupied by his phone to pay her any attention. If he did notice, he spared Harlow further embarrassment by not saying anything. She turns back to her magazine, a random Vogue issue she picked up in the airport convenience store to pass the time, mentally telling herself to calm down in order to get through the next three hours.

“ I’m Grayson, by the way. Just in case we crash, and you need to identify me.” He jokes, smiling widely and — oh shit, does he have a diamond in his tooth? Harlow is so screwed.

—-

Grayson’s never been a big believer in fate until now. The idea of some external force dictating a situation in your life just seemed like bullshit. Yet, Grayson couldn’t describe meeting Harlow as anything else.

He had been irritated all the way up to that point. An overbooked plane forced him off his original flight and away from his twin brother. Ethan had offered to go with him, but Grayson didn’t see a point in delaying their trip even further and told him he’d meet him in Jersey. While the airline was over apologetic and gave him (terrible) perks, in order to make the next flight, he had to sacrifice his first-class seat for an economy red-eye flight. But at least he had a shitty hot towel to make up for it.

He scowled all the way through the check-in and tarmac, vowing to never fly with JetBlue again as he passed the first-class seats that he couldn’t help but stubbornly think, ‘That should be mine.’

It wasn’t until he reached his row that he realized what he thought was a hindrance was actually a blessing. Because there sitting in the seat next to him was a beauty that could only be described as ethereal. Her long, dark hair tumbles in tight coils down her shoulders as she sits crossed-leg, hunched over a magazine, biting her lip in furrowed concentration. She bobs her head slightly to whatever song she’s listening to as she quickly flips through the pages. She tucks her hair behind her shoulder, revealing blemished copper skin that reflects the light.

A small voice in his head (that suspiciously sounds like Ethan) tells him to stop being weird and talk to her. Before he can justify themillion reasons why he shouldn’t, an annoying cough comes from the lady behind him.

He turns around to glare at her a little and asks the mystery girl her seat number with a smile that he hopes comes off as charming and not predatory.

And fuck, he knows she has to be a blessing because she looks like she was sent straight from the gates of heaven to Grayson’s heart. Ironically, the plane’s fluorescent lights form a halo around her head (‘Or maybe you’re finally losing it.’ Ethan's voice tells him.) He blinks, once, twice, three times before realizing that the girl in front of him isn’t a sleep-deprived hallucination and is actually real. He tries to act unaffected by the slow once-over her round, onyx eyes give him. Still, when he notices her eyes lingering on his chest and thighs, he swallows hard before throwing his suitcase into the overhead and sitting down.

The grumpy lady behind him gives him a look as she moves down the aisle, and he whips out his phone for a welcomed distraction. The girl, unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on Grayson’s mind and body, continues to sneak looks at him that were a little too obvious for Grayson to not notice. He debates whether or not to ask for her name until she turns back to her magazine and Grayson figures that she doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. It wasn’t until the voice in his head repeatedly calls him a pussy (‘Shut up, Ethan’ he thinks back) that he introduces himself. And when her plump lips turn up into a smile, Grayson pretends to not notice how screwed he is.

—-

Conversation flows smoothly between the two of them after that. Grayson explains the situation with his original flight and his plans to surprise his mom for mother’s day while Harlow talks about her little brother and the birthday party she helped plan for him this weekend. They talk for so long that their conversation turns from typical discussion to hushed whispers to not disturb the other sleeping passengers. They finally pause for a break when the beverage attendant stops at their row.

Harlow’s honestly glad for the lull in conversation as it gives her time to reflect over what she’s learned. Grayson appears to be very humble despite being heavily involved in the influencer scene in Los Angeles, something Harlow desperately tries to stay far away from herself. Also, despite being one of the hottest guys she’s ever seen, he seems to be so shy that it’s endearing. She notices he stumbles over words, getting so excited about their conversations that he trips himself up.

“So in LA, what do you do for fun? Any friends? Boyfriend?” He asks coolly, trying not to be obvious about his intentions (which makes it so much more apparent in Harlow’s eyes) as he drinks his diet root-beer.

“I work for a high- fashion company doing PR, so I’m always there. I have a couple close friends, but since I’m working so much, I haven’t had that much time for a relationship or finding a guy worth making time for.” Harlow sighs wistfully.

“Ah, that makes sense about the magazine.” He nods, trying to hide his excitement. This situation seems to be working more and more in his favor. “And what guy would be worth making time for?”

“I don’t know honestly. It just seems that all the guys I run into in LA are beyond superficial. All my dates have just been talking about how many followers they have on Instagram or TikTok and just end in hookups. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just hard when you want something more, you know?” She shrugs. And as much as Grayson hates to admit it, he does know. Hell, he’s probably been that guy once or twice in his younger years. Still, as he grows older, he craves the same things Harlow does: intimacy, connection, emotion. He takes another swallow of his drink before responding.

“Yeah, I mean hookups and one-night stands are great in the moment, but it’s hard when you just have love you want to give. It’s even harder now that my brother’s dating someone, ya know. Seeing someone you’re close with have what you want; it’s kinda hard not to be jealous.” He shares, hoping she relates and doesn’t think he’s weird for telling so much to someone he met a few hours earlier.

Harlow sits with that for a second before responding, “And what girl would you want to give your love to?” She whispers.

’Someone like you.’ Grayson thinks. But before he could make the bold confession, the plane announces its descent.

——

Grayson realizes almost immediately that he wasn’t paying that much attention to the flight details because the fact that there was a layover in Colorado flew over his head. He lets Harlow pass by him to stand in the aisle and grabs both his and her carry-on to take off the plane. As Grayson stands behind her (and tries not to stare at how incredible her ass looks in her leggings), he does what he’s best at: forming a game-plan. He realizes that a girl like Harlow is too good to let go. So, he figures he could grab a coffee with her, get her number, and plan a date for when they both are back in LA. He smiles, already thinking of the story he’ll get to tell Ethan when he gets to Jersey. As they both slowly move into the terminal, Harlow turns back to Grayson with a bright smile. He smiles back before asking —

“Do you want to get coffee?” He can’t help his heart from swelling as she bites her lip, a habit he notices she does a lot.

“Good, I thought you weren’t going to ask.” She laughs. “Wait here though, I have to run to the restroom.”

He nods, handing Harlow her carry-on. He sits down and pulls out his phone, already texting Ethan that he met his future soulmate.

Five minutes pass: He’s got the future planned out: the wedding, the kids, the farmland in Jersey and the tiny-home in Australia.

Ten minutes pass: He starts to get worried, but figures Harlow can handle herself.

Thirty minutes pass: He considers sending someone to the bathroom to check on her.

Two hours passed: He’s already cased the domestic airline terminal twice, looking for her dark curly hair.

It’s not until the final call of flight 437-A to New Jersey that he understands: Harlow’s not coming back for him. And he can’t help it when his heart splits into two.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan x y/n #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan blurb #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins x y/n #dolan twins fic #dolan twins blurb #grayson dolan oc #grayson dolan x oc #grayson dolan oc fic #grayson dolan oc blurb #blazedwritings

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starlocked01 · 4 years

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So Happy Together

AO3 @tsshipmonth2020

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan can feel when his soulmate's day goes from amazing to the worst possible day of his life. Ironically, this helps the stoic man comfort an abandoned groom who reaches out in despair.

CW Unsympathetic Virgil and Roman

Day 5 Logicality- You and your Soulmate feel each other’s strongest emotions

Logan was having an adequate day. Nothing had gone horribly wrong or fallen short of his expectations. So the intense happiness he felt all morning must be coming from his soulmate. It was worrisome when the happiness flipped to sudden crushing sadness. He wondered briefly what could have happened to cause such distress for this person but quickly put the thought behind him as he walked through town.

Ahead on the sidewalk, he saw two men in dark suits comforting another man in a white suit who was sitting on the curb and bawling his eyes out. Logan looked to the building and realized it was a cathedral. This couldn't be good.

Logan tried to keep his head down and walk past but the man in white called out to him.

"Did you see a guy in a purple tux run that way?" the man looked up at Logan with watery eyes, magnified by wire-rimmed glasses.

"No, I'm sorry. Perhaps he went that way?" Logan pointed off the direction he was walking.

The man in white burst into a fresh round of tears. Logan felt the ache of profound sadness in his chest and almost felt he could empathize with this man, even without knowing the situation.

"Oh, if I ever find Virgil, well let's just say there isn't a flight of stairs tall enough for him to fall from," one of the men in a dark tux scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Does it have to be stairs? Like that could kill him.." the other said hesitantly.

"Roman, he left me at the altar!"

"Yes, I understand that, Patton. But I mean, I'm not surprised he got cold feet. He was nervous during the whole wedding planning process," Roman kept speaking.

"Roman, if you don't shut your mouth…" the unnamed one said.

Logan felt trapped in the situation, both because of the loud argument and the strong feeling of empathy he had for the abandoned groom, Patton. He made a decision and sat down next to Patton on the curb.

"Was he your soulmate?" Logan tried to ask as delicately as he personally could manage.

"I- I don't know. It's so hard to tell, you know? But I love him and he ran away… everyone is in there and now I'm nothing but a joke and their gossip for the next month!" Patton's lip quivered as he wiped tears from his eyes. The two groomsmen kept bickering and Logan felt overwhelmed with no way to comfort the man.

He decided to be honest about why he stopped in the first place, "Patton, right? My soulmate is also feeling incredibly sad at this moment. So, I get it. At least in part. I'm sorry he did that to you; you don't deserve heartbreak," Logan took a deep breath. He was not comfortable talking about these emotions.

"Th-thank you, sir. I appreciate you trying to help. What's your-" Patton was interrupted by another man in a different shade of dark suit busting out of the front doors of the church.

"What the fuck is going on out here? Everyone's dying of heatstroke waiting for our blushing grooms- where's Virgie?"

"Remus, Virgil ran. Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on him?" the groomsman who wanted to push the runaway fiance down a flight of stairs gave the newcomer a steely-eyed glare.

Remus looked wide-eyed and utterly surprised, pointing to himself, "me? Janus, I thought that Roman was watching him!"

The three groomsmen kept fighting. Patton looked like he was about to lose it again.

"Ah, maybe he'll come back, realizing his mistake?" Logan tried to console the stranger that he felt too connected to. The sadness in his chest softened with a thrill of hope and Patton looked up from the street to him.

"Do you really think he might?"

"Ah, Patton, what if… Virgil found his soulmate? And decided he'd rather be with…. him?" Roman asked entirely too suspiciously.

Janus and Logan both looked hard at Roman. Logan suspected that Janus could smell the same figurative rat he could.

"Look, Patton, I am very sorry for you. This might have been a better outcome than it feels like right now. I hope you feel better soon," Logan stood to leave when Patton grabbed his hand.

"Wait!" Patton sniffed, "what's your name? You really didn't have to stop and try to comfort me, that was really kind of you," Patton gave a weak smile.

Logan felt his cheeks flush, "ah, Logan. Logan Crawford." He pulled his hand free and sped walk down the street, feeling confused and grateful? He could hear Janus and Roman arguing more, accusations flying about the best man running off with the groom as soon as the wedding was called off. Patton, whoever he was, had almost certainly avoided a sham of a marriage when this Virgil character left.

Logan’s thoughts didn't return to the ruined wedding for several weeks until his daily trip to the local cafe was sweetly interrupted.

"Logan? Is that you?" Logan looked up at the voice which was familiar but his memory could not place it. As their eyes met, he recognized the sobbing groom, Patton.

"Oh, Patton. Hello," Logan stated simply.

"Logan! Oh, I can't thank you enough! You were right, it was a good thing Virgil ran away," Patton sniffed and Logan felt an ache of regret and betrayal all too apropos for the situation. "He uh, he had been cheating on me… it kinda tore the whole friend group apart…" Patton looked like he was about to cry and Logan wondered how he'd accidentally made himself an emotional backboard for this stranger. "But the important thing is that we didn't end up married and unhappy!" Logan could see right through the miserable fake smile.

"Ah, I'm sorry that sounds awful," Logan tapped his pen on the cafe table.

"Oh gosh, sorry! I wear my heart on my sleeve. You probably didn't want to hear any of that," Patton flushed with embarrassment. Logan was getting worried for his soulmate who also was feeling embarrassed mixed with nervousness. "Um, can I join you for coffee?"

Logan nodded. Why not? He wasn't needed at the lab for at least two more hours. Patton walked off to order while Logan did a short meditative exercise. His soulmate often had strong emotions whereas he did not, so sometimes it was difficult to tell when he was feeling something subtle underneath his soulmate’s ocean of feelings. He wasn't embarrassed, he didn’t have any particular reason to feel nervous. Logan was very relaxed so most of these conflicting feelings must be coming from his soulmate. Poor man must be having a rough time lately.

"You know Logan, you remind me a lot of the things I loved about Virgil, before.. well you know," Patton spoke as he sat down, coffee in hand.

"How so?" Logan asked, curious about the comparison.

"Well, my soulmate doesn't have a lot of strong emotions. I've felt intense anger and satisfaction on occasion, but most of the time he must be pretty content. Virgil was very laid back and chill, so I kinda assumed he was my soulmate.. until he had a panic attack and I felt nothing… gosh! What I mean is that you have a very calm presence. It's comforting," Patton grinned sheepishly.

"Well, I have never been very emotionally vulnerable. I know I've endeavored to maintain a rational outlook on life. Emotions are complicated and blowing them out of proportion just hurts both me and my soulmate," Logan replied, surprised how much he was willing to open up to this slowly growing acquaintance.

Over the next few weeks, Patton "found" Logan at the coffee shop several times and they spent time talking. Pretty quickly they moved away from talking about heartbreak and soulmates, preferring to find common interests or even just introduce each other to their own favorite topics. Patton was fascinated with Logan's research and Logan couldn't help but admire Patton's enthusiasm for library sciences.

Logan grew to look forward to these meetings, and when they did talk about emotions he felt his own metaphorical heart filling with genuine care for the kindhearted man.

Patton couldn't keep up the pretense much longer and soon asked for Logan’s number so they could arrange meetings rather than him manufacturing accidental ones. His heart had felt warm and happy during the coffee shop meetups, and Logan’s presence always lifted his spirits in a way his ex never had. The first time they set up a dinner meet up, Patton felt an uncharacteristic panic while getting ready. That was new. It must- could his soulmate actually be feeling panicked?? Patton thought extra hard about the date dinner, wanting to give his soulmate a boost of happy to help with the panic. It seemed to work as the panic dwindled down to nervousness that Patton couldn't really tell who it was coming from.

Logan was a wreck. He didn't know what you were supposed to wear for dinner with a friend acquaintance. And he really wanted to make a good impression on Patton of whom he was growing rather fond. And he was out of Crofters, otherwise he would absolutely be slamming half the jar to calm his nerves. He felt a sudden wave of happiness and anticipation. Did his soulmate do that on purpose for him? It was very effective at drowning out the panic he was feeling.

Both men felt a sharp joy seeing each other at the restaurant. The entire evening was so pleasant and both left the dinner date with fuzzy feelings of admiration and happiness.

Patton suspected Logan might be his soulmate. Logan had a strong knack for knowing when he was trying to hide sorrows and fears, even when he didn't want his new boyfriend to know anything was wrong.

More importantly, Patton could feel stronger emotions coming from his soulmate more often and even if he wasn't Logan, Patton was very happy that his soulmate was opening up.

Patton found himself screaming during their first fight and when he realized what he was doing he stopped cold. The intense anger was so foreign to him, he felt awful. Logan didn't deserve this level of vitriol, no matter how upset they each were.

Logan’s anger melted into regret and shame as Patton apologized for going so overboard. Logan pushed this argument farther than it needed to go. He should be the one apologizing for his anger. It was all too much. Until Patton shared his theory and Logan had to agree it seemed like the only rational explanation for both of their outbursts.

They made a better effort to communicate each of their own emotions and found the strongest ones were always mirrored between the two of them. But by the time they realized they had to be soulmates they really didn't need the confirmation anymore. They would have been happy together and in love with each other anyway.

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #logicality #sanders sides #soulmate au #prinxiety #unsympathetic virgil #unsympathetic roman #angst #hurt comfort

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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

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What Happens in Vegas...

Part 1 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You wake up in Vegas with a brand new wedding ring on your finger next to Sebastian Stan

Word Count: 1641

A/N: I am super excited about this series! And it’s completely written (except maybe an epilogue), so I won’t leave you hanging when writer’s block hits.

What was a Vegas weekend without waking with a major hangover and a random naked guy next to you?

Ideal. That’s what that would be.

Yet, here you were. Hungover as hell. With a naked guy next to you. In your hotel room. So you couldn’t even sneak out.

Not Ideal.

Aw well. This was your last Vegas weekend ever, so you might as well go out with a bang.

The form beside you groaned and shifted until you could see his face.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed, prompting him to squint at you, slowly waking up. It didn’t take long for his blue eyes to open. Eyes you’d only seen on the big screen. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Who are you?” He shot back, voice still scratchy with slumber.

“This is my hotel room so I think my question should get answered first.” Sitting up, you pulled the sheet up to your chin. It was pretty obvious what had happened last night, but if he was even half as drunk as you had been, he wouldn’t remember. So… there was no need to flash your assets.

Sebastian Stan – yes, the Sebastian Stan – looked around for a moment before his thoughts were gathered enough. “I… don’t remember. I mean, I think I remember you from a club? But the rest of the night is blurry.”

“Yeah. I’m dealing with a lot of different kinds of headaches right now.” As soon as he left, you were going to dig out your medication and down a pill or two. You must have forgotten to take your pills last night.

His eyes widened when he looked at your hands holding the sheet up to cover your body. “You’re married? Fuck, how did I not notice that last night. I—shit.”

“Married? I’m sure as shit not—” Now it was your turn to ogle the giant ring on your left hand. “Wait a goddamn minute.”

The look of disbelief he was giving you sent your mind into hyper drive. “You’re saying that we…”

“Not necessarily. I mean, maybe it’s just a ring, you know? Maybe, shit I don’t know. Maybe it’s fake and we won it from one of those machines where you put a quarter in and twist the knob and you get a toy, you know?” By this point, you weren’t talking to Sebastian anymore. You were muttering to yourself, trying to calm the fuck down. And, for the record, when you tapped the diamond you knew it definitely wasn’t plastic. There was still the hope it was fake. Glass or something…

“And even if we did have a ceremony, that doesn’t mean it’s legal, right? Like, there have to be documents filed with the state and shit. I feel like I would have remembered that. But if we did file those, we’re in Vegas! The town that probably processes more annulments than any other city. It can’t be that hard. We’ll sign some papers at the courthouse and bam! No more marriage, no legal financial obligations when I die. I mean, this isn’t how I expected to end my weekend, but whatever, it’s an adventure. Something to tell my fri—”

“What do you mean, when you die?” he interrupted, latching onto the one part of your blabbing that you definitely hadn’t meant to say aloud. “You got plans to get in an accident or something?”

You could see the worry in his eyes and it took you a second to process what was beneath his question. “Oh, no. No, I’m not gonna kill myself. Don’t worry about that.”

“So what did you mean?”

How much to tell him? As a stranger, you didn’t owe him anything. But he was your husband, maybe. At the very least, you were both naked in the same bed. And anyway, what could it hurt? Telling him the truth wouldn’t change your prognosis and it might light a fire under his ass to figure out how to cut all ties with you.

“I’m not planning on killing myself, or anything. But my body seems to be doing a great job on its own. I have cancer, can’t afford treatment, and this weekend was my last weekend to cut loose before getting my affairs in order, you know?” Hopefully he would let that all slide. Not question further. “But that’s not your problem. We need to focus on figuring out if we really did get married, and if so how to—”

“Won’t your health insurance cover treatment?”

His well-intentioned question startled a bitter laugh from you. You relaxed back into the pillows, starting to say more than you needed to. “Yeah, sure. It already covered the chemo and radiation I went through. Those didn’t help enough. And I can’t afford to cut my hours back again at work. If I do, corporate will shunt me down to part time and take away my benefits. Ain’t that the American Dream?”

Shaking your head, you determined that it was time to get away from your sob story.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I can, uh, get dressed and poke around a bit to figure out how to see if we really are married. It can’t be that hard. I mean, how many accidental, drunken, Vegas weddings do you think happen here? There’s probably a website somewhere called, like, help-i-woke-up-married-to-a-stranger.com or something.”

That stupid joke rewarded you with a half-smile on Sebastian’s face. “By the way, wife, what’s your name?”

“Y/N. And,” you shrugged, “I already know yours.”

“Yeah?”

“How could I not? You’re in the fucking Marvel Cult.”

“Cult?”

You grinned. “What else would you call it?”

After a soft chuckle, he leaned back against the headboard, sheets pooling around his waist and you tried extra hard to keep your eyes on his face. “Cult’s a good word actually. All the secrecy.”

“Y’all got so many devotees, man. Like, if all of you sent out a tweet that said something about taking over the world, it would be yours.”

“You one?” At your eyebrow raise, he clarified. “A devotee?”

“Ha, no. A fan, sure. I’m far too lazy to get in a cult. While y’all storm the capital, or something, I’d be at home watching YouTube videos of Kelly Clarkson singing while I’m eating chips and salsa.”

“Kelly Clarkson?”

At his question, you got defensive. “She’s a goddess.”

“Kelly Clarkson devotee?”

“I—” you stopped to consider that before tilting your head. “I suppose so. But only because she wouldn’t want to take over the world. She’d tweet something like Everyone come over to drink wine and chat and I’d be there in a heartbeat.”

He grinned and you found yourself wishing this was real. That this really was the morning after your wedding to a handsome man.

But that wasn’t your life.

“Never thought I’d marry a Kelly Clarkson Devotee.”

“Not to, uh, cut this marriage short, but I have to be on a flight tomorrow morning. So we should probably get on with figuring shit out today. Get that annulment if we’re actually married.”

A playful frown toyed with his lips. “You’re divorcing me because I made fun of you for being in the Clarkson Cult?”

“Yes,” you played along. “I’m sorry, Sebastian, but I just can’t stay with someone who doesn’t share my absolute love and adoration of KC. If I’d have known this last night, I would have definitely left you at the altar.”

Briefly, you caught sight of a shy smile before he turned his head away. “So, uh, you mind if I grab a shower?”

“Not at all. I’ll start researching,” you motioned to your laptop that was laying over on the desk.

After he nodded, he started looking around the room. It took you a minute to remember that you were both naked. Though it shocked you that he would be as shy about his nudity as you were, you didn’t point it out. Instead, you pointed to your travel blanket that was draped over a chair within his reach. With a grateful nod, he grabbed it and secured it around his waist as he stood.

As he walked over to the bathroom, you found yourself staring at a wrinkle in the sheets, letting your brain start shutting down just enough to process the whirlwind of the last few minutes.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You glanced up.

“I, uh, I just… Look. With my job I just wanted to ask that you not share anything on, you know... Twitter or anything.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t. No one would believe me even if I did.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “I don’t really know what it’s like to be in the public eye, not like you are, anyway, but I’m sure it’s not all glitz and glam.”

With a nod of thanks, he disappeared into the bathroom.

That brought up a whole new side of worry. If you were married and did need to get the annulment, how would you keep it from getting out? You needed to make sure all of this stayed out of the press. You couldn’t let your reputation tarnish his. Not when you were going to die and leave him to deal with your bullshit.

As soon as the shower started, you darted across the room to quickly pull on some clothes. Once you were no longer naked, you dug out your medication and popped a pill, knowing you’d definitely need it to keep up your strength. Hopefully it would also work some sort of wonder on your hangover headache as well.

Once you swallowed your medicine, you grabbed your laptop, only to have a paper fall to the ground. You bent down to see what it was and stopped cold at the calligraphy written across the top:

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE

PART 2: THE FIRST DATE

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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pixiegrl · 3 years

Note

Also I would really love to read "I won't make it home for Christmas" with Lashton please and thank you, love you 💜

Amanda! Darling Amanda! I originally had another idea and then we were talking about soulmate AUs and this uh. Turned into that. I hope you enjoy it! For the holidays!

on ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205598

I won’t make it home for Christmas. The line has been tattooed onto Luke’s hip since his 13th birthday when he got his soulmark. He’d been giddy when he’d first gotten it, excited to have something so unique as the first thing his soulmate will say to him. The older he’s gotten, though, the less the tattoo has made sense. After all, why would that be the first thing his one true love would say to him? How can you tell someone you won’t spend Christmas with them as the first thing you’re supposed to say?

No matter how much Luke wants to find his soulmate, wants to meet this person, he’s pushed it aside and gotten on with his life. It was Ben who first suggested he become a flight attendant. Luke was antsy to get out of Australia, to get out in the world and explore, and to find the person he’s destined to be with. He jumped at the chance, finishing the university classes he needed to quickly and then immediately applying to the airline. It wasn’t long until he was going through training. It’s where he met Michael; sarcastic, funny, sharp Michael, who’s good at putting on his customer service face for people and making sharp remarks to Luke while they prepare drinks. They make a good team, if only because Luke laughs at Michael’s comments and Michael had talked Luke down from his panic attacks on their first few flights together. Luke would venture to call Michael his best friend, if Michael wouldn’t make fun of him immediately for it.

It’s how they’d met Calum, Michael’s soulmate. He’d been the co-pilot on one of their early flights. Michael had crashed into Calum in the middle of the cockpit, covering him in coffee and uttering Oh fuck don’t get me fired, and Calum had frozen for a moment before bursting into laughter. He peeled back his sleeve to reveal the same sentence on his forearm, saying “This isn’t how I expected to meet; that’s for sure.” Michael then ripped his shirt open in the middle of the cockpit area, showing off the mark on his rib cage with those same words, laughing wildly in the face of Luke and the other flight attendants telling him to put his shirt back on before someone complained to the airline.

Luke likes Michael and Calum, enjoys spending his time with the two of them even though it's frustrating to watch them kiss and stare at each other all starry-eyed, sappy and in love. Luke’s lucky that he doesn’t live with Michael anymore, happy to have some time away from the two.

The other downside of Luke’s soulmark is that he’s heard some variation of it over the years. He’s been a flight attendant for close to four years now, and he’d have trouble counting the amount of times someone has said something in relation to not being home for holidays or Christmas. Luke’s almost desensitized to the words now, unphased by it all. He’s never felt the connection or spark behind it that everyone else claims to feel when they meet their soulmates. So Luke is here, waiting on flight after flight, airport after airport, for his soulmate to appear.

Luke is positively miserable today, though. It’s Christmas Eve and he’s supposed to be getting on a flight from Boston to California and then to Sydney. Supposed to being the key word. He’s currently stuck in the Boston airport, his just one of many delayed flights piling up on the back of a snowstorm rolling in. Luke’s been hiding in the back corner of the airport, texting Michael and Calum, jealous they get the holiday off. They’ve been sending him photos of their Christmas cards, where they’re grinning in matching ugly sweaters and reindeer antlers. It’s cheesy and sappy and Luke has never been so jealous of soulmates before.

Luke’s airplane sends out an announcement that the flight will be delayed until tomorrow morning and advises everyone to find somewhere to spend the night. Luke hears the grumbles of the other passengers, rolling his eyes at how clueless people can be. Did they really think they’d be able to leave tonight, between the other flight delays and the snow? Luke shares a look with one of the other attendants across the way, shaking heads and equal looks of misery at the idea of finding a place to spend the night. Luke’s waiting for the okay from his boss before he tries to find a place to spend the night. Luke is desperate to get out of here, to find some food and to find a hotel room to shower and sleep in.

He’s scrolling through his phone, looking at photos from his family, and debating when he can get up to go find somewhere to spend the night or if any of the other attendants need a roommate when someone collapses into the seat next to him. Luke glances to the side, catching sight of brown curls, nice biceps, and a strong jawline. If Luke wasn’t exhausted and wasn't going to have to fight people to get a room in a hotel on Christmas Eve, he might try to flirt with the guy.

“I won’t make it home for Christmas,” the guy says. Luke hums, half listening.

“The first time in years I’ve had the holiday off and I’m stuck here, in a crowded airport. Not even sure I’ll be able to find a hotel at this point,” the guy says, glancing at Luke while he huffs a bit and rolls his eyes. He’s fiddling with his phone, leg bouncing. Luke hums, glancing down at his own phone, snorting at the picture Michael’s sent of him and Calum in their matching tacky Christmas sweaters, reindeer antlers and all.

“I’m sure there’s a hotel left somewhere; the snow’s only just gotten bad,” Luke says, nonchalantly, defaulting to his generic answer he always gives passengers when they complain to him.

“What did you say?” The guy sounds a little breathless, shocked. Luke sighs, putting on his customer service smile and turning to look at the guy. The smile slips from Luke’s face though when he makes eye contact with him. It feels like he's letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a tightness in his chest relieving itself. The world slides itself into place and Luke gets it. It’s stupid and cliche, but he gets it now. The feeling everyone has described to him over and over again, of coming home, of peace. Luke gets it now, staring at the man next to him.

“Oh,” Luke whispers, taking him in, curled brown hair and bright hazel eyes, a slow smile forming on his face. Luke can’t help a similar smile from forming on his lips, dimples creasing his cheeks.

The guy grins even wider, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up so Luke can see the sentence painted across the back of his forearm, flowing cursive and Luke’s words. Luke reaches out, unable to stop himself, and traces the words, sucking in a breath at the electric feeling that flows through him at the contact with his soulmate.

“Who knew I’d have to go to an airport in Boston to meet my soulmate?” He says, laughing. Luke realizes he has an Aussie accent too, and he laughs breathlessly because really, what are the odds. What are the odds he’d go halfway across the world just to meet his soulmate by accident in a shitty, cold airport, stuck here during the holidays until the snow stops. Although, Luke guesses, fate probably had a hand in this.

“Australia is a large country,” Luke says, pulling his hand back, blushing.

“It seems fate has decided we should meet here instead. Ashton,” He says, holding his hand out. Luke blushes again, shaking Ashton’s hand, finding it incredibly silly to be shaking his soulmate’s hand in an airport waiting area. Ashton snorts, lacing his fingers in Luke’s so they’re holding hands. Luke blushes even harder. He’s usually much smoother than this, he’s being ridiculous.

“Luke. I would show you my tattoo but it’s on my hip,” Luke says, gesturing vaguely in that area. Ashton smiles, tongue poking out a little. Luke’s immediately charmed by him.

“So I can tell what brings you to an airport on December 24th. Uniform stole my one-liner,” Ashton says, gesturing to Luke’s dress pants and shirt, the little name tag pin he’s wearing. Luke blushes.

“You have one liners prepared for picking people up in airports?”

“Always gotta be prepared. Never know where you might be a handsome stranger destined to be your true love.”

Luke rolls his eyes, “Well, what brings you to an airport on Christmas Eve? Since you mentioned wanting to get home.”

“I’m a session musician. We were finishing up recording and I was so sure I would be able to make it back home in time for Christmas. My sister’s gonna kill me.”

“Well, tell her you met your soulmate. She can’t be too mad about that.”

Ashton snorts, rubbing his thumb along the back of Luke’s hand. Luke stares at Ashton’s face, trying to memorize as much of it as he can. He wants to remember every detail to tell his family later, to describe the scene to Michael and Calum, to write into his wedding speech when he tells everyone about this moment.

“I bet you hear people complaining about not being able to make it home all the time. You know, being a flight attendant and all,” Ashton says. Luke smiles.

“Nothing quite as on the nose as you, though. Not from anyone as pretty as you,” Luke says, leaning over to brush a stray curl out of Ashton’s eyes and tuck it behind his ear. Ashton blushes, red dusting his nose and cheeks. It’s charming, Luke decides. Ashton is charming and cute and everything he’s ever wanted in a soulmate.

“Want to go get dinner? See if we can get a hotel room? Maybe between your uniform and my pleading, we can beg for a room somewhere,” Ashton asks.

Luke laughs, standing up and cracking his back, “I think we could manage that. Somewhere has to still be open at 6:00pm on Christmas Eve.”

Ashton grins widely, jumping up and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. Luke smiles, pulling his jacket on and grabbing the handle of his rolling suitcase. Ashton grabs Luke’s hand, lacing their fingers together and grinning widely at Luke when he makes eye contact with him. Luke smiles shyly, cheeks pink, and curls falling in his eyes as he ducks his head.

They venture out into the cold of Boston, grabbing the first bus and taking it into downtown.

“What instrument do you play?” Luke asks, picking at some invisible lint on his pant leg.

“Drums. Sometimes I play guitar or sing, but my main love is drums. Well, my other love I guess,” Ashton says. Luke rolls his eyes, huffing fondly at Ashton. Ashton laughs, head tipped back slightly. Luke is charmed immensely by Ashton already. God, now he gets why Michael and Calum are so unbearable to be around.

“Do you live in Australia?” Ashton asks once his laughter has died down.

“Sort of. When I’m home I stay with my parents since they’re not too far. I officially own a place in LA. It’s my base airport and it’s easier to have a place there during my off times. Do you?”

“Yeah. I bounce between LA and New York most of the time being a musician. Boston was an accident. I was in London for the last month and was grabbing a connecting flight from there back to Australia for the season.”

“Maybe fate did want us to meet.”

“Could have done that without a snowstorm and flight delay.”

“Well, I wouldn't have met you without the delay,” Luke points out. Ashton shrugs. They fall into comfortable conversation, talking about their families, Michael and Calum, Ashton’s friends that he records with, their lives. It’s interesting, meeting someone who’s the other half of your soul. Luke feels like he’s known Ashton for years, comfortable and happy with him, but still like he’s learning Ashton. They haven’t let go of each other’s hands, fingers interlocked and resting in Luke’s lap while they talk, Ashton rubbing his thumb across the back of Luke’s hand.

They get off the bus when they make it to the city. Ashton pauses, taking a deep breath and turning to look at Luke.

“Do you wanna find a hotel and get room service? I doubt anywhere is open now,” Ashton says. Luke figures he’s probably right and nods. Ashton hums, pulling in the direction of where Luke can see a hotel in the distance.

They make it half a block before Ashton freezes, turning to look wide eyed at Luke, “Oh, I just assumed you’d want to share a room together. You don’t have to of course. I completely understand.”

Luke rolls his eyes, “Ashton, you’re my soulmate. Of course I wanna spend the night with you. I like talking to you.”

Ashton deflates, smiling, “Good. I just didn’t want to force you.”

“You’re not forcing me, silly. I’m happy to be with you,” Luke says. Ashton smiles, tugging Luke in, pressing a kiss to his lips. Luke startles before relaxing slightly, easing into the kiss and tilting his head slightly, letting Ashton pull him close, gripping his hips, brushing his thumb over where Luke knows his soulmark sits, curved letters and all.

“Since I’m already delayed for the holidays, maybe I can delay myself in LA. Since we’re going the same way,” Ashton whispers onto Luke’s lips when he pulls back. Luke grins.

“Are you asking to move in with me on the first date Ashton? How very forward of you.”

“Well, we’re meant for each other. Might as well skip a couple steps if it gets us there faster.”

Luke laughs, snorting slightly and burying his face into Ashton’s neck, “How about we settle on dinner and a hot shower first? See where it takes us.”

Ashton hums, “Only if I can see your soulmark.”

“Well, obviously. Only fair if you get to see mine since you showed me yours.”

“I look forward to it,” Ashton says, grinning, as he presses another kiss to Luke’s lips, taking a step back and pulling them both in the direction of the hotel. Maybe delayed flights on Christmas aren’t so bad. Not if they can lead Luke to his soulmate.

#5 seconds of summer #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #my writing #its a soulmate au and stuck in the airport #for my love amanda

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im-a-lonelyheart · 4 years

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Fitzsimmons Family Headcanons in case canon fails me

And before they destroy them. Buckle up.

(I wrote this in less than an hour and english is not my first language, sooo sorry for any mistakes)

Edit: I re-posted it because it wasn’t showing up in the tags. sorry.

Enjoy! (Gift credit: X)

They finally decide to retire to their cottage.

Daisy and May lived with them for a while but at different times. Daisy around the time their first kid was born and May when the youngest was a kid already.

May and Daisy totally live together in the USA.

Fitzsimmons started a biomedical company, they make prostetics and medical supplies. They fund small researchers and become relatively known in the medical field (under aliases of course). They run their company from their home as much as they can.

Deke got bored of his company, so he eventually fused it with FS’s, he has enough money to travel around the world and be whatever he wants. Once was a TV chef, and he got bored and became a travel blogger, then launched a clothing line so it goes…

Tried to convince the team to turn their story into a broadway musical. They all said no. He brings it up everytime they are all together (you never know)

Fitzsimmons have three kids, they were all planned ;) of course

Daisy teases Fitz about how the three of them look like Jemma. “You are adopted”. the son is the only one who kinda looks like him. Fitz doesn’ t mind.

After the kids go their own ways they leave together again.

Have their own quinjet in case of emergencies, they say. Let’s be honest after years of flying with SHIELD, commercial flights lost their charm.

Look retired Fitzsimmons would be that kind of couple who travels the world together (properly this time), they say the quinjet is to visit their friends and Family around the world but would randomly send pictures of them in front of a famous landmark.

Mackenzie Skye Fitzsimmons (Daisy calls her Kye) (Born around 2021) (Quarantine baby) or (Timetravel baby)

They never asked Deke about their daughter’s name in the original timeline, but once they told him, judging by his reaction they knew it was this. (but in the lighthouse timeline her nickname was Kenzie)

Fitz was really adamant on this name, Jemma thought it was cute and a great way to honor their best friends, but years later he told the kid:

“you were named after two of the bravest persons I’ve ever met”.

Jemma just stared into the space as it dawned on her that her husband was really an idiot.

He winked at her and she forgave him. Eventually.

When she was a toddler Fitzsimmons moved back to the city and left their cottage, they wanted their daughter to have the best education and also didn’t want to wake her up early because the closest school was still an hour away.

Around that time Daisy found Bobbi, they met up, and Bobbi introduced her to her baby son Owen.

“oh my god. I need to call Fitzsimmons”

“what”

“shhhh. wait, it’s connecting... Hey guys! Look who is here! Bobbi and her baby Owen Shaw”

Fitz spits his tea all over his phone. Bobbi doesn’t know what’s going on, and they eventually explain it to her, well, after Daisy stops laughing and Fitz stops coughing.

Bobbi and Hunter had changed names and moved to England. After learning that Fitzsimmons live nearby, they make plans to see each other as much as they can. Look this is my headcanon AU so Fitzsimmons offer them positions in their company, Bobbi in the lab and Hunter in a made up security position that doesn’t fit his nametag.

Some weekends Fitz and Hunter take the babies to the park together, while Jemma and Bobbi work or hang out together. One day kye and Owen were playing and Owen proudly declared he was going to be an astronaut. Fitz was like “you and your son are the bane of my existence”.

The kids become best friends. Duh

BUT this is Bobbi and Hunter we are talking about, they’re nomads so they eventually move out around Europe and America, when the kid started high school they agreed to stay in one place.

Anyways,

Amazing kid, took a while for her parents to figure out the whole parenting thing but she was so great, as long as things went her way.

Fitz can’t say no to her. A dog? We’ll manage. Ice cream for breakfast? c’mon you know how convincing she can be.

She is a really calm kid, well behaved. Responsible older sister, mom friend, but messy af. “look mom, I have a system and I know where everything is”.

Nicest kid you’ll ever meet, but if you mess with her siblings be careful, you never know if you will find trash in your backpack.

She is an MD. Eventually, her parents moved back to the countryside but she stayed in the city with her sister to finish her education.

Makes friends everywhere she goes.

She and Owen started dating in their teens but were on and off several times, they even briefly dated other people because one of them would get scared of things becoming too serious (even more when they learned that Uncle Deke was genetically their son).

In their late twenties they decided to get married as a compromise to stay together and work things out, after all, some things are inevitable.

They had two kids: Daniel Shaw (Deke, but They wanted him to be his own person so they changed the name), Gabrielle Shaw (Born as Oliver Shaw)

Owen worked for a while for SWORD. Eventually decide to move to Germany to work as researchers.

Margaret Abigail Fitzsimmons (Maggie) (Born 2025)

The odd one. Grew up to be a successful artist. Really independent as a child, could play hours by herself or caually chill around her parents or her brother’s crib.

Despite being the only one in her family who isn’t into science, she loves doing experiments all the time, in the name of aesthetic. One time turned the dog blue. There’s a fire extinguisher in the living room just because of her. Banned from her parents’ lab “Pretty colors can go boom”. Aparently.

After being constantly told she is diferent from the rest of her family, she feels happy when someone tells her she looks like her mom. She scoffs but she doesn’t really mind.

Acts though but is a softie, vegan, activist, animal lover. Loves to tease everyone, prankster, makes fun of her mom but it’s the first person she thinks of when something troubles her. Late night calls are not unheard of.

Can’t commit to a single hobby. Photography, cooking, volunteer work... name something, and she has probably already tried it.

Really close to Deke, sometimes travels with him. They are kindred spirits. Feel like only them understand the need to explore and try new things.

She grew up to resent shield. Look she loves what her parents and their friends did, but hates how it affected them. Forgive and forget? in this economy??

Lives in Paris by herself but somehow always manages to get everyone to come to her art exhibits. You won’t be able to stop her once she sets her mind to something. Stubborn as her dad.

Doesn’t want kids, maybe one day if she feels ready she will adopt but she is happy as an aunt.

Matthew Phillip Fitzsimmons (Matthew) (Born 2030)

Ray of sunshine, Momma’s boy. He loves it when his parents take him to their lab. Ever since he could walk he is always following his sisters around, if they are up to something he is the first one to know. They love to tease him, but he has enough blackmail material to get them to shut up. He would never use it tho.

Computer genius. He has his own video game company. Launched his first video game at 16. Fitz is mildly offended he sees the Framework code as “old stuff”.

He is a sweetheart, adores his parents and calls them every single day. He met his wife in college and has been happy ever since. It was fast and passionate, they got married within a year and a few years later they had a baby.

Truly an example of living fast.

Melissa Fitzsimmons (his daughter) a sweetheart, may is her godmother. (The babies’ baby’s baby, i cry). The cousins are thick as thieves.

May loves the kid, “age is making you softer”, Daisy tells her and laughs, May’s glare while holding a baby is too much for her.

Emma Johnson (born 2029) (the honorary fourth kid)

Daisy’s daughter. Jemma cried when she told her the baby’s name. She wanted May and Jemma in the delivering room with her.

I can see Daisy being a badass single mother but I also see her finding love, I haven’t made up my mind but I think she will be loved either way.

Only child, so loves to hang out with the FS kids.

She and Matthew are best friends since they were little, even having video calls when they couldn’t see each other in person.

Fitz and Daisy had a bet on whether they would get together, but it was called off when it became apparent Emma wasn’t interested in men altogether. She was the first woman in his wedding.

The “Quake” legacy was too much for her so she decided to focus in something different. Currently works as an architect and on her spare time works as a freelance illustrator.

All I can imagine is a scene where the are all together in a field (probably the same one where they buried Coulson and Loop!Fitz) May, Fitzsimmons and Daisy. They try to meet up there at least once a year to chat and reminisce about old times, sometimes with Deke, Mack and Elena (and their twin boys) or just them.

Their kids are playing while their parents watch, but May’s watching them, with their backs to her they almost look like the kids she met in the bus all those years ago. Coulson would’ve been so proud, this is the future we were fighting for all along, she thinks.

“You did good”.

Daisy turns around with a soft smile on her face and says “yes, we did.”

The end

#Fitzsimmons #fstag #fsfic #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#Jemma simmons #Leo fitz #Daisy Johnson #Melinda May #SHIELD headcanons #I have hope that i will like their ending #this is how i see them right now #I will probably adapt them to fit whatever happens in the finale

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dexfsoul · 4 years

Text

Tongue Tied {Johnjaeyong} Pt. 2

Pairing: Johnny x Taeyong x Jaehyun

Summery: Jaehyun's finally decided to confess. Johnny and Taeyong have as well.

Word Count: 3k

Part 1

Taeyong was way too hyper to have just gotten off a thirteen hour flight. Jaehyun was doing his best to keep the boy entertained by listening to his mindless chattering, adding his input every now and then. Johnny had passed out in the backseat soon after climbing in the car, his light snoring being heard behind Taeyong's enthusiastic voice.

"And I met this friend of Johnny's, Noah," Taeyong rambled, studying for Jaehyun's reaction. "He has two girlfriends and the girls are dating each other as well. I've heard of relationships like that before, but I've never seen them, it's interesting. What do you think?"

If Johnny were awake he would've slapped Taeyong across the head for his lack of subtlety.

"I don't know," Jaehyun shrugged, trying to keep his composure, "If it makes them happy then who cares really?"

Jaehyun wanted to slam his head against the steering wheel. Why'd Taeyong have to bring that subject up the day Jaehyun was planning to confess.

"Well yeah, but I was more so asking how you personally feel about it. Would you be in a relationship like that?"

Jaehyun gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, "W-What?"

"Tae," Johnny suddenly hissed from the backseat, "Can you quiet down? And stop questioning Jaehyun, he's trying to focus on the road."

Taeyong caught the warning, but he was never one to listen to others.

"What are you? His mom?" He scoffed.

Johnny rolled his eyes, "I just don't think now's the right time."

"I'm his friend too, you know. I can talk to him without you policing me."

"I'm not trying to police you," Johnny softened his voice upon seeing Taeyong's pout.

"Sure seems like you are."

Jaehyun wishes he could say he wasn't used to this, but sadly this isn't the first time the couple had a quarrel with him being the subject.

"Tae," Jaehyun cut off the banter before it got heated. "We're here, order your food."

Thankfully Taeyong was a lot calmer after his stomach was filled. The rest of the ride was relatively peaceful, Johnny and Taeyong had kept their bickering to a minimum, and Jaehyun was more than relieved when the two older boys fell fast asleep.

The clock read 12 A.M. when Jaehyun finally pulled into Johnny and Taeyong’s driveway. Taeyong’s food cravings had made them a little later than they were supposed to be, throwing Jaehyun’s plan completely off track. What was he thinking? They were probably exhausted and didn’t have the time nor energy for Jaehyun’s pathetic confession. He would tell them tomorrow, or maybe the day after that, or the day after that, or maybe just not at all, that would be cool, right?

“Jae?”

Jaehyun jumped in surprise, being too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the other two boys moving around.

“You okay? You seemed a little out of it there,” Johnny reached forward from the back seat and caressed Jaehyun’s hair in a soft way that made Jaehyun completely melt.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired,” Jaehyun excused, not exactly lying.

“Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Taeyong offered, smiling mischievously at Johnny who smiled back at his boyfriend’s quick thinking.

“Sure, if you’re really okay with that,” Jaehyun answered nervously, his eyes shooting between the couple.

“Of course we are, let’s go straight in. We can grab our stuff in the morning.”

Jaehyun allowed himself to be led in by Johnny, feeling too nervous to move on his own. This was his chance, he could stay the night, confess in the morning, and if things went badly, take his leave.

Johnny smiled upon seeing Jaehyun’s far off gaze, thinking it was tiredness. This side of Jaehyun was one of his favourites. Usually Jaehyun was calm and mature, he liked taking care of others, and would go out of his way to do that. Some times, however, when Jaehyun felt tired, anxious, or sad, he would become very baby-like and helpless. Johnny also knew, from the few times he had taken care of him when sick, that Jaehyun craved affection when he wasn’t feeling his best.

Johnny ushered Jaehyun into the elevator, Taeyong following behind. Taeyong was rocking back and forth on the heels on his feet in excitement, from both being home again, and their upcoming confession to Jaehyun. How he managed to constantly have that much energy, Johnny would never understand.

Jaehyun felt as if his insides were crawling around. Despite Johnny being one of the reasons for his nervousness, he was also Jaehyun’s best friend, so naturally, Jaehyun leaned against him for comfort. Much like Jaehyun naturally leaned into him, Johnny naturally adjusted so that Jaehyun would be more comfortable.

Taeyong smiled at the sight, he both envied and loved the natural flow between the two friends. Everything went so smoothly between them, Taeyong could only wish for a connection like that. He just didn’t notice the way that Jaehyun’s pinky hooked perfectly around his upon seeing the pout on the older’s face.

They definitely looked crazy to the couple standing in front of the elevator when it opened, all three of them practically cuddled up, but they didn’t care. Nodding to his neighbors, Johnny led both the boys to their apartment. They could all feel the tension once the door had been shut. Taeyong had snuck his hand into Jaehyun’s at some point, and upon looking down, Jaehyun gained a weird sense of confidence.

“I know it’s late,” Jaehyun started, his brain not even processing his words before he said them. “but I want-no, need to talk to you guys about something.”

Johnny and Taeyong looked at each other with shocked expressions.

“We actually had something we wanted to talk to you about as well,” Johnny responded, “but it might take awhile, and it’s already late, so we should get changed into something more comfortable first.”

The two younger boys agreed, following Johnny into his and Taeyong’s bedroom. Johnny picked out some clothes that would fit Jaehyun, the younger disappearing into the bathroom despite having changed in front of both the other boys before.

“What do you think he wants to tell us?” Taeyong whispered.

“No idea,” Johnny shrugged, pulling a large T-shirt over his head.

“You don’t think-” Taeyong paused, pulling on one of Johnny’s shirts as well.

Johnny smiled upon seeing his boyfriend drowning in his shirt and motioned for him to continue.

“Well, what if he’s dating someone, and he wants to introduce us?”

Johnny hadn’t thought of that. Honestly, Jaehyun hadn’t dated anyone since they’ve known each other, not that he knows of at least. Johnny recalled, with blushing cheeks, that he had been Jaehyun’s first kiss. Running a finger over his bottom lip, he wondered whether he had been Jaehyun’s only kiss. Selfishly, he hoped so.

“I really, really hope that’s not the case,” Johnny sighed, hopelessly.

Jaehyun stood in front of the bathroom mirror blushing deeply, obsessed with Johnny’s smell surrounding him and the way his shirt was a little too big on him. Jaehyun was tall, standing at 180cm, but he loved feeling small and Johnny made him feel just that. Even though Taeyong was shorter, he somehow made Jaehyun feel tiny as well, with his constant babying of the younger.

When Johnny said that him and Taeyong had something to tell him his first thought was that they were getting married. Strangely, he was at peace with this. He’ll confess, they’ll say that they love each other and they’re getting married, and Jaehyun will be the best man at their wedding. A little dramatic, but whatever, the tiredness had finally caught up to him.

He strutted out of the bathroom with false confidence. Taeyong and Johnny were already in the living room, speaking in hushed tones. They went quiet once they noticed him walk in. Jaehyun cocked his head, but ignored their strange behavior. He walked in front of them and took a seat on the floor in front of their coffee table. Crossing his legs under him, he laid his arms on the table and rested his chin on the backs on his hands, looking up the older boys with expecting eyes.

They melted at the sight. Johnny had the urge to reach out and pet his hair, but refrained when thinking of the possibility of Jaehyun being in a relationship. He realized, quite harshly, that their affections might have to stop if Jaehyun has a boyfriend or girlfriend. Johnny’s boyfriend didn’t mind them being affectionate, but well, now he fully knows why.

Taeyong also had the same urge, he however, didn’t consider Jaehyun’s fictional relationship, and outwardly cooed while running his fingers through the boy’s soft locks. Jaehyun hummed, nuzzling into Taeyong’s hand. Johnny pinched Taeyong’s thigh to get him to focus. The pink-haired giggled lightly before pulling away from a hazy Jaehyun.

“Do you guys wanna go first?” Jaehyun asked.

“No, you go,” Taeyong answered quickly, covering it up with, “It sounded important.”

If Jaehyun was in a relationship they wanted to know before stupidly asking him to be in a relationship with them.

“Ah okay,” Jaehyun chuckled nervously, leaning back to the palms of his hands. “Where do I even start?”

He pondered for a second. If he was gonna confess he might as well tell the whole story, he could blame it on the exhaustion in the morning.

“Do you remember the day we met?” Johnny nodded, of course he did. “I do. I could never forget it, because I swear that’s the day I fell in love with you.”

His bluntness left Johnny breathless, he stayed silent, wanting to hear every word that Jaehyun said.

“I was head over heels from day one, but I never said anything cause I didn’t feel like I stood a chance. Well, except for that time you took my first kiss, that was cruel of you Johnny Seo,” Jaehyun sneered, but Johnny knew him well enough by now to know that no cruel intentions stood behind it.

Johnny unintentionally let his fingers ghost over his lips. It had been years, but his lips had never lost the feeling of Jaehyun’s. Taeyong’s eyebrows rose at Jaehyun’s words, that was new information to him.

“We never mentioned it again, but I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try. And then we met you,” Jaehyun’s eyes wandered over to Taeyong, the older shrinking under his gaze. “You and Johnny started dating, and I wanted to hate you. I wanted to so bad.”

Taeyong wanted to apologize. To apologize to both of them. His insecurities were correct, they loved each other and Taeyong had gotten between them.

“But I could never hate you, because the more I got to know you the harder I fell. It’s bad enough to be in love with your best friend, but your best friend and his boyfriend? That’s a whole different level, but that’s the truth. It’s crazy, but I’m in love, with both of you.”

Johnny was absolutely speechless. Taeyong had the opposite, and possibly worst, reaction. His hands shot to his mouth in shock, and after hearing Jaehyun’s final sentence he broke into a grin, small giggles following soon after, then full out laughter. He laughed in happiness, at the craziness of it all. Needless to say, he wasn’t good in these situations, but in his defense, he had never been confessed to like this before. He fell against Johnny, shaking his shoulder in excitement. The older snapped out of his shock and smiled as well, trying to cover it with his hand.

“He’s in love with us,” Taeyong grinned, Johnny’s own grin growing more at the reminder.

Their moment was cut short by a hurt voice ringing out.

“Are-are you laughing at me?” Jaehyun’s hurt expression sent glass shooting into the hearts of the older couple who scrambled over to him in a panic.

Johnny got to him first, letting out a pained hiss as he hit his knee on the corner of the table. He quickly pulled Jaehyun into his side to reassure him. Taeyong literally clambered over the table and plopped down on Jaehyun’s other side with a painful thud. He threw his legs over the younger’s and scooted closer to the two.

“We weren’t laughing, it’s just-” Taeyong broke out into another grin, slapping a hand over his mouth, he flopped onto his back, nudging Johnny with his foot so that the older would continue for him.

Johnny instead grabbed onto his ankle and yanked on it, “I think it’s time we told him what we wanted to talk to him about.”

Jaehyun was utterly confused and slightly hurt. The laughing stung a little, but he guessed it could’ve been worse.

Taeyong finally composed himself and sat back up, motioning for Johnny to continue.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Jaehyun almost fainted.

“I- fuck, I never thought I had a chance either. That night I kissed you, it was purely on impulse, but I never regretted it. Okay, I did feel extremely guilty about taking your first kiss without your permission, which is why I never brought it back up again,” Johnny smiled shyly, “I liked Taeyong when I first met him, and I thought after some time I would stop loving you, but it never happened. Instead I fell in love with both of you.”

Jaehyun didn’t have time to fully process Johnny’s side of the story before Taeyong started telling his.

“I was head over heels the moment I met both of you. I was in paradise those first few months,” Taeyong sighed, back to dramatics, and sprawled out on his back. “Flirting and crushing on the two hot best friends. When Johnny asked me out, I was over the moon, but also upset cause no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t lose feelings for the cute roommate I had. Soon I started to notice the weird tension between you two and it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Strangely, I found out that I really didn’t mind my boyfriend having feelings for another boy, as long as that boy was none other than Jung Jaehyun. I kept quiet about mine and Johnny’s feelings for you because it was just easier that way honestly. We could be in a relationship and still show as much affection for you as we wanted. I guess I didn’t really consider how you may have felt,” Taeyong mumbles guiltily, “but I didn’t know how else it could’ve worked. Until I saw a poly couple while on YouTube. Even then I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Luckily Johnny’s friend was a great way to ease into it.”

After Taeyong finished, all Jaehyun could do was flit his eyes between the two dumbly.

“You two aren’t joking, right?”

Johnny rolled his eyes at the younger and pulled him forward by his nape, their lips colliding. They had both been waiting so long for this, and now that it was happening it left them both wondering what they had been waiting for, as it was just that easy. Taeyong squealed as the two kissed, having a short fanboy moment.

After pulling apart, Jaehyun barely had time to catch his breath before Taeyong pulled him into a kiss. Johnny’s heart swelled as he watched the boys- his boys, giggle into each other’s mouths. Jaehyun’s dimples were prominent and Taeyong’s soft pink hair fell across his forehead, they looked so soft, so happy. Johnny was happy, suffocating in it as he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Something inside of him had been filled as soon as Jaehyun had said he loved them, and it’s about to make him burst.

Jaehyun and Taeyong’s make-out session was interrupted by Jaehyun yawning cutely.

“Tired?” Johnny questioned, smiling at the way Taeyong and Jaehyun nodded simultaneously.

“Let’s get to sleep.”

The three stood, wincing at the soreness in their legs from sitting for so long. Johnny once again led the way, stopping once he noticed that there was only one person following him. He turned and saw Jaehyun standing in front of the long couch, rubbing his eyes. They always kept a blanket and pillow on the couch for when Jaehyun stayed over, but now Johnny figured they should move the pillow to their bed.

“Whatcha doing?” Johnny questioned, loving the way colour flushed to Jaehyun’s cheeks.

“Going to the couch,” Jaehyun stuttered, “That’s where I’m sleeping tonight, isn’t it?”

“As if,” Taeyong scoffed, stomped back over to him, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him back to where Johnny stood waiting.

Jaehyun stood at the bottom of bed, not exactly sure what to do. Plus something was still on his mind, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without it being answered. Taeyong and Johnny climbed into bed, leaving space between them for their third to climb in. Glancing up, Taeyong noticed Jaehyun playing with his fingers at the end of their bed.

Worried that they were making him uncomfortable, he spoke up, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Hearing Taeyong’s question, Johnny shot his attention to the youngest.

“I’m sorry, but I just- does this mean we’re like?” Jaehyun didn’t finish the question, too scared to bring up the word dating or boyfriends.

Luckily Johnny caught on, pulling him onto the bed with them, “Yes, I’ve waited long enough to call you mine, I’m not waiting any longer.”

Now having his question answered, and being more than satisfied with the answer, Jaehyun climbed between the boys, facing Taeyong and having Johnny instantly wrap his arms around him. Taeyong snuggled up to him as well, bumping their noses together.

After a moment of peaceful silence, Taeyong pouted, “He is coming with us on the next vacation, right?”

The other two couldn’t help but to laugh at the pink-haired’s question.

“Of course he is,” Johnny answered, “We might die without our boy there.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #lee taeyong #jung jaehyun #seo johnny #johnny seo #jaeyong #johnjae #johntae #nct ships #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct drabble

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petals42 · 5 years

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Coach - Part V

Hello all. I know in my major fics I’ve made Coach and Suzanne not very nice people, but after the latest updates I figured I’d try my hand at writing canon-compliant Coach. This is in his POV so obviously Coach-centric and he is not magically a perfect ally. He’s trying though.

3.6k; canon-compliant; content warning: homophobia; post- Coach IV

It’s Sunday. Which means Church for Suzanne always and Church for Richard when he has the time. Or about every three weeks when Suzanne starts asking him on Thursday whether he is going to make it this week instead of waiting til the morning-of. It’s his signal to go with her so she can show him off or introduce him to new folks or just re-establish that they are together and happy and she can still make him go to Church whenever she wants.

Either way, it’s not bad. He doesn’t mind listening to the sermons, even if he’s not quite sure how much stock he puts in all of this, and the music is good enough, even if he’s not one for singing himself.

He doesn’t even mind the post-Church chitchat. In the fall and winter, the traditional spread of baked goods made by the women of the Church is usually served in the small auditorium. It’s cold when you first walk in and then all the bodies heat it up so that by the end Suzanne will be complaining that if they don’t want to put the AC on, they could just open a window or something.

Richard knows his role in this too. He stands off to the side with his plateful of baked goods, making sure to take the ones baked by Suzanne’s friends and avoid the ones made by anyone his wife is currently feuding with. He chats with some folk who wander over, always polite, but mostly people know him well enough to let him be and wait for Suzanne to finish talking with everyone.

They have a good system. They walk through the line of food together which is when he puts on his best smile. Then he goes to a corner, she claims she has to use the restroom but takes her plate with her and stops to mill and chat with everyone on the way to the bathroom. She’ll finish her plate before she gets to the bathroom, throw it away, and then talk to many of the same people on her way back. He’ll wait and watch and when she starts looking a little tight around the eyes or flexes her left hand in that certain way, that’s when he’ll walk up and ask if she minds leaving. She’ll say of course, they will make their goodbyes, and that’s that.

Sunday morning.

Usually his time in the corner is almost meditative. He lets his eyes unfocus and eats just steadily enough that people can see he is eating and lets his mind drift. It may be a weird place to meditate, in a room filled with other adults, but it works for him. Coaching is a loud job, filled with the noise of teenagers and yelling and grunts and sounds just of working in a high school, really. And then Suzanne is not loud in the same way and he loves listening to her (for as little as he inputs, really he does), but she’s not a still person. She’s light and movement and laughter and she fills up a room enough that usually he is content to just bask in her presence. It’s more joyful than meditative.

This, though. This is just right. His brain is already a little fuzzy from spacing out during the sermon and he’s bored enough that usually he would pull out his phone, but standing and relaxing in a corner is fine. Playing on your phone in a corner is rude. According to Suzanne. And he doesn’t disagree. So he’s a little bored, unable to do anything to fix that boredom, happy to turn the chitchat around him into a sort of gray static he doesn’t have to pay attention to and just… relax.

Of course, this week relaxing is a bit difficult.

He’d been busy in the week he’d gotten back from Samwell. He had booked that flight a bit last minute so it was fly out late, late on Tuesday and then leave Thursday midday to try to make it back for Thursday’s practice because he was the head coach of a football team and, goodness Junior better make it late in the playoffs when there is plenty of time for him to actually go up and see more of the games.

So it was practice and then cram all the strategy and tape he was supposed to do Tuesday and Wednesday into Friday and game Saturday (a win, but a sloppy one if he is being honest) and it is now, Sunday, as he stands and watches people try to eat while holding a small paper plate filled with too much food, that he is finally able to think about it all.

About the car ride and Junior telling him that he wasn’t acknowledging his relationship and getting upset and telling him that he needed to know he wasn’t messed up, like Richard would ever think he was messed up but the fact that Junior had to even ask was--

He blows out a breath. Not angry just… annoyed. At himself. And maybe a little but at Junior even though he shouldn’t be and he isn’t, he just--

Sometimes he feels he never got credit for the things he did do. He paid for all those ice dancing lessons even though he didn’t understood a bit of it. And then when it became obvious Junior was good, he paid for that private coach and went online to learn at least some of the terms even though he was never going to be able to give Junior any actual advice on anything. Which had… well, he could at least admit that that had been a bit of a disappointment. He loved teaching and coaching and yes, see, don’t rely on your elbow so much. Power’s in your shoulder-- there you go, feel the difference? He loved being a coach. But with Junior and ice skating… he looked up enough to sometimes manage a weak Remember to pull your arms tight and Junior would look up at him and smile and nod when he was little but he got older and better and eventually he had to stop trying. Because Junior was more advanced than any of the little tips he could find and he had that private coach to tell him what he was actually doing wrong and he didn’t want to look like a fool and certainly didn’t want Junior to get annoyed with him so…

He’d moved too. He and Suzanne. Packed up their house and he’d gotten a new job away from the kids he’d been coaching for years and they never talked about it with Junior, never wanted him to feel like it was his fault but his son wasn’t stupid. He would’ve thought that he made the connection between the bullying and the change of scenery, as it were.

And then there was hockey, another sport for him to learn enough so he could at least understand what was going on and offer tentative tips, and Samwell and taking out a loan to cover what Junior’s scholarship didn’t and flying up to see at least some of the games and he’s tried to keep things as normal as possible after Jack. Tried to make it obvious that nothing had changed. That he viewed his son exactly the same. But even that hadn’t been enough.

He looks down where he’s holding his paper plate filled with post-Church snacks and realizes he’s crumpling it. But he can’t quite get his hand to loosen. Kids these days. And even thinking that made him feel old but it was true. Kids these days want everything spoken aloud, everything talked about, all mushy, like actions don’t count for anything anymore. It just-- he could count on one hand the number of times his daddy had ever said anything like “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” but he still knew it was true. Of course he knew. His father attended as many of his football games as he could and shook his hand on his wedding day, offered him a cigar when Eric was born...

And, really, he thought he had been being pretty obvious. Right after the Cup, he had started talking about Jack’s goal and his great game and congratulating him and he thought that was clear enough. That if Jack was important to Junior, than he would care about Jack’s sport as much as he could. And then he flew up to see Junior on a week where he could see Junior’s game and they could watch Jack’s game together too. Sure, he referred to Jack as Junior’s friend, but he… he didn’t know if boyfriend was the right word or if they were using partner and, okay, okay maybe it was easier to say “friend”, at least at first. Which, okay, was wrong. But also Junior didn’t even seem to hear the rest of what he was saying. He had gone up there and complimented Jack and Jack’s team and how Jack and Junior worked together and had thought he was being obvious about starting to invite Jack over for Christmas and somehow Junior still ended up yelling at him in the car.

His mouth twists at that. That had been… not good. Not only because Junior had been hurt and crying, but because he’d been angry and yelled and he was pretty sure he mentioned that he had had to find out through the TV, like some stranger and he…

You weren’t supposed to tell your kids when they hurt your feelings. He knows that. He’s… he’s not allowed to get his feelings hurt, anyway, from the sounds of it. From the reading he’s done in the days he’s been back. The internet says that coming out is a personal thing and everyone makes their own decision and, according to most websites, it’s probably his fault. His and Suzanne’s for not being more openly supportive of people when Junior was growing up. For making him feel like he couldn’t tell them. And he doesn’t-- well, he doesn’t remember ever saying anything blatantly rude like that, he figures he’s usually a live and let live type, but apparently all those little things-- microaggressions, the internet calls ‘em-- apparently those add up.

So, again, his fault.

He shifts and swings his head to find Suzanne. It only takes him a moment; his eyes are long used to flicked through a crowd to find someone just her size with that specific hair color. She’s laughing, chatting with Ruby, and from the looks of it, he’s still got a while. Which is fine. He could go find one of the guys to chat with and, as the local football coach, there’s plenty of chatting he could do but he--

He looks as Suzanne and wonders instead. If her feelings are still a little hurt by Junior’s way of telling them. If she feels old and forgotten and replaced by all those friends he’s got up at college. The ones who knew first.

He pops a cookie in his mouth. Feels his stomach twist up as his mind flashes once again to that dumb car ride. And really, how was he supposed to know Junior even cared about his opinion anymore? He had all those friends and Jack and all the Falconers who all spoke out about it afterwards and there had been pictures with Jack’s parents who were there and clearly knew and Eric hadn’t even called them after. Not for hours and hours.

He can’t help but think it wasn’t right. Suzanne had been beside herself with worry and called him over and over and Richard thought he was pretty okay, but he didn’t like when someone hurt Suzanne. Especially not Junior. Those two talked nearly every day, it seemed to him, and it was a hell of a time for his son to suddenly be so irresponsible with his mama’s feelings.

He takes a breath. Lets it go. Those two have clearly made up and there’s no point in fighting someone else’s battle especially if they didn’t seem too torn up about it anymore.

He wishes he had remembered that during the car ride. That he was better at not reacting with anger sometimes. At not getting all defensive. Then maybe the car ride would’ve gone smoother. Maybe that whole mess could have been avoided. And he wouldn’t still feel so embarrassed and guilty about it even though he thinks that maybe he’d finally gotten the message through on his way to the airport.

Yes, thank God, at least that went well. He’s pretty sure. So Junior’s good with Suanne and good with him and Jack is coming down for Christmas so that’s that.

To be honest, he isn’t quite sure what to do next. Junior seems to watch him to talk and ask about Jack, but the internet said to treat the relationship just like any other and he isn’t sure he had been planning on talking to Junior much about girls except for maybe a quick check that they were being safe and he was being honorable and perhaps a “Is she expecting a ring?” or “Seems about time you went out and got one” talk. That’s about all he and his daddy had done.

Other things he’s doing now-- reading up about things on the internet and planning to maybe pop over to the GSA at the high school when he thinks the other coaches can run the beginning of practice without him -- those things don’t come up in conversation much. At least not naturally. So there is no way to tell Junior. Not that he wants to. Would sound too much like bragging or trying to get points for doing the basics. Which, again, the internet tells him is bad.

Watch gay movies (queer cinema, he says in his head, trying it out from what he’d read) is next. He has to make sure he looked completely comfortable with Junior and Jack kissing and the like when they came for Christmas. Luckily, the internet has a list of ones available on Netflix. Though, he’s not sure he’s supposed to talk to Junior about those either. He found one tweet or something in his search that seemed to imply that parents telling or asking their gay children about gay movies is awkward. Like assuming they all know each other.

There seems to be a mighty fine line between not acknowledging that your kid is gay enough and talking about it too much and making them feel all different. It’s a shame he can’t ask Junior for some advice. But he’s already done enough damage. He’ll have to figure this out on his own. He had spoken disparagingly of parades and rainbows in the car because, sonuvabitch, that seems like a hellish way to spend a Saturday, what with the noise and the heat and people all crammed into a small area like that, but if… well if it would help Junior feel better, he could probably do it. For a couple hours. Maybe.

He’ll have to talk to Junior directly more, he decides. Not just wait for major updates to come through Suzanne. He’ll have to--

“Hey, hon,” Suzanne says, stepping in front of him. He blinks and refocuses his eyes and wonders what brought her over. He doesn’t think it’s been as long as she usually stays. “You okay?”

“Wha- yeah,” he says. “Why?”

“Just checking,” she says. “You were just looking pretty intense, that’s all.”

“Just thinking about plans and stuff,” he replies. Not a lie.

“Plans?”

“Football stuff,” now he’s lying. “Game was sloppy yesterday. Gotta tighten up.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she says, patting his arm. She knows more about football than people assume and she can talk strategy with him when he needs to, but she’s not about to do it in Church. Sometimes she gets enough gossip here to last her the week.

“You ready to go?” she asks.

“If you want,” he replies. “I can stay longer if you want to talk to--”

“No, no,” she says. “You were up at Samwell this week. Let’s head back.”

He nods and accepts it when her path to the exit leads them through the center of the room rather than around the outskirts. There are hugs and kisses on the cheek and he nods and says goodbye when prompted and they are just about out when--

“Oh, the Bittles!” It’s Martha. Her last name escapes him at the moment but it’s not a big deal. He waits for Suzanne to finish her hug and then he leans down and gives her a polite hug as well. “How are you two holding up?”

“Just fine,” Suzanne says. Richard bobs his head up and down in agreement. “Did Todd make it today?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s got that new job so he’s just been busy, busy, busy!”

“Oh well, send him our love,” Suzanne says effortlessly. “And we certainly know what it means to be a bit busy. Especially this time of year!.”

“Oh yes,” Martha says. “It’s always like school starts up again and then suddenly it’s Christmas!”

“With somehow a thousand stressful football games in the middle.”

“Seems the weeks get shorter every year,” Richard adds which is what he always adds during this conversation.

“And the football games get longer,” Suzanne stage-whispers to Martha where it gets its usual short laugh and Richard shrugs to say ‘What can you do?’ and he’s pretty sure they have a clear shot to the door once they finish this one.

“Speaking of,” Suzanne continues and here it is, her exit strategy. “This one’s got to get home to plan for next Saturday so…”

“Of course, of course,” Martha says, waving them on. “Good luck!” and that should be the end of it, except Martha leans in one last time to Suzanne, speaks softly enough that Richard knows the comment wasn’t really meant for him at all, and says:

“We’ve been praying for you, you know. You and little Dicky.”

Suzanne’s smile goes a bit off-center but she is turning the lean into a quick goodbye hug already and moving and--

“Praying for Junior?” Richard finds himself saying. His blood has gone a bit cold somehow. “Why?”

Maybe he meant it to come out confused and dumb-like. It doesn’t. It comes out like he actually meant it: accusatory. Barely polite.

Martha freezes. Suzanne sort of looks at him, her eyes flashing a bit of a warning. He doesn’t know if it’s to not cause drama or to just ignore it but he does neither of those things. He just stands and waits for her answer.

“Well,” Martha says, glancing quickly around, probably to check who is listening. No one really appears to be so far. He hadn’t actually spoken that loudly. “Well, you know, with the… the… you know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says. Suzanne is definitely glaring at him a bit now.

“We’re not judging,” Martha is saying, voice almost a whisper. “We love Dicky. We do. We’re just keeping him in our prayers while he works through…”

She fades out or at least Richard doesn’t hear if she says more because all he can hear is his son worrying that he is messed up somehow, that he needs to be fixed, that he’s anything less than perfect.

“My son,” Richard starts and it’s a bit of a fight to keep his voice even. He clears his throat and tries again. “My son is the captain of his college hockey team, is graduating this May, and is currently dating someone who makes him very happy. A man. His boyfriend. My son’s boyfriend makes him very happy. He just told me. He is very happy.”

Richard takes a breath. Now people are looking. Not everyone, he hadn’t been talking quite loud enough to cause that, but people near them are looking and Martha’s mouth is sort of hanging open and, actually, Suzanne looks a bit shocked himself and suddenly Richard is very aware that he does not want to be the center of attention anymore. If ever.

“I- Well I--” Martha tries to start up again but Richard cannot even express how much he does not want to hear it.

“I reckon you should save your prayers for those who actually need ‘em,” Richard says. “Which doesn’t include my boy.”

He moves then. He doesn’t care what she has to say or what anyone else has to say, and, God help him, he doesn’t even know if he cares what Suzanne has to say, not if it’s something negative or worried about the gossip he just started. He just nods one last time at her because that’s what he does when he walks away from someone and takes a few quick strides out of the room. Then it’s down the hall and hang a left and there.

Outside.

That’s a bit better. Suzanne is right. It does get too hot in there.

He’s just sort of standing there, taking deep breaths, calming down, hands on his hips, when suddenly an arm links through his.

He waits a beat before looking down at Suzanne.

Her grin is blinding.

“You are brilliant,” she says, standing on her tip-toes and that’s his cue to lean over for a kiss on the cheek and he can feel a blush coming on (Junior thinks he gets that from his Mama, but that’s all Bittle). “Brilliant! I wish I had a picture of her face. God, she’s been saying that shit-- excuse my language, Jesus-- that shit for months and I’ve just been ignoring it and you! You just… Brilliant!”

She is bouncing and happy and they walk to the car, arm in arm, like back when they were dating and, alright, let’s not throw a parade or anything, he tells her, well aware that he’s still blushing, but--

It’s a start.

#check please #check please fanfiction #look whos writing again #also i already have TWO MORE ideas about bitty and his relationship with coach changing after this #i shall try to write them ASAP #lest i forget #my fic #richard bittle #coach bittle #canon compliant #bittle familiy feels #coach is a guy trying to do better #also is he just a fictionalized version of my father??#sources say maybe #suzanne bittle #she is also here though not in a major way

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poppunkdee · 3 years

Text

Running

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Latina!reader. AO3

Warnings: Explicit (no smut but there's violence and mentions of death) some angst and unrequited love? let me know if I should add any other warnings.

Word Count:14.7k

A/N: Guys this is my first try at writing Frankie and honestly it was supposed to be just a tiny angsty thing and it became this monster retelling of the entire movie! So honestly read at your own risk!

The beat of the music felt like it was still beating within your chest even now that you’ve stepped out of the reception hall and onto the balcony overlooking the ocean. The full moon bathed you, and the waves crashing below you, in a soft white glow. The night was perfect. You suppose that's why they chose this place, you would have too if it had been you. The hem of your dress rippled in the wind against your ankles, the slit along your left leg billowed open for a second before someone joined you. Your dress trapped between you and the man standing on your left. His warmth radiated through your leg giving your chilled body a respite from the goosebumps that had made themselves comfortable on your skin.

“South America, huh?” You finally ask after a few minutes of silence. “Think that's the answer?” You take another sip from your drink. The alcohol does nothing to warm you up, just keeping you in that numb state that you’ve held yourself in since the beginning of the day. The heavy weight of your heart was a bit less of a burden with the coursing hot liquor thrumming through your veins.

The silence passes long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to respond. He finally set his glass down on the railing, his drink sloshing a bit. “There’s nothing left for me here.” He finally whispers quietly enough that you thought it was more to himself than to you, his head bowed down a bit, a sigh leaving his body as if against his will. A few more seconds pass, the part of your dress that wasn’t trapped, moving with the breeze. The music slowed down inside and you knew there was no way you could go back in there, years of working in the most dangerous situations, but a wedding had you wondering how to pull off a hard out. “I could use a friend out there, Tweets.” He finally says as he shifts his body to look at you, your dress rippling in the wind once more now that it wasn’t trapped, those goosebumps reappearing on your skin. You can tell he’s trying to persuade you with the use of your callsign. A name Frankie had given you after the team discovered your twitter account where you would live tweet movies while drunk.

You mirror his movements to meet his gaze, “You’ve got friends here” you look back down at your drink. Your fingers lightly tracing the rim of the cup as you let out a whisper, “Friends that need you.”

He releases a long breath and looks back towards the door separating the both of you from the celebration that should have been filling you with happiness. A happiness you can't seem to muster when your hearts are breaking with every kiss within those walls, “You and I both know we don’t have shit here. Not anymore.” He sucks his tongue against his teeth, the noise lost with the wind and the crash of the waves below you. “Not now.”

With a slight huff you finally give him a good look. His combed hair had lost its integrity after he ran his hands through it all day. His blue dress shirt was loose around his waist, almost pulling free from where he had tucked it onto his pants, a dark spot along his back where sweat had pooled after dancing throughout the night. To everyone else he was the perfect best man, dancing and smiling, his toast was beautiful. But you knew him, you knew that his smiles never managed to reach his eyes, you knew that the tears he shed at the end of his toast weren’t just due to the happiness he felt for his friend, but also due to the heartbreak that the woman he loves was now married to his best friend. You were sure that he could see the exact same in your own eyes.

The team was well aware of your feelings for the groom, how you had finally found the courage to tell him how you felt. The cheers they gave you at the booth you all shared when you announced that you were finally going to tell him, only for him to show up with a date, a girl who looked vaguely familiar. The team gave you sad pats on the back at the end of that night. Telling you it probably won’t last, don’t give up hope. Then, six months later when Frankie announced the engagement you and Pope had gotten equally trashed, that night he let you know that he and Vanessa had been sleeping together before your last tour, and how she refused to see him when the team returned stateside despite him confessing his feelings to her. She had moved on, the tour had gone on longer than she expected and she had moved on. What surprised them both was that she had moved on with someone from his team. Santiago had only thought about getting back home to her, but she had slipped through his fingers during the team’s deployment. Frankie met her through a dating app, letting her know that he was retiring soon. Santi couldn’t blame her, just as much as he couldn’t blame his friend for falling in love with her. Now, you both found each other taking refuge on a balcony at the wedding of the two people you both loved.

“Flight leaves in two days” he breaks the silence again. This time picking up his glass, his drink sloshing a bit more forcefully letting you know he was drunk enough to face the party again, turning back towards the building he added, “You know where to find me.”

“Santi” you say just before he opens the door leading back into the reception, his fingers still on the door handle, “I’ll miss you.”

You lasted two weeks. Two weeks after Frankie and Vanessa returned from their honeymoon. The night you bought your one way ticket to South America felt worse than the wedding. It was another fight night. Fight night was exclusively team nights, the guys gave you so much shit when you brought a date once. The poor guy was unable to keep up with the jokes at his expense, but was sharp enough to know that he wasn’t welcome. He left halfway into the night and you never heard from him again. So when Frankie showed up with Vanessa your heart felt like someone was giving it a tight little squeeze. Even Will didn’t bring Monica, his finance, along to fight nights. The feeling returned with a vengeance when Benny gave her a bear hug and that goofy grin of his when she cheered him on. You decided that maybe two beers wasn’t going to be enough to get you through the night. The rest of the night passed by in a blur of loud cheers, the sounds of men beating the shit out of each other, Frankie’s voice when he yelled out his support to Benny, and the laughs he let out when Vanessa would whisper something into his ear. Benny took three hits that drew blood, but your bleeding heart ached with a hurt you had never been trained to ignore. It was when Vanessa leaned into Frankie’s body and he placed a soft kiss on her forehead when you decided that enough was enough. Pope was right, there was nothing left for you here. Will made sure to drive you home, he helped you climb up the stairs to your apartment. Once inside and making sure you sat you down on your couch without toppling over, he shuffled over to grab a glass of water from your kitchen.

“You can’t do this forever you know.” His soft words reached you as he handed you the glass of water and sat down on your coffee table facing you.

He didn’t have to elaborate for you to know where he was going with this conversation. “I know” was all you managed to choke out, a tear rolling down your cheek. You take a gulp of water to try to calm your emotions. Jesus you’ve been trained to keep them in check yet here you are, drunk and breaking down, because your fucking broken heart couldn’t take it anymore. “I know, but I-” you cut yourself off when a sob claws its way out of you. “Will I-” you try to speak again but after the first one made its way out you had no way to control the rest of the tears that began to pour out of you.

“Hey, hey come here.” Will moved to sit next to you, a bit awkwardly. Although the team saw you as a younger sister, Pope was always the one you seeked when it came to stuff like this. Yet, he still wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face into his chest and finally let go. You have no idea how long he held you like that, but he kept you close until your sobs subsided into hiccups and and your tears had stopped soaking his hoodie. Your heart had taken a beating that night that you weren’t sure you would ever recover from.

“I think Pope could use a friend” You break the silence that fell between the two of you. His chest moved as he released a deep sigh. You sort of expected him to scold you about running away. Instead he released you and handed you the glass of water that had been forgotten on the coffee table.

Waiting until you finished the glass of water Will finally asked, “You sure about that, Tweets?” His tone was gentle, as if he was afraid that you would start crying again. You briefly wondered if he was always this uncomfortable with crying women. Shaking the thought from you head you will yourself back to the conversation.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath and released it along with a stray sob, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Will, Monica, and Benny helped you store a few belongings into a storage shed later that weekend. Handing Benny a copy of the key to the shed and the keys to your now empty apartment, you gave him a tight hug and a; “Don’t let them hit you too hard, Benny” before climbing out of his car and walking into the airport.

The next week you and Pope were planning a tactical raid of a house connected to a major cartel.

-----

“No.” Your voice was hard when Pope had outlined his plan to ask the team for help once Yovanna had finally given him the location of Lorea. “I don’t want them to be involved.”

“It's been three years.” Pope sighed. With one look at your face he started again, “Fine, I can ask them to just come down for the recce, just three days, then we hand it over to the agency and everyone can go home again.”

“You and I both know you want them for the full op.” You nibble on your bottom lip as you look over the plan again. He was right, you hate it but he was right, you need the team for this. You’ve both been here too long, chasing down clues and people that got you nowhere, and dealing with corrupt police officers. Sure you’ve both bent some of your own rules, telling yourselves the good outweighed the bad. Taking money from people you knew you shouldn’t, but you’ve survived. Three years and you haven’t been murdered in the streets, yet. Finally you had a chance to bring down Lorea and you were afraid that seeing one particular teammate might bring back feelings you were sure you had dealt with in the past three years? No you told yourself this is bigger than you. “Fine, but I’m not going back to ask them.” You agree swiftly and begin to walk towards the door of his apartment. His voice makes you pause when you’re halfway to the door.

Pope calls out your name, you know he's about to say something you’re not sure you’re going to like, Pope hardly uses your name unless he wants you to listen. Like a scolded child, you choose not to look back at him letting him continue talking to your back, “I only need one pilot, I don't have to ask the whole team.”

Pope was looking out for you, you know that, but something dark inside you made you want to punch him for implying that the reason you didn’t want to involve the team was because you were scared of seeing Frankie again. Yes, you were apprehensive about it, but you weren’t about to risk an op going wrong just to save yourself from seeing someone you had worked so hard to get over. Lorea was one lucky son of a bitch for evading your efforts for so long but he was not going to continue getting away with this shit anymore, not when you finally had his location. “Call the fucking team, Garcia” was all that you said to him before walking out.

-----

“How are we doing up here?” Pope asks when he feels the chopper struggling as it keeps gaining altitude.

You give Santiago a look that he reads in a second. Tom had been pissing you off since before he implied that Yovanna was a loose end that needed to be clipped, and despite being well aware of your anger he kept prodding at you as you helped Fish pilot the chopper. If the boys saw you as a little sister, Tom saw you as the annoying one that had to be dragged everywhere in order to keep mom happy. These past three years had let you forget how much the man managed to get under your skin.

“How ‘bout you give them space to do what they need to, yeah?” Pope taps his shoulder and gestures towards the seat he had just vacated as he speaks to Tom.

“I’m good here.” Tom replied in the same hard tone he uses to give orders. You roll your eyes at the tone, Redfly was quick to take the lead when it came to the team. Even if this plan was outlined to go smoothly by yourself and Pope before he got greedy.

Santiago looks like he wants to push Tom over to the seat, but thinks better of it and directs his next words at you, “Do you think we can make it over?’ just as the lowest ridge gets closer and closer.

“I don’t know” You reply, keeping your grip on the joystick in front of you steady. You’ve flown over this section of the sky several times in the past three years. Flying out here to catch the sunset brought you peace that you’ve only shared with one other person. However today your heart felt heavy as you soared over the jungle. The man you had shared this with was no longer by your side, and the one that was, well running from daydreams with him was the reason you found yourself here in the first place.

“Fish?” Tom asks, as if your assessment was not good enough. You roll your eyes at his words. Just because you had only flown for the last tour the team was active didn’t mean you were any less skilled of a pilot.

Frankie doesn’t blink an eye when he replies, “Tweets is right, I’m not sure” Just as he says that the engine makes a noise that you and Fish both know is never a good sign.

“Alright, baby alright” Fish tells the chopper as it begins to shake harder and the engine whines. You know you should be paying more attention to the struggling bird, but when he talks to the helicopter in that raspy whisper you can’t help but think about how it would feel to have him say those words to you. You never cared for your name, but if he whispered it to you like that...well, that thought left you slightly breathless. “Come on now.” You shake your head internally, now is not the time! You can tell from his voice that his focus is fully on the task at hand. His tunnel vision has sucked him in and he sounds like he's determined to make it over the ridge out of sheer force of will.

“Fish” You warn as a loud beeping begins giving you warning signs of redlining, the joystick in your hands vibrating with the efforts of the engine. “Fish, we’re redlining!” you press more urgently as the beeping becomes more insistent. Behind you you hear Pope telling the others to strap in.

“It's close though.” Frankie says as he ignores the beeps and your warnings just as the ridge expands below you. His voice had an almost calm demeanor, one that you just could not fathom with the panic that was beginning to bubble within your chest.

“FISH!” You yell when the chopper gives another unforgiving bump.

“It’s too much weight, its too much fucking weight” Frankie finally concedes lifting his voice above the whine of the engine, his focus no longer on the ridge but on you as you look up at him in alarm, the crease between his brows finally allows the panic into your chest to spread. “We’re never gonna make it!” His grip on the joystick makes his knuckles white, and the vein in his neck jutting out a bit as he growls out that last bit. You briefly wonder what it would feel like to run your tongue along that vein.

Jesus, snap out of it!

Tom appears behind you again, this time you're glad for his interruption, “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re losing fucking money” Fish replies as the joystick he holds begins to vibrate with the same force as the one you’re holding on to.

“You wanna leave $50 million in the middle of the fucking jungle?” Tom asks incredulously.

“You wanna get to the ocean?” Frankie replies without missing a beat, looking over at Tom with an eyebrow raised as if asking him to challenge him. Frankie was always the calm, level headed one on the team so when he gave anyone that look he meant business.

Pope intervenes before you could add to the fire, “Alright, go do it!” he calls into the back letting Benny and Will know that you have to lose weight in order to get things back to normal.

You can hear shuffling in the back and the sound of the wind whipping through the cabin as the others throw duffles out of the main cabin. You look over at Frankie as you chew your bottom lip from the stress, his eyes reflecting the same worry as he meets your gaze. You're not sure if its the adrenaline or the look he gives you, but you feel a shiver run through your body with the weight of his eyes. As soon as a few duffles are thrown out you can feel the vibrations on your joystick lower in intensity, and the bird rises just a bit from the loss of weight. Feeling like you physically have to pull yourself away from Frankie’s gaze your eyes survey the gages across the console.

“How is she feeling now?” Pope’s voice carries towards you and Frankie.

“Better!” You shout over the noise of the ramp closing.

“Come on!” Frankie begins to mutter under his breath in that whisper once again, “Come on.”

“Fish we-” you’re about to warn him that your joy stick began to vibrate again when you get a glimpse of the ocean. The sun reflects off the water, giving off a mesmerizing effect as the waves ripple across the surface. For a moment you let the view warm your insides, sending a wave of calm through your body. You’re about 100 meters away from the ridge when the gearbox gives out.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Will’s voice rings in your ears along with the rapid beeping within the cockpit and Frankie’s groan as he pulls on the joystick so that you don’t lose control and fall into a spin. You blink rapidly as you’re pulled back to the cockpit. The bird was losing altitude, alarms were blaring and the joystick in your hands was getting harder and harder to keep steady.

“We should land, we should land now!” Frankie tells you as the jungle gets closer with every second. At this point your heart feels like it might fall out of your butt. Despite all the crazy situations you’ve been in while miles up in the air, a failing bird was always one of your biggest fears.

“Copy that!” You reply as you start preparing for a crash land and quickly think back to the area you had just flown over, looking for a valley in the thick jungle. The panic you had felt before when Fish had seemed so determined was gone, your adrenaline rushing through your body like it would when you had to pick up the men from a hard out. Your nimble fingers began to attend all the proper switches while your right hand kept the joystick you held steady. All while your eyes darted across the jungle below you looking for a flat surface.

“Crash land here and we all die!” Tom yells at you when he sees you preparing for a landing.

Ignoring him you call out, “There should be a farmer's field on the other side of that ridge, we passed it on the way up!”

“I remember it!” Frankie says as he tries to maneuver the rapidly failing bird.

Just as the bird made it over the ridge the gearbox gave another awful groan and two more alarms began to wail within the cockpit.

“We need to lose the money” You tell Frankie over the headset.

Tom looks at you both as if you’ve lost your minds. But before you can yell at him Frankie beats you to it, “LOSE THE MONEY OR WE ALL DIE!” He shouts past Tom and into the cabin his adam's apple bobbing with the effort of shouting over the noise within the cockpit. “Hit the external release” he continues to shout as Tom begins to strap himself into the seat Pope had offered him earlier.

“It didn’t work!” you hear Pope shout from within the cabin. Your adrenaline rush had you calculating the outcome of keeping the bag below you and you did not like the odds.

“There should be a manual override!” Frankie instructs as you both begin to sweat from the exertion of trying to keep the bird in the air long enough to drop the load so that everyone will have a chance of surviving the hard landing. Behind you there is more shouting and then the groan of the bird when the bag is finally released. The second the bag is dropped the joystick in your grip jumps up from the lack of weight holding it down, and you vaguely hear Fish curse.

“FUCK, I GOTTA JUMP” Benny’s voice is almost lost in the chaos that ensues after the chopper jerks to the left as Frankie tries to circle around the field where he was attempting to land. The joystick in your hand gave an awful jerk that ripped it from your hands. Your heart felt like it had jumped out of your chest for a second as your fingers tried reaching for it once more, although gravity pulled you away from it with the way the bird tipped.

“Bad landing” Fish grunted out. You were on the verge of responding with a sarcastic reply, when another sudden pull jerked you forward and back, causing you to hit your head. You vaguely hear Frankie call your name before you pass out.

---

You’ve had quite enough of the bickering the team has kept up since the crash. The tension in the air was so thick it felt suffocating. That’s why you had chosen to sit a bit further away from the rest of the team when stopping for the night. Pope’s question about who shot first had begun to fester between him and Tom and you knew it was a matter of time before the two of them would be at eachothers throats. On top of that the pouring rain was not helping with anyone’s mood. Although you desperately wanted to build one, you knew that a fire would attract unwanted attention, so you kept quiet. Deciding instead to keep your thoughts on the noise of the rain pattering against the vegetation, rather than on the cold seeping into your bones.

“You okay?” Frankie’s voice drifted over to you as he sat down next to you.

“Yeah” you paused, “Well, no, but I will be.” You tell him knowing that there was no way you could hide the emotions that were bubbling up in your chest from your expressive eyes. The guys had trained for this, they knew how to push past their emotions during a crisis. They had lived to see their way out of many failed missions. You however had managed to stay a safe distance away. Your skills as a sharpshooter allowed you to stay at a distance, and later when you gained your pilots license, you were only ever in the line of fire when dropping them off on a mission or picking them up once they had reached a rendezvous point. Sure your time out here had kept you in a state of perpetual danger, but your ops lasted at most three hours, then you could deal with the aftermath in your apartment with your late boyfriend or later with Santi when he wasn’t curled up with Yovanna. This was different, you had trained for this years ago, but you’ve been out of practice and it was starting to get to you.

Frankie nodded at you, understanding clearly in his eyes, “You and Pope make a pretty great team.” he changes the subject as he hands you an MRE. “He told me you two have been doing a good job of looking out for each other these past few years.”

You stir the contents of the MRE together, thinking about how you’d thought you’d left this gunk behind when your team was retired. “Before Yovanna, he and I were all we had out here.” You tell him as you scoop out a bit of the gunk and shovel it into your mouth. Despite your hatred of the stuff it tasted like heaven after hiking through the jungle all day.

“Can I ask you something?” Frankie asks after a few minutes of watching you eat.

You swallow the bite you just took and meet his eyes. His soft brown eyes, peering at you from under his cap, have a question you were afraid of facing since Pope told you he intended to bring the team down. A question you had been running from for three years. You wanted to say no, to shut it down and tell him you didn’t want to talk about anything at the moment. You knew he would sit there in silence with you, that he won’t pry if you choose to not to let him. But you also knew that it wasn’t fair to him, two of his closest friends moved just after one of the most important chapters of his life, he deserved an explanation. “What is it, Cat?”

“Why’d you leave?” He asks softly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer but he had to ask. “I know why Pope left, but why did you follow? If he and-” he paused as if trying to reach for the right words, “I thought you two would have…” his voice trails off, but his implication lingered in the air.

“Pope offered me a job.” You start, then decide he deserves the full truth instead of half truths, and if Santiago had come clean about why he left, you could too. “I couldn’t stay for the same reason Pope couldn’t,” you finally say when the MRE envelope was empty. “I thought I could, I thought it would pass, that I could truly go on with life like I had before, but it hurt too much to see the person I loved find happiness with someone else.” You kept your eyes fixed on the envelope, your fidgety hands had started folding it down. “So I ran, Pope offered me an out and I took it. Eventually, he and Yovanna found each other, and I...I found purpose within the job.” You decide he doesn’t need to know about the man you fell in love with and lost within the first year you had lived here. “I’m sorry for not saying goodbye, I took the cowards way out. I know that, but after...I just knew I couldn’t stay.” You fell silent after your mumbled explanation. Half expecting him to shuffle away now that you all but told him that the reason you left was because you were in love with him.

After what felt like an eternity, his hands reached out to stop yours from fidgeting with the envelope. He plucked the small folded packaging from your fingertips and wrapped his warm hands over your smaller ones. “I’m sorry-” he began, using that soft, but firm tone of voice he used when he wanted to make sure you were listening, but he didn’t get much out before the conversation the rest of the team was having drifted over and made you both turn towards the rest of the group, his hands leaving yours. However, it was then that you noticed his left hand was bare. A tan that should have been on his forefinger was missing, and for a brief second your brain was struggling to remember if his wedding band had been missing since he and the rest of the team arrived, or if he removed it for the op.

“We’re dancing with the Devil now” Benny’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head at the dangerous path your mind was taking, you look up to hear Frankie’s reply.

“Dancing?” He had scoffed out, “We were dancing when we got on a plane to come down here. I would call this full intercourse.”

Benny chuckled at the way Fish reacted to his statement. Looking over with concern when his brother grunted out a noise of agreement as he made himself comfortable...well, as comfortable as he can get on a rock with a bullet wound on his abdomen. “How you doing, bud?” He asked his older brother.

“Golden.” Will let out as he closed his eyes.

“Here.” Benny offered his brother a mango that he had grabbed from the village where the team had crashed.

“You’re a good man Benny.” Will tells his brother as he accepts the mango, “We’re a dying breed boys.” He chuckles giving you a wink.

“No, we’re not” Benny argues, “The world is always going to need someone to go door to door to hold the line.”

“Cops go door to door to hold the line” Will returns, “We were warriors.”

“Well, it's hard to remember that sometimes.” Benny shoots back, you don't miss the way Frankie’s hand clenched into a fist. The same one that was holding yours not too long ago. The same one that was missing a ring.

“Yeah it is” He chimes in after he manages to unclench his fist and slides his open palms against his legs as he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, pulling his body into a hunched position.

“What are you talking about?” Will asks him when he sees Frankie poke out from the ridge in his new position.

“I was too quick on the trigger. You know it, and I know it.” Frankie tells him, his fingers fidgeting with one another as he berates himself for the shots fired at the crash site. You want to pull his hands back towards you once more, but he’s pulled himself away from you and you don’t want to overstep. “I killed those people.” He lets out, anguish coating his words.

“No, you didn't,” Benny says, “We all did.” You nodded in agreement along with Will. Your fidget with the strap of your gun. It’s been a while since you’ve had to sleep with it strapped to your chest. Sure your handgun was always by your bedside, but this was different. Here with adrenaline running through your blood and the fear of being discovered made that section of your brain click back into focus where you shot first and asked questions later. The army gave you many skills, but sometimes you wonder what life might have been like if you had chosen a different path, one that didn’t require you to know how to make a clean shot from a mile away. Maybe you might be able to sleep through the night.

You spend the rest of the night taking shifts watching the camp as everyone sleeps. Your shift is shared with Will and he’s quick to catch you up on what you’ve missed back home. From Benny finally moving out of your apartment last year, Monica finishing her degree, to the new gym he and Benny have been training in.

“Finally tied the knot then?” You ask when your conversation lulls into a bit of silence and you’re dangerously close to nodding off.

Will smiles as he plays with the band around his finger, “Yeah, Monica told me her engagement ring was turning green on her finger and threatened to ask for a new one if I didn’t hurry up and take her to a chapel.” He chuckles at the face you gave him.

“Don’t tell me you two eloped?” your eyes wide as you realize what he was saying.

“Hey, it was her idea!” He chuckles as he raises his hands up as if surrendering, “Said she was tired of saving up for a dream wedding. So we took a weekend off and got hitched at the white chapel in Vegas. Figured if it was good enough for celebrities it was good enough for us.” He shrugged his shoulders, his smile faltering a bit when the movement caused discomfort on his wound.

“You two are amazing.” You laugh, thinking about how Monica would absolutely match Will’s spontaneity and jump on a plane to get married. “I miss her.” You let out in a voice dripping with sleep. You missed all of them, even if Tom always managed to get under your skin, you missed your boys.

“What about you, hot shot?” Will’s voice makes you peel your eyes open, “Is there another hot informant we might meet once we make it to the ocean?”

You want to laugh at Will’s wording, the team was not going to get information about Yovanna from you. “Nah, mine-” You let out a soft sigh, “No, mine wasn’t as lucky.”

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t know.” He said quickly when he noticed the far off look in your eyes.

“It’s alright, Will.” You pull your jacket closer to your body as you settle into the rock you were leaning into. “I was shit at keeping in touch, wasn’t I?” you ask.

Will looked up at you, “No one blames you.” He jutted out his chin in your direction as if asking you to continue.

With a smile you tell him, “He wasn’t an informant, he was actually part of the tactical team we worked with.” You explain, remembering the man who helped stitch your heart back together. His warm smiles and the way he would hold you tight after an op went sideways. A soft smile spread across your face. You weren’t a stranger to death, hell your career choice was proof of that. So remembering your past partner with fond memories and burying yourself in finding Lorea was one way to cope with the loss.

“So you’ve got a type huh?” He teases while wagging his eyebrows towards Frankie’s sleeping form. “Teammates” he mouths the word, as if the sleeping team might overhear your conversation. “I know you're a couple months older than Benny, but then age never seemed to bother you, so don’t go breaking my little brother’s heart.” He adds with a shit eating grin.

Laughing you shoot him a half hearted glare. “You cannot tease me, William.” You say, “Don’t forget that you had a bad habit of dating blondes before you found Monica.”

“Hey, hey didn’t you have blonde hair for a while?” He shoots back giving you one of his goofy grins, you flip him a bird in response. Oh yes, you missed your boys dearly.

“Shut up!” You try to glare at him but your laughter overtakes you.

“Alright, fine I’ll take over your shift if y’all won’t shut up and let us sleep.” Benny’s voice cuts through your laughter.

“Shit sorry, Benny.” You let out when you were finally able to get your giggles under control.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t go falling in love with me.” He says with a grin.

You roll your eyes at them both when they start laughing anew. Huffing out that you were getting some much needed sleep, you lean further into the rock behind you and close your eyes. Missing the dark brown eyes tracking your movements.

---

The next two days were brutal on your feet. The jungle was unforgiving and even more so when you had to cross a river and continue hiking in wet clothing, you felt horrible that the animals you bought at the village were forced to continue walking while carrying wet packs. Although, it was too dangerous to stop and dry off by a fire, so you kept your complaints to yourself. By the evening of the second day tempers were running short and the trail was getting even more dangerous when you reached a ridge that changed the landscape into a rocky terrain.

The side of the ridge was dangerous. The trail was narrow and the drop was steep should you lose your footing. You had your eyes on the ground focusing where your next step would be and making sure your mule was staying on the side closest to the rocky wall.

“Stop pushing man, it's steep up here.” You hear Benny’s voice up ahead, Pope was leading the group with Tom, Benny, Will, you and Frankie taking the rear.

“Obviously, Man. We are on the side of a fucking mountain.” You hear William’s heated reply to his brother.

“Just shut up and concentrate! Jesus Christ!” You hear Frankie yell out behind you. Much closer than you thought he was, giving you a start. Your mule felt your moment of panic and made a soft whining noise.

“Come, on. Just go.” Will says as he stops in front of you causing you to place a soft hand on the nose of your mule, signaling to stop.

“Fuck you!” You hear Benny reply. You can feel the tension between the two brothers, wishing you had taken the spot between them so that you could have defused the situation.

“Oh really?” Will’s shout causes your mule to startle once more, giving a loud huff and pulling away from you. You quickly try to calm the animal down by gently tugging on the rope you held in your hand, and trying to reach out to pet his nose again. The animal, however, refused to calm down. It’s shrieks of fear got louder as the shouting between Benny and Will got louder. Eventually Tom’s voice joined, but you were too busy trying to calm down your mule to focus on what was being said.

Frankie noticed that your mule was retreating and you heard his low. “Whoa, Whoa” when it bumped into him behind you. Then, “Oh shit.”

The animal had tried to step back further but after sensing Frankie behind it, it tried stepping to the side, missing the ridge and slipping down. You felt the burn of the rope as it quickly slipped through your fist. You had been gripping the rope so tightly that for a second the weight brought you to your knees before you let go completely. The mule let out an awful screaming noise as it fell to its death. Leaving everyone in a tense silence as you look over the ridge where an explosion of cash puffed up as the mule and the cash made impact with the rocks below you. You hear an exasperated laugh as you kneel there looking down with wide eyes. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” You hear the words before you realize they left your lips.

“That was a living animal man.” Pope’s voice drifts into the air as you stumble back on to your feet. Frankie shuffled close to you, giving you a hand up.

“It could have been any one of us that went over,” Tom starts in a sarcastic tone, “and y’all worried about the fucking donkey?”

“You need to get your shit straight here, man.” You hear Pope’s response.

“What?” Tom replies. While the two are shouting at each other Frankie shuffles closer to you, helping you get on your feet once more and carefully dusting your hands of the pebbles that were embedded in your palms. “Me?”

“Yeah, you” You surprise Frankie when it was you who answered Tom instead of Pope. His fingers pausing what they were doing as he looks at you shouting in the direction of Tom.

“Don’t point your fingers at me!” Tom yells back at you. Frankie's fingers give your hand a squeeze. You know he's telling you to stand down, but you're too heated up to stop. Will and Benny share a silent look as the shouting is directed towards you. Tom and you might have passive aggressive arguments but he has never yelled at you like that. You hardly realize that Frankie has handed you the rope for his own mule. He begins to make his way towards Tom, knowing you're not going to heed his warning and stop yelling.

“You’re the only reason we are in this mess!” You continue. You sweep your arm out, the one that isn’t holding the rope, and gesture towards the situation that you all find yourselves in. Pope gives you a nod in agreement.

“Oh? How the fuck is that?” Tom asks you sarcastically, the ire in his voice evident as he yells at you from his position at the top of the trail.

After three years of taking care of eachother Pope’s anger rose when Tom turned on you. His reply was in a bitingly cold tone, “Don’t talk to her like that! You’re the one that had to grab every dollar you could get your hands on, didn’t you?”

“Both of you could have gotten Lorea two months ago! We didn’t have to be here, if you knew how to do your jobs right!” Tom spits back at both of you.

“Alright!” you hear Pope reply and push forward, seemingly done fighting with Tom.

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom yells after him.

“We are all on the hook, are we not?” Frankie asks Tom his voice strong and low, he has reached Tom at this point, his palm raised towards him. “Stop it!” He says in a raised voice, driving his point further.

“Fucking horse!” Tom grits out as his horse whines at the shouting.

“Stop it!” Frankie tells him again, this time his voice carries.

“Fine. Fine!’ Tom agrees when he sees the look Frankie gives him.

“We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now okay?” Frankie tells Tom now that he has his attention. “One foot in front of the other alright? Lets go.” He commands lifting an eyebrow when Tom looks like he might say something else to you. You stand your ground head held high in an almost challenging manner. “Jesus Christ.” Frankie mutters as Tom finally turns back around and continues following Santiago, who was further up the trail.

You, Benny, and Will exchange glances, the brothers deciding to give up whatever argument they had between themselves and began walking when Frankie gave them another wave of his hand to keep them going. Determined now to get off the side of a deadly mountain.

---

About two hours later as Frankie is scaring off the animals and you’re sitting on top of the ridge with Tom you decide you have to talk out your differences. It’s been a hard mission for everyone and it wasn’t fair to throw those words in Tom’s face. Not when he had a point, it could have been anyone of you that fell with that mule. With the way the rope pulled you and stung your hands, you remember it could have been you.

“Look, I talked a lot of shit back there. I didn’t mean that.” You say in between hard puffs of breath. You had after all just finished lugging over 100 bags of cash over a rocky ridge.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tom says shaking his head as if begging you not to bring it up any longer. Normally you would have just dropped it there, but call it your guilt for disappearing or your closest brush with death you wanted to make sure this time you cleared the air. “No, no its...this is on me. I could have talked Pope out of calling the team down here. But I didn’t, I knew it wasn’t just a recce and yet I let him bring you down here with only that information.” You take another breath, and Tom takes advantage of the pause to cut you off.

“No. I’m on the hook for this. You know? It is what it is.” Tom tells you as you hear Pope climb up next to you both.

Having caught the end of your conversation he interjects. “I am a bit of a dick, you know?” Giving you a tap on your leg so you can move out of the way he looks at Tom and says, “it is what it is, but also, Tweets is right. Sorry about earlier.”

Tom gives a small laugh agreeing with him as he gives you a hand while you climb over a boulder to move out of the way. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze before he lets go entirely. You know in his own way Tom has forgiven you both, you only hope that later, he can forgive himself.

After everyone has made it over the ridge and you’ve managed to pile the bags in a semicircle you pull out the last MRE envelopes in your pack. Handing one to each of the men, “It's mangoes only after this, boys.” You tell them as they each take an envelope.

“You could freeze an eskimos asshole out here.” Will says as he settles down to lean against the bags.

“I demand a fire.” Benny grunts out as he sits between Pope and Tom.

You laugh at the absurdity of Will’s statement. Shaking your head you decide that one argument was enough for today, no need to tell him that the Inuit people of the north wouldn’t agree with his word choice.

“We cold camp.” Will tells his brother as the group begins to settle in for the night.

Benny, ever the trouble maker reaches for one of the bags. Curious you watch his movements, as he pulls out a wad of bills and lights it on fire. “Fuck you.” he says holding the wad of cash looking directly at Will. “This is my ‘fuck you’ money.” Pope lets out a laugh next to you, his shoulders bumping into you gently.

“Dude what the fuck are you doing?” Will asks his brother as Benny waves the money torch in front of him, the warmth reaching you even with Santiago sitting between the two of you.

With a chuckle Tom answers for him, “Not enough men to carry all this money so we might as well be warm.” That was all Benny needed to keep going. He placed the bill in the center of the semi circle and reached for more, lighting it up as well.

“Jesus Christ” Frankie says on the other side of you, laughing at the absurdity of watching money go up in flames.

“Este loco” Santiago says, elbowing you as a smile finally appears on your face once you feel the warmth reach you.

Will looks apprehensive, at the growing flame. When suddenly Tom stands, opens a suitcase and throws the entire contents into the flame. Watching the bundles light up the boys begin laughing a bit harder.

“That’s a fire!’ Benny exclaims as the warmth begins to creep up your bodies. Will still looking apprehensive refuses to join in the laughter but does scoot a bit closer to feel the warmth radiating from the center.

Once you see that the boys look adequately warm you lean back against the bags and fight the edges of sleep. You still haven’t agreed to who will keep watch for the first half of the night and you don’t want to fall asleep without knowing what time you should be up.

“Rest your eyes, I’ve got your six.” Frankie tells you leaning back to lay against the bags next to you, his hand coming down to rest on your knee. “I’ve got the first shift.” He answers the question left unsaid. With a smile in his direction you rest your head on his shoulder and drift off. You’re asleep before you can feel his arm wrap around you and pull you closer.

----

About halfway through the next day you’ve made what seems like less progress than the days before. The rocky terrain has made it harder to move the bags. Despite your best efforts to make the process go faster you hate that the team is so exposed in certain areas. Just as you were about to ask how many bags you still had to get through in order to change your positions, you hear the unmistakable sound of a gunshot ricocheting against one of the boulders.

The team drops below various rocks within seconds. The sound of two more shots echo through the air and you climb around the boulder, you were crouched under, pulling your weapon into position and using the scope to focus on the ridge above you.

“Fuck!” You can’t tell who yelled out but you hear more, “Shit, shit shit!” below you where the boys had been lined up throwing the bags down.

“I’m hit!’ You hear Benny shout somewhere below you. Quickly you follow his voice and push the scope above his position trying to follow the trajectory of a bullet from his position.

“Benny you alright?” Will shouts.

“Yeah I’m fine, just grazed my shoulder!”

You catch Pope’s eye from your position, and send him a hand signal. You’ve got eyes on one of them. Nodding his head Pope lets you know he’ll draw fire so that you can get a clear shot.

“Shooter’s up on the ridgeline!” Pope shouts. The men don’t have to be told twice, they aim towards the ridge as you continue to creep up. Pope starts climbing the ridge on the other side, while Frankie begins to climb up towards you.

Shots keep raining down on your team as you climb up your side of the trail, just as you’re about to yell out and give away your position Tom shouts up, “Since they like me so much let me draw out their fire, Pope, Will, try to flank either sides, make sure there’s not another!”

Deciding you can count on the others to make sure there's not another, you find a good spot to take a shot at the person above you. Looking through your scope and waiting for the shooter to pop out again. Sure enough after the men below you pause their shots to take on their new position a head pops out and you take your shot. Clean hit.

“Got one!” You shout as you look down to where Frankie was following you, to let him know you've got him. Although when you see him, you notice he's lifting his gun in your direction, but you're too late. As you spin back around in the direction Frankie is aiming, time seems to slow down. Above you you see the kid from the village, the one that refused to let Tom through, how did you miss him? He’s wearing a goddamn yellow shirt for Christsake! His gun was aimed in your direction, but you knew it wouldn't be a deadly blow from that position. That should have motivated you to get in position faster, to swing your rifle forward just a bit faster instead of what happened. You later think that you should have tipped just a little bit forward, then the bullet would have hit your vest, a bruise or even a broken rib would have been better than what happened. But you didn’t lean forward and it didn’t hit your vest. Instead you watched as the bullet grazed the outside of your right arm and then you heard the thump behind you. A single shot was heard after and then silence.

“RED! Tom!” The shouts were raw emotion as they clawed their way out of you. You attempt to scramble off the boulder towards the one where Tom was laying out on. Benny got to him first, you had struggled to climb down when your arm was refusing to hold your weight as you made your way towards Tom. Frankie was right behind you.

“Tom! Come on, Tom!’ Benny cried as he pulled Tom into an upright position. But you could tell from the bullet hole, that Tom was gone. You stood there shocked with your left hand grabbing your arm. You hardly felt the blood that was quickly staining your fingers until Will pushed past you to get to Tom and his brother.

Pope reached you next seeing Tom’s body he pulled off his cap and let out a whispered “Fuck’ next to you. You were still in shock. Death was no stranger, your last romantic partner died during one of your raids gone wrong. Yet here you were, still as a statue unable to feel the pain of your own injury as you stared at Tom’s body and the Miller brothers crying over your fallen teammate.

“Lets get him wrapped up we need to keep moving.” Will finally says as he pulls himself back up and directs his words up at you and Pope. You vaguely remember your motor skills and nod your head agreeing with him. It's not safe here, you’re too exposed.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Benny cries from the floor. “You’re a heartless son of a bitch!” He yells at his brother, refusing to let go of Tom’s body.

“It was your little fire that got him fucking killed!” William spits back at his brother, his voice lifting into a shout. After a beat Benny launched himself at his brother, throwing failing punches and pinning him against another boulder.

“Stop this shit, STOP THIS SHIT!” Pope yells as he pulls Benny off his brother with a grunt. His shout as he pushes past you breaks you out of your daze. Pulling yourself together you reach them and insert yourself between the two, using your weight to keep Will from retaliating with any punches now that his brother was successfully pulled away from him.

“Fuck you Benny, FUCK YOU!” Will shouted over your head as you struggled to press your weight against him. Your arm was searing with pain, but you held your ground. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold him too long and the way you can feel his chest rising you knew he had enough fight left inside him to push you off. Thankfully Frankie reached you in time to pull Will further back. Between the both of you, you managed to get Will to sit down on the rock behind him.

“It wasn’t the fire that gave us away!’ Santiago’s voice carried. “That kid was from the village. He’s been tracking us for days. He obviously wanted a clear shot at Tom. He wanted him.” Pope says emphasizing his point when he pulls you over and points out your wounded arm. “He had a clearer shot of Tweets, but he chose him.” You hiss lightly when your hand comes back up to check on the torn skin. “We do have to get the fuck out of here, and we are taking all that money with us!” Pope points at the duffles, now sitting below you. “Tom’s family deserves it!’ his voice cracks as he says that last bit. “And so do we.” Taking a deep gulp his voice evens out once more, “Alright let's wrap him up. We carry him down.”

Frankie is the first to move and begins pulling Tom’s gun off his body and switching the safety on. You decide that your arm injury can wait while you help. Tom needs to be wrapped up. Once Tom's body has been wrapped and has joined the bags at the bottom of the rocky landscape you sit down on a pile of bags.

"Let me." Frankie holds up a med kit as he kneels next to you.

"Thanks, Cat." you mumble out as he begins to pull out a syringe and gauze, "Wait, use mine." You begin to tap down your pockets noticing that your own med kit was missing. You don't recall using it.

"Umm...I already used it to patch up the cuts you had from the crash." Frankie tells you as he struggles to roll up your sleeve.

"Oh." You didn't even realize your cuts from the landing had been that bad. But then again you weren't exactly conscious for a bit after the rough landing. "Here, wait." You stop Frankie's movements and decide to help him reach your wound by removing your jacket and the shirt. You weren't expecting the look from Pope as you pulled the long sleeve shirt off your right arm, you ignored him, its not like you were stripping off everything, you still had another tank top under.

"Yeah." Frankie cleared his throat, "That's...easier." His voice came out in that raspy tone of his that made your skin tingle. You couldn't keep your eyes off his hands as they carefully inserted the syringe into your arm. "Sorry." Frankie let out when he saw your skin lift up with gooseflesh.

"It's fine." You almost didn't hear your own words as they slipped past your lips. Your eyes tracing his face now that he was focused on cleaning up your arm and wrapping your arm with the gauze and medical tape. You smile to yourself when you realize his hat has survived the trip. His curls poked out from under his cap, his face had a coat of dirt. The cut on his own face was starting to scab and another angry red scratch was poking out near the collar of jacket. Without thinking you lift your left hand and trace the scratch, "You didn't patch up your..." Your voice trailed off when you realized his eyes were staring back up at you. His soft ministrations on your arm had stopped and you suddenly felt a flush of heat rush up to your face. What were you thinking? You can't just reach out an touch him! "S-Sorry!" you quickly stammer out and pull away from him.

"I-" Frankie's eyes won't leave your face, the heat of embarrassment must be obvious. "It's...It's alright." He finally lets out, in that raspy voice of his. At that point you don't even know if the heat you're sure is radiating through your skin is from embarrassment or from desire.

You don't know if your glad or annoyed at the throat clearing from one of the guys behind you. It manages to break the trance you had fallen into as you stared into Frankie's eyes. Had they always been that soft? Mentally shaking yourself you quickly begin pulling your arm into the sleeve of your shirt, now that Frankie has let go. You're so caught up in buttoning up your shirt you miss the way Pope wags his eyebrows at Frankie as he walks back towards them.

---- As night falls once more you start assessing the amount of days you’ve been on the mountain. The boat waiting for you had been waiting five days, if it was still waiting. Looking down from where you stood you can see a few lights twinkling within the reflection of the ocean.

“How late are we to catch the boat?” Santiago asks you as he meets you after dropping the last of the bags by the pile next to you.

“About five days.”

“Jesus, you think he’s still there?”

“I can’t see shit.” This time it was Will who replied instead of you, his binoculars dropping from his face. Standing up he continues, “We need to get one of us down there. Think one of you can make it? There and back?” he asks the team as you all look over towards the ocean.

“I’ll go” Benny pipes up before anyone else can say anything.

“Your spanish sucks, Benny.”

“I got it.” Benny says as he picks up his gun and checks his ammunition.

“You sure?” Pope asks. “Three?”

“Yeah.” Benny’s determination is evident on his face.

“You’re looking for the Hijo Prodigo” Santiago says as he hands Benny the map the team has been using.

With a nod Benny takes the map and begins walking.

“Benny, watch your six.” You call out after him.

He turns at the sound of your voice. You’ve been relatively quiet since the moment you and Frankie shared. “You watch yours.” He calls back, before continuing his trek down towards the ocean.

With a thud you finally let yourself sit on top of the bags at your feet. Wincing at the sting of the movement you pull the strap of your gun over your shoulder and make yourself comfortable. Benny will be a while might as well catch a bit of sleep, you’re most likely going to be reaching the ocean overnight.

With a huff you hear Santiago behind you, “Alright guess I’ll take first watch.”

You swear you haven’t been asleep more than an hour or two when you’re awoken to Frankie’s voice cutting through the silence.

“I’m going to say something. Are you listening?” His voice held that commanding tone that you knew never to interrupt.

“Yeah.” You hear Santiago reply. Wondering if you woke up halfway through a conversation or if it just started, you didn’t know if you should be listening too.

“We gotta get back on our game. Enough of this. It stops now. You understand?”

“Copy that.” Santiago replies dryly.

So it was a conversation between the two of them. Even so, you felt a bit scolded. It was your fault too that the team was down here. Deciding that Pope shouldn’t have to hold all the blame you pipe up with a, “Yes, Sir.”

Will lets out a soft laugh, and Frankie sighs out a “Good.” before falling silent.

The silence after is cut short by Will’s question, “How many people do you think you’ve killed?”

You furrow your brow, that’s not at all what you expected to hear from Will. It seems that neither did Frankie, because he asked, “What?” in a somewhat surprised tone.

“You heard me.”

“As many as I had to.” Frankie’s voice sounds rough.

“Why would you ever want to know that?” This time it was Pope who asked.

“Forty-three.” Was the unexpected response from Will.

“Jesus Christ!” both you and Frankie exclaim at the same time.

“Confirmed.”

“You keep count of everything, huh?” Pope responds.

“Yup.”

“How’s your sleep?” Frankie asks.

“I guess better than it should be.”

With that hollow answer you get up from where you had been sitting and make your way to Will. Despite everything you’ve seen and been through you can’t help your bleeding heart from making an appearance. Settling back down next to him you whisper. “I’ve got your six. Get some sleep.”

Will looks over at you trying to figure out if you were saying it to hurt him. Whatever he found in your expressive eyes made him lift his hand from his gun and tap your knee twice before returning it to his gun and closing his eyes.

"Seventy-nine." You whisper into the night, you were a good shot and an even better sniper. Remembering that number was going to keep you up tonight.

----

You heard him before you saw him. Gun pulled up and trained in his direction when he finally popped up behind a rock.

“Whoa, it's just me.” Benny made a show to put his hands up in surrender. With a grunt you push down your gun. You’d been on edge throughout your entire shift on watch.“You alright?”

After a brief nod to answer your question Benny debriefs, “The boat’s there. I gave him half the money. I hope he waits.” As he reaches you the others get up. “I didn’t go into town, but it looks like whoever is in charge there has a...kindergarten army that’s looking for us.” He rips off his pack and gun and lets them drop to the floor once he’s in the middle of the circle you had formed with the bags.

“How many of them?” Will asks.

“Two or three pros, 20 heavily armed teenagers.”

“What about the next town over?” Frankie’s voice cracks from disuse.

“It’s over a 100 miles to the south.” Pope replies.

“I’m sure they have every town covered anyway.” Will shakes his head.

“Must be what's left of Lorea’s guys.” You find your voice again, thinking out loud. “Or...It wasn’t just his money we stole.”

“So we go through them.” Pope says his hands on his hips as if saying that's that.

“Through them?”

“What, do you mean we just mow them all down?” Frankie’s tone hints that that is not at all what he would be doing.

“What's the alternative here?” Pope shrugs his hands still firmly set on his hips.

“I’m not prepared to wipe out every teenager in that town.” Will speaks up, “Just to get through with this cargo.” he gestures at the bags stacked around you.

“This cargo?” Santiago points at the bags. “What about that cargo?” he yells as he points towards Tom’s wrapped body. “Would you do it for him?” You knew that tone of voice. You knew where this was going, you tried shaking your head at him but he continued anyways, “Tom died for this money, and we’re not leaving this country without it!”

Benny snapped, “He didn’t die for that money, he died because of it!” Pope turned his back on the group, running his hand over his face and walking a few paces away. Benny turned to the rest of the group, “They are just kids, man. Can’t we just carry it out through the dark?”

“It’s over 100 bags, man. There's no way.” Will tells his brother.

“Let me talk to him.” You finally found your voice again.

Without waiting for them to answer you, you trudge up towards Pope. Stopping when you can reach out and place your hand on his elbow. “Benny says these are kids, Santi.”

With a few quick shakes of his head Pope looks at you, “I can’t believe...I can’t believe I let this happen.” he struggles to find his words.

“We did.” you remind him squeezing his elbow, “The team came down to support us because we asked them to.” You fight down the little voice inside your head that sets the blame of Tom’s death on you, this was about Santi not you, you can deal with your own guilt later. Right now you had to get the surviving members of the team out of here. You know you won’t be able to handle it if another one of them...

“Yeah… Yeah but I thought- I thought we could do this!”

“Yeah. We both did.” You look down at your shoes to blink away your emotions, “And we got what we deserved.” With a deep breath you force yourself to look up at him. “Santi, we did some awful shit down here when it was just you and I. But we kept telling ourselves it was okay because the end justified the means. Yet, here we are hauling our brother’s body out of the fucking mountains.” Your voice cracks at the mention of Tom. “Santi, we have to get everyone else out, we won’t be able to live with ourselves if we risk another life for this dirty money.” You give his elbow another squeeze when he doesn’t answer right away.

“Yeah...Yeah your right.” Pope looks at you for a second, and just as you start turning on your heel to rejoin the group he stops you. “Just in case…”

“No.”

“No, really.” This time he's the one squeezing your arm, letting you know he won’t let go until he says his piece, “He’s been in love with you for much longer than you have been with him.” You look at Pope with wide eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about but needing more information. Thankfully he keeps going, “Vanessa left before their one year anniversary, he wasn’t very forthcoming with why, just that she was gone. I know you hate my meddling when it comes to these things, but he’s still in love with you. Don’t let him get away this time.”

With that Pope turns and walks towards the others and you can hear him talking to the group again. But you're frozen in that position. Your hand was still in the air from when it was sitting on Pope’s elbow. A million questions were flying through your head, but most of all you were struck with the one thought that you had to get the fuck out of here before you could begin to ask any of those questions. Dropping your hand you turn to rejoin the group.

“We just have to get Tom home.” Will was saying when you joined them. Benny gave you an odd look, but you just shook your head at him as if your heart wasn’t just singing with hope, as Will finished with, “that’s all that matters.”

“How are we gonna do that?”

“We keep carrying him down.” You find your voice in time to contribute with the conversation at hand, even if your thoughts are chaos within your skull.

“I agree with Tweets.” Pope piped up, “We fill our day packs with...With whatever we can carry and that's it.”

“What do we do with the rest of it?” Benny asks once more.

------

“Put him down for a second.” You hear one of the boys say behind you when you put your fist up in the air. Your gun is pulled up in position. Due to the wound on your arm you’ve been point guard, your gun held steady in front of you, making sure to clear a path towards the ocean as the others carried Tom’s body behind you. Benny left the group about thirty minutes prior, to make sure the boat didn’t take off without the team, once the horizon began to turn pink with the rising sun.

You hear Frankie whisper your name in that raspy tone that made your tummy flip then, “What is it?” as he joins you with his gun also pulled up into position. You motion in the direction of the truck you noticed peeking out of the tall grass.

With a nod, he begins to creep forward. Your height helps hide you within the grass, one of your advantages as point guard, but Frankie was almost a head taller and when he stepped closer to the truck the lights turned on, momentarily blinding you, “Fuck!” you let out a curse as you crouch lower and grip your gun a bit tighter.

“Stop!”

“Manos Arriba!” [Hands up!]

“Wait, espera espera espera!” [Wait, wait, wait!] you hear Santiago’s voice towards the side of the truck, While you and Frankie had gone towards the front of the truck Pope had flanked behind it. Catching the teenager, with a rifle that looked too at home in his skinny arms, off guard. “Oye, Hermanito, ¡ten cuidado con esa arma! No me apunte.” [Hey, man. Careful with that gun, don’t point it at me!] Pope lowered his pistol as he began to talk to the kid.

Your finger on the trigger is twitching at the way the kid is gripping the rifle. Any other day you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same as Pope, but you’ve lost too much already, your heart feels like it might fall out of your butt any minute, and you keep your scope on the kid in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye you see Frankie making his way towards the drivers side of the truck.

“I speak english!” The kid yells, “What’s in the bag? What is that?” he gestures towards Tom’s body with his gun.

“That’s our friend” Will’s voice is just a bit to your left. Your focus is still on the gun the kid keeps failing about in the air. “He’s dead.”

“I call Boss” The kid says, you can see the fear in his eyes as the team continues to take small steps closer to him.

“No, No, ¡No hagas eso!” [Don’t do that!] You yell out at the kid, aiming the scope on your gun towards the kid’s leg. The kid looks in your direction, it seems your voice took him by surprise, not expecting a woman behind the automatic weapon that was trained on him. “Contigo no tenemos ningún problema. Right guys?” [I have no problem with you.]

“No problem.” Will answers, as Pope gets closer his open palms facing the kid, too close for your comfort. Your finger leaving the trigger guard and getting dangerously close to the trigger once more.

“I’m taking the shot.” You hear the words leave you, but you’ve closed off the part of you that would have done what Pope is doing. The instinct to survive taking over. Frankie looks at you from his position to your right and gives you a miniscule nod.

“NO!” Pope shouts one of his palms facing you this time. “No, don’t do that!”

You let out a frustrated groan, your finger lightly squeezing your trigger, not enough to release a bullet, but you know if the kid makes one abrupt movement he’ll drop. Thankfully you don’t have to. With a swift push, Pope knocks the gun out of the kid’s hand. However you were so focused on the gun that you didn’t notice the finger the kid was pushing down on the walkie until he shouted, “Habla 16! 16 necesito ayuda!” [This is 16, I need backup!] as the force of Pope’s push made him hit the ground.

“Pendejo!” [Asshole!] You growl out at the kid, as Pope pulls him up to his feet and pins him down against the hood of the truck.

“¿Dónde están las llaves?” [Where are the keys?] Frankie grunts out as he lowers his gun and begins to rifle through the cab of the truck.

“No se, me dejaron solamente con el coche y el radio.” [I don’t know, they just left me with the truck and the radio!] The kid struggles to breathe as Pope keeps his arm around the kid’s throat.

“FUCK!” You hear Frankie’s frustrated yell inside the cab.

“Seguro?” [You sure?] Pope asks the kid as he and William begin to zip tie the kid’s hands and feet together.

“16, 16 estás ahí?” [16, 16 are you there?] The walkie on the floor lets out.

With a huff you kick the radio into the grass and walk over to Tom’s body hauling his torso up you begin dragging him closer to the truck. Feeling the weight lift considerably once Will reaches you and helps you haul him into the bed of the truck. Just as Frankie managed to get the engine running.

“Yes! Fuck Yes!’ Pope slaps his hands against the hood of the car, as you jump into the flatbed and take a position behind Frankie. “Lets move lets get outta here!” Pope shouts at no one in particular seeing as he was the only one, other than the kid, not in the truck.

“Shit his radio!” You tell the guys realizing your mistake you jump out of the flatbed and retrieve the radio, from where it was in the grass.

“Un consejo,” [A piece of advice.] Santiago's voice drifts up from where you grab the radio, “Alejate de esos hombres.” [Get away from those men.]

“Did you just give the kid money?” You ask him, almost angry that Pope was being so reckless when you’re in hot water.

“Let’s move!” Frankie’s voice cuts through the tension between you and Pope, “Vamos! Los dos!” [Go, both of you.]

Rushing back to the truck you hop back into position behind Frankie and Pope takes the seat next to him as the truck jerks into gear. You grab onto the bar above you as the unforgiving dunes force you and Will to bounce within the back.

“Did you just give that fucking kid money?” Frankie berates Pope as soon as the truck you're in begins moving towards the ocean with more speed. “We should have killed the kid the minute he saw our faces.”

“We are not killing anymore people!”

“I’m telling you right now if we get to that beach and Ben isn’t there. I’m fucking killing people!”

“He’ll be there, alright!” Will cuts off the arguing that is going on within the cab of the truck.

“Fuck!” You yell out as a truck collides with the one your in.

“Tweets! The fuck you waiting for!” You hear Frankie yell at you when he pulls the truck back into a straight line.

You answer him with a squeeze of your trigger, your shots hitting their mark into the cab of the truck that was trying to collide with you again. “Drive, Fish!” you spit out as the truck following you stops moving, and another comes towards you.

“¡Miren, nos pegaron! Cuidado se van para la playa!” [Look they hit us! They are headed towards the beach!] The voices coming from the radio you have clipped on your belt.

“Oh, shit!”

“GO, GO, GO!” Will’s shout competes with the sound of the gear shifting. “What are they saying?”

“More are coming.” You notice that he’s out of rounds, handing him the pistol you have strapped to your thigh Will takes it and aims at the new jeep that spun around and began to chase you. “There’s two vehicles!” You shout behind you into the cabin as you train your gun at the one gaining on your right. Will was shooting at the one to your left.

“Alright, it should open up onto the beach any minute.” Pope says as he flashes a light on the map.

“Tweets, Shoot!” Frankie yells as you see the truck full of kids gaining on you. “Shoot the driver! I know you can! Take the fucking shot!”

With a deep breath you squeeze your trigger once more, but this time you're aiming at the front tire, deciding Pope is right. After looking at those kids, you know you won’t be able to sleep for a while if you mow them all down.

“Despacio que nos están disparando!” [Slow down they are shooting at us!] The voices on the radio keep shouting orders to the trucks behind you, urging them to slow down, but keep you within sight. “Quedense atras!” [Fall back!] Fruitless really, you hit your mark and watch as one of them spins out into the grass the second vehicle stopping.

“Nice!” Will gives you a grin when he realizes that it was your shot that spun out the truck.

“Eyes up!” Two more trucks meet you. However, these two begin shooting at you and before you can reciprocate fire, Frankie starts swerving through the grass to avoid being hit.

“Where are they?”

“Left! Left!”

Just as Will’s shout makes you turn your body, you feel the impact of the truck as Frankie slams into its side. Without taking proper aim you let out a few shots and watch as the truck flips over and a burst of fire lifts from the cab.

“Watch out!” Pope shouts as the other truck begins raining fire in your direction.

“All right here’s the beach!” Will’s deep voice reaches your ears, a small bud of hope blossoms in your chest. We just need to get to the beach.

“Where is he? Do you see him?” You shout your heart thumping hard against your chest as you keep your gun trained on the truck that has fallen a bit behind you.

“No, but the cove where we have to meet him is about a mile up this beach!” Pope yells.

You’re panicking once more, a mile? The truck that was behind you disappeared when it swerved behind a dune. Leaving you and Will searching the beach. The sound of an engine revving makes you point your gun at a dune to your left and you see the truck pop up closer to you than you expected. A woman in the back gave you an awful smile before shooting at you with a small handgun.

“Fuck!” You squeeze your trigger but your shots miss as Frankie swerves once more, her shots dangerously close to your head.

“Tweets! Kill them! Just kill them!” Frankie’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts of a close call, determined not to add to your numbers, you to take careful aim of the tires once more. They are just kids, you remind yourself even though those last few shots could have been fatal had Fish not swerved.

Will shouts “There he is!” somewhere to your left, but you’re focused on your targets. First you hit the tire on the driver’s side of the truck and then you hit the exposed radiator. Making the truck come to a complete stop. With a sigh you twist around and look over towards the beach where you see Benny waving from a small boat.

“Over the dune!” Pope shouts, as the truck catches air and Frankie drives it into the water. The water quickly fills up the cabin as Fish and Pope jump out. You shove your gun down as you begin to wade through the water and help Will with Tom’s body.

“Here.” Frankie’s rough voice reaches your ears as you swim towards him. He helps you haul Tom’s body onto the boat, and then gives you a push as you throw one leg over the side and pull yourself up as well.

You still hear the gunshots the teenagers are shooting, but Frankie had pulled you under him as the boat sped away, shielding you from harm with his own body.

"Cat" You mumble against his arm, "Fish its okay." You try again when his arms won't release you.

"Right. Sorry." He straightens out, he was about to scoot a bit away from you on the small bench when you grab on to his hand and give it a tug. Without thinking too much about it because you know that if you did you'll chicken out, you reach up with your other hand and pull him back.

"Tweets-" You don't really know what he was about to say because with help from the bumpy waves you're propelled forward and your lips bang against his.

Before you could pull away and apologize for the horribly aimed kiss, Frankie has wrapped both arms around you once more, this time though he pulled you on to his lap. One of his arms, wound tight around your waist held you firmly on his lap, while the other snaked up your back allowing his hand to hold the back of your head to tangle his fingers in your hair. His lips were surprisingly soft, with a slow drag of his tongue against your lower lip you opened your own and let him explore you in a way you had fantasied about for years. Distantly you could hear a muttered "Finally" and a whoop that let you know the guys had looked back and seen the two of you. But you were totally lost in the feel of Frankie's lips, the taste of salt as your tongues tasted each other.

When you finally broke the kiss to breathe, Frankie spoke, "I've waited years for this." His panting breaths tickling your lips, the hand on your neck keeping you close enough that your lips are still brushing against each other, "If you'd have me, I'm yours."

Taking in a gulp of air you brush your lips against his, "And I'm yours."

----

You stared up at the colorful buildings surrounding you as you waited outside of the bank with Will, Benny and Frankie. Your hand is wrapped around Frankie's hands his arms wrapped around you as his chin rests on the top of your head.

“Where to then?” Pope’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“We need to get home.” Will speaks for both himself and his brother.

“You’ll need these.” Pope hands them their passports. You don’t miss the way he holds on to yours and Frankie's as they pat him on the back and leave.

You look expectantly at him when he finally turns around and looks at you and Frankie. A smile breaks out on his face as he takes you both in, standing there like a pair of love sick fools.

“So, are you finally heading home?” Frankie’s question is directed at Pope.

“I...I have a friend in Sydney.” That makes you break out into a smile. You didn't think Pope was really going to find her, not after everything.

“Heard she just came into some money.” You wink at him.

“Yeah, I heard the same rumor.” He reaches out and gives Frankie both your passports but doesn't let them go once Frankie has a grip on them, “Ahora te toca cuidarla.”[It's your turn to take care of her.]

Frankie gives Pope a smile, his eyes crinkling, “Creo que ella me cuidara a mi.” [I think she'll be the one taking care of me]

You feel the way Frankie's arms squeeze you just a bit tighter. As Pope meets your eyes, "Acuerdate lo que te dije." [remember what I told you.]

"Oh, I'm not about to let him get away this time." You say as you give Frankie's arms a slight squeeze, letting him know to let you go so you can give Pope a parting hug.

“Have fun getting home you two.” Pope says over your head as you pull away from his hug and Frankie reaches over to give him one as well.

“Wait ¡No te vayas tan rápido!” [Not so fast!] You place a hand on his arm to stop hims from leaving as you dig through the bag that's slung over your shoulder, with the other. “Tell Yovanna que le mando saludos.” [I say hi] You slip a piece of paper with coordinates into his palm as you quickly push yourself up on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “And thank you, Santi, for everything.” With one last smile, you pull away from him and pull Frankie along with you as you both disappear into the crowded street away from Pope.

“So dinner?” You ask the man you adore.

“Yeah. Yeah dinner sounds good.” Frankie gives you a lopsided grin as you take both your passports from his hand and shove them into your bag.

"Although, I don't mind a few more hours in that hotel room." Frankie's low and raspy voice reaches your ear, his lips brushing it slightly. Your entire body responds to his voice. The sensation of his lips against your skin have you heating up.

"Francisco!" You gasp in mock shock, "How fast do you think we can get there?"

#frankie morales x reader #latina!reader #triple frontier #Idk what this is guys #I've never shared my writing here so pls be nice to me #my writing #dee writes #Running

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Somebody to You

Summary: Nothing like a roadtrip to a wedding to make Zyla feel extra sappy about her own husband.

A/N: Sort of in collab with @baldcalum @cxddlyash and @talkfastromance4. Thanks for letting me pester you with questions/bounce ideas off of you!

Content: All the soft.

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

“My mother warned me about stranger danger, but she never warned me about what to do when the man with the van is your husband,” I joked as I carefully hung up the garment bags in the empty back.

“You could’ve flown with them,” Ashton told me as he started to load up everything we needed. “I drew the short straw, not you.”

I leaned against the van, admiring how his muscles flexed with his movements. God, the fact that this man was my husband still totally blew my mind nearly a year after the fact. “You didn’t draw the short straw. You offered. And we’re a team now, in case you forgot.”

“How could I ever forget the best day of my life?”

I laughed. A sassy retort was on my lips but my phone rang cutting me off. “Hey, Kai,” I answered, barely needing to glance at the caller ID to know who it was.

“Have you talked with everyone about their flight?” her panicked voice asked.

“Yes,” I spoke into the phone. “Their flight leaves later. They’ll get there probably at the same time Ashton and I do.”

“And are you leaving soon?” Kai asked and I could hear the clicking of my friend’s heels as she paced back and forth.

“Yes,” I assured her. “And take a breath. Relax. We’ll probably beat the GPS. You know Ash drives like a madman.”

“I do not,” Ashton piped up at the same time Kai groaned, “If he gets you both killed on the drive out here, I will bring you back from the dead to kill you both myself!”

“So, I get to die twice for something I didn’t do? That hardly seems fair…”

“You married him!”

“Damn right I did,” I smirked before I used my free hand to smack at my husband’s ass as he loaded the last bit of our things into the van for the trip.

“Hey!” Ashton yelped in surprise before turning towards me, his hazel eyes dancing, a seductive smirk beginning to grace his lips, and his dimple making its debut. “I’m supposed to do that to you.”

I snapped my teeth playfully at the man. “Alright, we’re about to hit the road. I’ll keep you updated on where we are, okay?” I told Kai, doing what I could to calm her overworking mind. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” I asked Ashton.

“No!” both him and Kai answered way too quickly.

“Cuss out a guy one time and they never let you live it down,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Just hurry,” Kai whined. “But not fast. Just regular speed, ASHTON!”

“Yes, Mrs. Hood!” Ashton answered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice so the woman on the other end of the phone could hear him.

“He’s lucky he’s married to my best friend otherwise I would have killed him already…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with an eye roll. How such a low-strung woman as myself was best friend’s with a high-strung type like Kai was beyond me sometimes. I supposed it really was about balance. “Just take a few deep breaths. Set that future husband of yours to good use. And I’ll be there before you know it.”

“And Britt and Holly!” Kai added with a sense of urgency.

“Shit, did I remind Mikey to confirm the rooms?” I wondered out loud with a playful tone.

“Zy!”

I laughed, “Would you relax? I was teasing!” Then, I mouthed at Ashton in case I had actually forgotten for him to “Text Mikey about the rooms!”

“I hate you…”

“No you don’t,” I chirped.

“Kai, if you don’t let my wife off the phone, we’re going to be late!” Ashton said as he quickly typed on his phone.

“She can talk on the phone while you drive!”

“Not if you want us to live!”

I rolled my eyes more. “I’ll text you from the road. And you,” I said, turning my attention from my phone to Ashton. “Did you poop?”

“Did I po- Fuck. Be right back.”

“You seriously need to stop drinking an entire pot of coffee by yourself…”

“Well if someone drank it with me…”

“Just make less! It’s not that hard!”

“You leave me and my coffee addiction alone!”

“Go poop!”

~~~

“That’ll be five dollars,” the bartender told me.

“For a water?” I asked incredulously, pulling out my wallet anyway. “This is why I don’t go out…” I continued to grumble as I started to hand my card over. Whatever Kai had planned that required me to be in a dress and heels instead of on my couch in sweats and an oversized shirt had better be good. Where the hell was she anyway?

“Put it on my tab. I got it, sweetheart,” a deep and smooth voice from behind me said before a large hand was pulling mine away from paying.

“I can buy my own water, but thank you,” I answered, turning to eye the friendly stranger. And I immediately had to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. His brown hair was perfectly slicked back except for this one stubborn piece that curled between a stunning set of honey gold eyes. A leather jacket hugged his strong shoulders and the buttons on his shirt were undone to a dangerously low level. I struggled to keep my eyes from traveling further down his body, turning my attention to the hand that was now extended to me in greeting. I shook it, noting the damage to his fingers. A drummer if I had to guess. Fuck. I loved drummers.

“Oh I’m not doubting that. But anyone who buys water at a club immediately has my respect. I’m Ashton by the way,” he was saying when I finally refocused.

“Zyla,” I introduced, giving him my award-winning smile.

“I believe this is yours, Zyla,” Ashton said, handing me the water bottle, and I had to hold back the school-girl like giggle bubbling up in my throat at the way my name sounded rolling off his lips and the way his fingers brushed against my hand.

~~~

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ashton’s voice asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Thinking about how we met actually,” I answered honestly, smiling softly at him.

“You looked hot that night,” Ashton recalled, taking one hand off the steering wheel to interlace his fingers with mine.

I laughed, my cheeks turning red. “I was not.”

Ashton scoffed as he raised his hand that was holding mine to brush his lips against my knuckles. “The hottest.”

“Hotter than our wedding day?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes.”

I scoffed and swatted his chest. “Wrong answer, Ash.”

“You didn’t let me finish!” he giggled. “You were fucking stunning on our wedding day.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

“Any regrets?”

“With you? Never. You know why?” I asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“All I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!” I sang along with the music blasting lightly through the speakers.

“Everybody’s tryin’ to be a billionaire! But every time I look at you I just don’t care!” he joined in.

“Cause all I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!”

~~~

“So what’s your connection to the music industry?” Ashton asked, his attention fully on me.

“Oh, I’m this one’s photographer,” I answered, wrapping my arm around Kai’s shoulders. This was their conversation. Their collaboration meeting. What the fuck was Kai thinking inviting me out? Something in the way Ashton kept trying to get me involved in the conversation made me think I had my answer.

“Oh, she’s fuckin’ fantastic. Top of her game,” Kai bragged, and I knew I had my answer.

“I’m alright,” I shrugged. “It’s just about passion.”

“Oh, modest are we? Mind if I look at your work sometime? See who’s assessment is more correct?” Ashton inquired.

“That sounds suspiciously like you’re asking me on a date, sir,” I told him, leaning forward across the table. If he was baiting, I was biting. I’d be a damn fool not to. And Kai knew it, the fucking sneak she was. I made a mental note to both thank and throttle her for this later.

“And if I was?” he asked, leaning forward himself so our faces were inches apart.

~~~

“Yes, they got on the flight.”

“And Ash has the instruments?”

“Yes, we have everything.”

“You remembered his suit and your dress? And your heels? I swear if you wear flats… or gods forbid… sne-snea- Ugh! I can’t even say the word!”

I rolled my eyes at her antics. Since when was comfort a crime? “Yes, Kai. I remembered it all. Relax.”

“Wait! How are you going to take the pictures if you’re in them?! You’ve always taken my pictures! Oh my, God!”

“You know I have a team, right? Like I run a business. I have employees.”

“But they’re not you!”

“I don’t hire amateurs, Kai. And you will get final say before anything goes to print. Now, breathe!” I left out the part that of course I had brought my own camera equipment for the spur of the moment inspiration, because she knew I never traveled without my gear.

“How far have you guys gotten?”

“Halfway give or take.”

“It’s a 6 hour drive, and you left at 8 this morning. It’s almost 1!”

“Well, we can’t just drive for 6 hours straight. We gotta stop for food and pee breaks.”

“You mean coffee and poop breaks?”

“Same thing,” I laughed as Ashton walked out of the gas station with two bottles of water and a huge bag of Cheez-Its. I let out an excited gasp as I reached for the bag. “Yes! I love you!” I cheered.

“I love you too. Now hurry up!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Kai. But yes. We’ll be there soon. If someone can stop pooping every fifty miles.”

“I wouldn’t have to drink so much coffee if someone helped me drink it. Or offered to drive…” Ashton teased.

“You wouldn’t let me drive,” I reminded him, opening the bag and swallowing a handful of cheesy cracker goodness.

“That's because you get mad road rage, miss.”

“That’s ma’am to you, sir,” I laughed. “I’m a married woman.”

“Are you ever gonna get tired of saying that?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face.

“Fuck no!” I laughed more, reaching up on tiptoe to peck his lips with mine. “Husband, husband, husband.”

“Wife, wife, wife,” he replied, kissing me after each word.

~~~

“You ever think about getting married?” Ashton asked.

“Like in general? Or to you?” I asked, my senses perking into high alert mode.

“Both?”

I shrugged. “Little scary isn’t it? I mean, every relationship runs the risk of those involved waking up one day and suddenly this isn’t what they want anymore. So to divorce in the midst of heartbreak… well… I guess it would depend on how I felt the person asking me to decide if that was a risk I was willing to take.”

“And if I asked?”

“I’d say call Andy and Ryan to make sure there’s photos and video of me saying yes.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice full of amazement and hope.

“Of all the things I want to be in life, yours is easily at the top of that list.”

~~~

“Fuck, this view is gorgeous,” I marveled as we leaned against the van.

“Yeah it is,” he smiled, his eyes on me.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I meant this view,” I said, gesturing out the window to the winter wonderland spread out before us. Kai may be over the top, but the girl had mad style, no question about it.

“I know what you meant,” he told me, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the side of my head. “And out of all the views I’ve seen and will go on to see, none of them matter if you’re not in them.”

~~~

“So, what’s the big secret?” Kai asked, once I had gathered all my girlfriends together.

I answered by sticking out my left hand, letting them decipher the news for themselves.

“Ohmigod!” Britt and Holly screeched in excitement. Britt grabbed my hand to get a closer look while Holly jumped in circles starting rattling off wedding ideas.

I looked at Kai who stared back with a blank expression. “Well?” I prompted.

“I thought you hated the idea of marriage,” was the response, void of any real emotion except genuine confusion. Of all our differences, that had been our one similarity- besides a love of pretzels and an aversion to drinking. While we weren’t necessarily anti-romance, marriage just wasn’t something that had been on our radars. And now for me to be engaged before Britt or Holly, well, it was definitely a shock to the system. I still couldn’t quite believe it myself. The weight on my finger was both surreal and not the least bit heavy.

“I do! I did… I… I dunno.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Duh!”

“Do you make him happy?”

“I would hope so.”

“Does he love you?”

“Again, I certainly hope so.”

“Do you love him?”

“So fuckin much.”

“Am I maid of honor?”

“Please?”

“Congrats, Zy,” Kai smiled.

~~~

“Kai Theodora Zaher,” Calum spoke, pausing to clear away the thickness in his throat. “You were perfect from the first moment I met you. More than perfect. And while I would never ask you to change anything about you, one thing has always bothered me. Your last name not being mine. Thank you, not only for turning my world on its head, but allowing me to make you Kai Theodora Zaher Hood. I love you, wildflower.”

Kai’s hand gripped my fingers tightly as she held back the squeak and the rest of us choked down our tears. Funny how cynics usually had the softest hearts.

I looked over at Ashton who stood directly across from me besides Calum. If I was closer, the heels on my feet would bring me to the perfect height for me to tuck my head under his chin without me needing to strain up or him needing to slump down. He looked so good in his suit with his hair slicked back for the occasion. And I knew I looked like a bombshell in my own floor-length gown that hugged my small curves in the most perfect of ways. Kai had really outdone herself with this winter wonderland she had created. Every detail no matter how small was absolutely perfect. Ashton’s eyes met mine and his lips moved to mouth “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I mouthed back, before letting my mind take me back only earlier this year when it had been him and I in Calum and Kai’s places and them in ours.

~~~

“I promise to always buy you overpriced bottles of water.”

“I promise to chase the risk that is my life with you.”

“I promise to make that risk worth it.”

“I promise to always be your somebody.”

~~~

“This year has definitely been one for the books, hasn’t it, Kai? See, I dunno if you all know this, but it’s always been Kai and I. Kai and Zy. Zy and Kai. The opposites glued at the hips. Never one without the other,” I paused to squeeze my best friend’s shoulder before I went on with my speech. “All my years with her have been filled with their adventures. But this year? Well, this year started with a wedding. And it’s befitting it ends with one too. Because, you see, Kai and I, for getting married first,” I paused again to smirk over at Luke and Mike who squirmed in their seats under my gaze, “never really bought into the marriage idea. Romance, sure. But marriage was always too messy. And then! Oh, boy, and then these two came right out of left field and messed that right up.” I moved my hand that was squeezing Kai’s shoulder to rest on Calum’s. “Calum, my dear sweet friend, thank you for proving to my best friend what your best friend proved to me. Because while I may not believe in marriage, I believe in mine, and I believe in yours. Best years to you both. I love you.”

I kissed both of their cheeks before handing the microphone to Ashton as he held my chair out for me to take my seat. “Well,” Ashton spoke around the lump in his throat, taking a small moment to clear it. “You’d think that my days as a musician would have prepared me for the opening act completely outdoing the headliner…”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he grinned at me.

“If someone had asked me that the first wedding I give a best man speech at would be Calum’s, I probably would have laughed. That’s how wild this all is. Kai, thank you for flipping his world upside down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier than when he’s with you. And we all know how much he loves his bass, so mad props to you, darling. Cal? Don’t fuck this up, mate.”

~~~

“Good morning, Mrs. Irwin!” Ashton said brightly, waking me up with the kisses he was covering my body with. “How do you feel, Mrs. Irwin?” he grinned when his lips found mine.

“Like I’m on top of the world,” I grinned back.

“Adjusting to that weight on your finger okay?”

“Feels surprisingly light. Like I always meant to wear it.”

“Mmm, that’s probably cuz you were.”

“You really think that? That I was always meant to be your wife?”

“I think you were always meant to be the greatest somebody to me. I just got lucky that somebody was my wife.”

“You’re such a sap,” I laughed, feeling myself tear up at his sentiment.

“Your sap.”

“My sap.”

~~~

“What is it about weddings that makes me want to get married?” Ashton asked as he twirled me in a circle before pulling me against his chest.

“We’re already married,” I pointed out.

“And I want to marry you every day for the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll marry you every time.”

Tag List

@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @kikixfandoms

#somebody to you #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #5sos #galcal irwin

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