#we dropped contact with that family a few months later and uh yeah i still have the book

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

i know that whenever im like "im gonna commit crimes" i add "for legal reasons this is A Joke" but like.... my favourite book that i have is stolen :)

[soulmate-game]

Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

[arrowflier]

I absolutely loved your last ficlet, the one inspired by Take Me to Church (well, I love EVERYTHING you write), so I'm here with a thought that maybe you can turn into something:

What if, for some reason, Mickey has to speak in Ukrainian (your pick why, maybe directions to tourists or a phone call with a distant relative) and Ian witnesses it and just goes: 😳🤯🤤🥵😍, followed by "can you do that again when we're in bed"?

Thank you anon! Disclaimer that I do not know Ukrainian, so if google led me astray I apologize.

That Foreign Tongue

They were out in the rig, on their way to a pickup, when Mickey got a call.

He fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone, frowned at it in consternation as it blared.

“Who the fuck?” he mumbled to himself, then swiped to decline.

Ian looked over as he pulled to the curb outside their destination, curious.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know,” was all he got in answer. “Not a fuckin’ Chicago number, that’s for sure. Not New York, either,” he added before Ian can check. Mandy wasn’t great at staying in contact, but they knew to answer if it looked like it could be her.

Ian shrugged, and reached back to grab the cash bag from behind Mickey’s seat.

“Sure it wasn’t Mexico or something?” he prodded with a forced casualness, and Mickey rolled his eyes as he shoved open the door to get out.

He met Ian around the front of the ambulance, and promptly poked him in the chest, hard.

“What was that for?” Ian asked, wounded, and Mickey clicked his tongue.

“For still fuckin’ fishin’ about that,” he told his husband. “It’s been two fucking years, let it go already.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ian huffed. “Sorry for wanting to know more about what you did down there that has people calling in the middle of the—”

“That was one time!” Mickey exclaimed, arms going wide. “One fucking time, and I told you what it was about! Roberto needed me to check on his damn kid, it had nothing to do with—”

“Well how was I supposed to know that,” Ian interrupted loudly, “when you were speaking a whole different language?”

“Oh, for the love of…” Mickey trailed off as he stormed away from Ian down the sidewalk.

He wasn’t really mad. They did this song and dance around once a month, still, ever since one of his old contacts had found him and called him up. It stuck in Ian’s craw that Mickey had had people down there, without him, even though, as he explained to him once, he was glad about it at the same time. They both knew it didn’t really matter—sometimes it just needed to come out.

Sure enough, Ian caught up with him after only a few strides, falling in beside him naturally. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but otherwise there was no indication of their brief argument.

Mickey gave him two minutes before he tried to smooth it over.

Ian didn’t last one.

“You know,” his husband started, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “I’m just making sure none of those foreigners come up here and take what’s mine.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah?” he prompted. “Think they’re coming for our jobs and our husbands, now?”

Ian’s lips lifted in a grin, their banter back on track the way they liked it.

“I mean,” he said, “I can’t really blame them.” He grabbed Mickey by the arm and brought them both to a stop right outside their drop, tugging him close enough for their boots to kick together on the pavement.

“A hot, red-blooded American man like yourself,” Ian murmured, getting his arms around Mickey’s waist. “You’re quite the catch, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed, leaning up to bring their faces closer. “That right, Mr. Milkovich?”

He was just about to follow it up with a good old-fashioned make-up kiss, when his phone blared again from his pocket.

“Damn it,” he hissed as he thumped his heels back down and dug it out again. This time, he answered it immediately.

“Whoever the fuck you are,” he shouted into it, “you’re interruptin’ something here.”

An unfamiliar voice came down the line, barely audible to Ian where he still stood close but with a clearly chastising tone, and the fight went out of Mickey in an instant.

“Prīvіt,” Mickey muttered, looking almost bashful, and Ian did a double-take. That wasn’t English, or Spanish…he had to try and listen in on a third language, now? When did Mickey even find the time to learn this shit?

Ian watched silently as Mickey listened to whoever was on the line. His husband had folded into himself, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and his elbow with the other, casting a quick glance up at Ian before turning his attention away again.

“Shcho novogo?” he asked into the phone, and then a brilliant smile crossed his face a moment later. “Dobre, dobre,” he said, then “vitayu”.

It sounded like the caller asked him a question, next, but Ian couldn’t hear what Mickey answered, his husband lowering his voice and turning his back. Ian tried not to let himself feel hurt at the sudden shut-out.

A moment later, the call was over with a quiet “do pobachenn'a”, and Mickey faced him again.

Ian wanted to ask, but he waited instead, hoping Mickey would explain. Thankfully, he did.

“So, uh,” he started off nervously. “That was my…like, my great-aunt or something?”

Ian could feel his eyebrows rising. “You have family you still talk to?” he asked, and Mickey shook his head immediately.

“Nah, not really,” he admitted. “But this one, she’s back in Ukraine still, guess she calls around sometimes to check on me and Mandy.” He looked down at the dark screen of his phone, lips twisted. “Been a couple years,” he added. “Didn’t think she had the new number, but uh. Guess one of my cousins just had a kid or somethin', so she wanted to catch up.”

Family was a touchy subject, Ian knew. So he went for the next obvious question instead.

“Ukraine? That mean you speak Ukrainian?”

Mickey just looked at him. “No, Ian,” he offered dryly, “I just thought I’d make some weird sounds and see if she could read my mind from across the fuckin’ ocean.” Ian didn’t respond, so he tacked on, “Yes, I speak Ukrainian. Sort of.” He rubbed his nose, looked away and back. “That gonna be a problem for you?”

It was a fair enough question. But this wasn’t like the Spanish, which was never really the problem anyway. It wasn’t a reminder of time they spent apart, or things he didn’t now. It was just Mickey. And Mickey's voice, and the way it rolled over those unfamiliar phrases so cleanly, so...attractively.

“Not at all,” Ian clarified quickly. Too quickly, maybe, because Mickey’s cautious look gave way to a slow smile.

“Oh, really?” Mickey said, apparently delighted. He grinned even wider when Ian felt his face flush. So his husband sounded hot in other languages, fucking sue him.

“Better watch out, man," Mickey warned. "I hear foreigners like me are out huntin’ down men like you nowadays.”

Ian cleared his throat, and closed the distance between them again. “And that’s a problem how?” he asked.

“Didn’t say it was, miy cholovik,” Mickey murmured lowly, raising a hand to grip at Ian’s hair once he was close enough. Ian’s breath caught at the soft look on his eyes that accompanied the foreign words.

“What does that mean?”

Mickey pressed their lips together once, twice, before pulling back just enough to answer.

“Nothing bad, moye sontse,” he breathed, and Ian shuddered.

“We have a job to do,” he reminded Mickey weakly, like he hadn’t been the one to start this. “You keep saying that weird shit, we’re gonna have to cancel all our pickups today.”

“You better make some calls then, miy kokhanets,” Mickey chuckled against his lips. “But first…”

He pushed Ian back into a convenient alley right next to their original destination, shoving until they hit the rough brick wall. Ian didn’t protest as Mickey started to tug at his camo jacket, getting the zipper down far enough to mouth at Ian’s neck.

“Ya tebe kokhayu, Ian” Mickey muttered against his skin, pressing tighter as Ian clutched at his back. “Let me show you how much.”

--

Hours later, at home, Ian asked Mickey what else his aunt had said.

"Oh, not much," Mickey answered, snuggling closer. "Wanted to see if we could catch a flight sometime, go visit the old country, that kind of thing."

"Is that something you'd want to do?" he prodded, and Mickey shrugged, shoulders moving against Ian's chest.

"I guess," he said, unconvincingly disinterested. "I'd have to teach you the language, though, none of my mom's folks speak English."

Ian's brain ground to a halt. If the day had been any indication, he wasn't sure he could survive language lessons with his husband.

But never let it be said that Ian Gallagher backed down from a challenge.

"Sure," he agreed, and he was sure of one thing when he felt Mickey smile against his neck--it was going to be the best worst decision of his life.

--

According to my admittedly poor research, Mickey basically says hi, what's up, good, congrats, goodbye, then calls Ian my husband, my sun, my lover and says I love you. It's most likely all horribly butchered because I only speak English and a tiny bit of German, if you know Ukrainian I would happily take correction.

[heartbreakgrill]

Love Song; Corbyn Besson

description: yeah just some good ol’ friends to lovers 😋

Your face clenched up as the nurse swabbed your nose. The urge to sneeze came over when she tugged it out, and you quickly pulled up your mask. After a round of watery eyes and the oddest facial expression, the sneeze subsided.

“Thank you,” you told her, a laugh dancing at the edge of you tone.

Her eyes crinkled, showing the smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome. It’ll just be a minute.”

You stood from the chair, plopping down beside Zach on the couch. He was playing on his phone, but looked up when he noticed your presence.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He watched your hand rub at your nose over the mask.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled.

Zach went back to his phone and you unlocked your own, crossing a leg over the other. Soon, his name was called and he snapped off his mask. Negative.

Daniel replaced Zach in the seat beside you. You bid him hello and he said, “Hey. How are you today?”

“Was doing fine before I had to have a stick in my nose,” you giggled.

Daniel laughed as well. “Yeah, but whatever we have to do to get to celebrate.”

“New normal,” you nodded.

“Y/N!” The other nurse called out from her clipboard.

You flashed your eyebrows at Daniel and stood from the couch. Slipping your phone into your butt pocket, you walked over to the table.

“You are negative, my dear. We’re having everyone who has already been tested to stay in the kitchen.”

You took the packet of your information from the nurse, thanked them again, and joined Zach, Corbyn, and Christian in the kitchen. You slipped the pink mask in your jean jacket pocket as you took the empty bar stool next to Christian.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

Corbyn perked up at the sound of your voice, peaking up from his phone. He was directly across from you, leaning his chin against the ball of his palm. You glanced around at the boys, meeting his eyes over the top of his phone.

“Hey, Y/N, when did you get here?” Christian spoke, drawing your eyes away from Corbyn.

You cleared your throat and folded your hands in your lap. They were clammy now, budding heat throughout your face. His eyes.

“Like ten minutes ago. I said I was here in the group chat,” you reminded Christian.

He shrugged, “I don’t really pay attention.”

“Rip,” you laughed.

Zach and Christian went back to their conversation about the album, the only valid topic of interest for the night ahead.

You glanced back over at Corbyn, who had shifted so he could pretend like he hadn’t blushed at your presence. You sat there for a moment, contemplating saying anything at all. Ultimately you settled on tugging out your phone again.

You leaned on the counter, scrolling through people’s Instagram stories. You swiped past Why Don’t We’s shared page and fell on Corbyn’s. It was a selfie, one he took mere moments before you sat down. You flushed red, eyes gently lifting to take in how he looked right now.

His eyes.

You forced an awkward smile at the awkward eye contact, feeling...awkward.

You looked back down at your phone. It seems everyone of the boy’s friends and family members had posted about the album. Except you. You felt slightly guilty, voicing your concerns to the boys before you. Jonah and Daniel had since joined you guys in the kitchen, talking with Christian and Zach.

“No worries, Y/N. I mean, you’re here,” Jonah shrugged it off.

Zach added, “Yeah, but if you wanna post something go ahead.

“Why don’t we just take a selfie or something?” Daniel suggested, tipping his water bottle towards the phone in your hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really want you guys to get number 1 on the charts,” you grinned sheepishly.

Jack appeared beside you, slinging on arm around your shoulder. You noticed Corbyn shift again, gulping and eyeing Jack’s arm.

“Oh, we will, Y/N, we will,” he winked at you.

You laughed loudly at his expression. “I believe in you, Jack Avery.”

He squeezed your shoulder. Everybody moved to stand around you, Corbyn ending up too far away. You tried to see where it was he was standing, just because you felt comfortable being able to see him, seeing you. But you couldn’t.

You were attempting to hold the phone out far enough to get everyone in frame, but your arm wasn’t long enough. Everybody laughed at your struggle. Jonah took the phone from you and angled it at the group. He snapped the photo and everyone dispersed.

Jonah ended up in the seat across from you, Zach next to him where he had been. Daniel, Jack, and Christian decided to start pouring drinks, since it was nearing 11 pm. Corbyn stood there for a minute, contemplating running off the edge of the world.

He settled in the seat beside you which drew your attention from your phone. You had been captioning the Instagram post, struggling to come up with something interesting.

“Hey, Corbyn,” you weakly smiled.

He smiled. “Hey.” His voice made your knees weak.

You flashed the screen at him, pushing down the red blush willing itself to paint your face. “What do you think I should caption it?”

“I don’t know,” he let out a breathy laugh, “uh, maybe a joke. Like, track 4 was written about me.”

You shared a laugh with him, happy nothing felt stuffed of weird energy for even a mere few minutes of conversation.

“That would be really funny, but probably cause some drama. How about, like, ‘dibs on Love Song?’ Because I genuinely feel like that ones gonna be so good.”

Corbyn gulped, “I wrote that one with Daniel.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Then, I call it.”

Red cheeks all around.

You quickly posted it. Soon, the room was engulfed with music, the 3 singles the boys had released filling the air. There was a single camera on the band, standing around the kitchen island you had once been sitting at.

You stood to the side with Anna and Kay, a glass of champagne in your hand. You had since abandoned your Jean jacket, revealing the flowery, thin strapped corset that left your midrif out in the open. You felt really hot, be it because of the outfit, your sparse interactions with Corbyn, or the alcohol beginning to take hold of your bones.

See, there was something there with Corbyn, something nobody really even knew about. In fact, you didn’t even know if Corbyn himself remembered.

You had been good friends with the entire band since they moved to LA, attending concerts when you weren’t in school and hanging out constantly. Of course, as any pathetic pining story went, you’d been in love with Corbyn since you’d met him, but his heart had always belonged to Christina.

When you discovered they broke up, you felt elated for half a second. Then, he called you in tears.

“I know we’re not expectionally close, but I need somebody. The guys, they just don’t understand.l

Since that moment, you guys had been attached at the hip. Quarantine had been boring at first, terrifying, even. But, then you’d begun to spend every waking moment with Corbyn. You were the one who suggested he dye his hair black, had helped him do it. you’d gone with him when the tattoo shops opened again and helped him pick which one looked best. You’d helped them move into their new house, helped Corbyn decorate his new space. Hell, you’d even suggested a song lyric or two when laying on Corbyn’s bed, listening to him across the room on his guitar.

And then, on your birthday a few months ago, you had gotten exceptionally drunk to drown the sorrows of lusting after your best friend. When the clock struck midnight, Corbyn had already hauled down a taxi from the bar, slung your arm around his neck, cradling your waist as he tried to get you inside.

Out of nowhere, the sky began pouring buckets of rain. You fell against his chest, laughing hysterically at the ironically cliche moment. Corbyn somehow nuzzled his nose into your neck, giggling along with your drunken haze.

You pulled back gently, the closeness emitting a fierce confidence in your gut which enabled you to lean up and kiss him. He kissed you back, but when he remembered how drunk you were, he tugged away.

“I can’t do this,” he urged, but you mistook his respect for consent as rejection.

You mumbled, “But I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t remember for a few days after, what had happened that night. All you knew was you had woken up in Corbyn’s bed, his clothes on you, a headache in your head, and your dress soaking wet over the bathtub.

Then, a few days later, when you were perched on Corbyn’s bed, watching an episode of Big Mouth, he made a joke about how, “in love you are with,” him. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, and a memory pulled itself from your brain. You suddenly stood up, his arm dropping to the comforter since it had been around your shoulders.

You made some excuse about homework, though you both knew you had finished your finals the night prior. Since then, neither of you had really spoken at all.

You clenched the champagne glass between your fingers, turning them white from frustration. You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning towards Anna.

“Everything okay?” She glanced between your eyes, noticing the tears welled up there.

You sniffled and blinked the tears away. One dribbled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Anna’s bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful expression and she pulled you into a hug. You wanted to collapse into her, sobbing your way through the album’s release. But, you squeezed your face shut and grabbed the composure that was running away from you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tugged back and set your glass on the table beside you. You quickly strode to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.

You wiped under your eyes with a wet cloth, salvaging your eye makeup. Your eyes were still red, though, red and pupils blown up in a sad countenance.

There was a knock on the door and you tensed up. Daniel’s voice came from the other side of the door, soft and sweet.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

You already knew he had seen you crying on Anna, and probably watched you storm away as quietly as one could when they were this upset. You were taking him away from his night and that made you feel just horrible.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak.

Daniel gently opened the door. He didn’t try to hug you or tell it was going to be okay. Instead, he cradled your face in his head, pushing the hair back from your cheeks.

“I know. You don’t have to explain or try to push me away. I just know. All I can give is the fact that we wrote these songs about our lives. These songs are personal.”

You met his eyes, swimming in the undemanding answers he was laying in front of you. “What do you mean?”

He gave a warm smile, “Corbyn got really good at songwriting. Just listen.”

You hugged Daniel quickly before shutting off the light. He slung his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the kitchen. Everyone counted down for midnight and soon enough, the new songs were blasting through the kitchen.

You anticipated Love Song through the entirety of Be Myself, barely paying any attention to the song that you knew Daniel wrote exclusively by himself. Soon, Daniel’s voice was dancing through the speakers in an upbeat rhythm, singing the literal love song.

Right after, Corbyn’s voice came again.

“You came out of nowhere like a hurricane.”

You perked up, holding yourself together with your arms. Daniel caught your eyes and nodded firmly. Your eyes flickered across the room and met Corbyn‘s. He’d been watching you for a while, you settled. Though his band mates and friends were dancing around the kitchen, he was solemnly drinking his own champagne. His hair was damp from the bottle Jonah had cracked open at midnight.

“Pulled me in and kissed me in the rain. And I fell for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You found his eyes again, your face bright red. An overwhelming grin came over you. Corbyn smiled in response, a dry chuckle shaking his shoulders. He shook his head, finally relieved.

You set down your glass again, tapping Anna on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, k?”

She squeezed your shoulder again, still feeling sympathetic. You looked to Corbyn and nodded towards the back door.

You slipped outside, taking a seat on one of the pool chairs. It was dark outside, only the light from the kitchen washing through the glass sliding doors.

You heard the doors open and close again, looking up from your shoes. You stood up, breathing in deeply. Corbyn stopped in front of you, fingers squeezing each other.

You nervously smiled up at him. “So...” you ached, “so, um, I guess I really did call track 4.”

Corbyn laughed, his hands coming around to your back. He pushed you into his chest, yours going up around his neck.

“Yeah,” his face drew back, “and it was about you.”

You grinned, pursing your lips to try and push it down. But, you were tired of pushing it all down, so you let your lips widen before landing themselves on Corbyn’s.

“You could be the one, girl you’re driving me crazy.”

[remuscore]

Decisions, Decisions

I am hurting everyone around me with subtext and knowledge of what happens in the future for these two. But still enjoy cute baby Roman :)

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, implied child abuse, mention of infant death. It's pretty tame for the most part but send an ask if you need anything else added.

_____________

Remus focuses on breathing, keeping his chest from rising up and down too fast as to not disturb the tiny little thing in his arms. He leaned against his car, bouncing and struggling to get his mind to understand the events that had come to pass by him so fast.

Audri told him she was pregnant and was not going to be keeping the kid. Remus— the overwhelming stupid Remus― said he wanted it. She had agreed to carry the baby, but she refused to be a part of the kid’s life. No matter how much Remus begged that she at least keep in contact, she said she wanted nothing to do with them. Either of them. Which was unbelievably harsh, but Remus couldn't blame her. Because of him, she had had any unplanned pregnancy and had to take time off school because of it. She was a smart girl so this ruined her education for awhile.

And while Remus was getting everything from when he was a baby and getting everything all set up in his room, his parents had found out and were... less than happy. A big fight ended with a chunk of Remus’ hair ripped out of his head and his car filled with baby things. He didn’t even get a chance to grab his own stuff. Not even his backpack. He had to go to the last month of school in the same clothes and with nothing to do his work. Luckily enough, the locker room had rental clothes and a shower and his teachers let him use some extra materials they had. He didn't tell anyone what happened.

On the last few days of school, Remus had stared at the doors to the school early in the morning, wondering if he should still try taking the kid in. If he called up Audri and said he couldn’t, then she could find the kid a real family. Real parents that were stable enough to actually raise them right. Then, Remus would be allowed back home. He wouldn’t be close to dropping out next year. He would still have a chance to have a real life and be a real young adult and get to have kids at an acceptable age later when he had money and a place to live.

Something in him said no. He didn’t want to put any more worry on Audri. He decided he was going to pretend to still want to keep the kid, but then give them over to a person that could actually give them a good home. This was his fault anyways, might as well take the responsibility of making sure the baby is safe.

But standing here now, close to midnight with a very small and new born baby boy in his arms, staring at the hospital just a parking lot in front of him, Remus couldn’t make his legs move.

He was just so small.

“Nine pounds and six ounces,” Remus whispered. He didn’t know why he kept repeating what Audri had told him. He's been saying it like a mantra ever since she handed him over. “Nine pounds, six ounces, perfectly healthy and happy. Nine pounds, six ounces.”

Every breath felt so heavy and painful and he prayed that his― that the baby didn’t mind the fast beating of his heart. Why was this so terrifying? Remus has never been this scared before and it was all over a baby.

Whatever choice he made right now sealed the fate of his entire future. He was responsible for not only his life, but someone who couldn’t even lift their head yet. He has never been responsible for anything larger than a rat before in his life and that rat ended up dying because it went missing from it's cage and the feral cat that lived in their garage killed it. He shouldn’t be in charge of a baby.

“Fuck, what should I do?” Remus gasped. He pulled the baby closer to him, holding the back of his head and feeling the small patch of hair on his head. He was starting to panic and that was never good. Can babies read your vibes? Can the baby feel him panicking? “Fuck― fuck. What should I do?”

“Eli would know what to do,” Remus adjusted the baby so that they were chest to chest and his tiny head was on his shoulder. He squirmed and let out a few little whines as Remus slid down onto the wet asphalt under his tires. The bundle in his arms stopped squirming when Remus bounced him again. “Eli’s wife just got pregnant. He's been reading all these baby books and it's barely even a bump yet. I beat him to it.”

He laughed and leaned the baby away to look at him. He was practically falling asleep right here and now. His little pink lips covered in drool and his skin was starting to flake and dry up. His head was so big and fat that his little cheeks were acting like little pillows on his shoulders. He was just so incredibly tiny.

“You don’t even know who Eli is, you lucky shit,” Remus’ cheeks hurt from the smile that has yet to fall off his face. He just wanted to crush the baby’s tiny little head, he’s so fucking cute! “He’s my brother. Technically, anyways. Or maybe not anymore because my parents kicked me out. I might be disowned now. I could’ve had two brothers, you know. I think about that a lot actually. He was supposed to be my twin, but he had a lot of breathing problems and died about two months after being born. I wish he had stuck around. I could definitely use someone right now.”

The baby didn’t respond of course because he was just a baby. He didn’t understand a single thing going on. He didn’t know who Remus was or what he was saying or what was in store for him if Remus could just make a fucking decision. He was small and ignorant to everything for the next few years.

Remus didn’t expect how fast he would fall in love with this stupid little thing.

With that thought in mind, Remus held the baby in one arm and pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t glance back at the hospital as he opened the door to the passenger side and put him in his car seat. The little thing didn’t stir and continued sleeping calmly. Remus rushed to the driver’s side and buckled himself in. He turned on the engine and dialed the first number he could think of on his phone.

“Hey, Spencer, I know we haven’t talked in awhile, but long story short I need a place to stay because I was kicked out of my house for getting a girl pregnant—” Remus laughed at his friends response, wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he started driving to his apartment. “Yeah, I know, but I gotta son now so— his name?”

Remus grabbed the phone with his hand again and glanced over at the baby. Audri never gave him a name. She didn’t want anything to do with them, so of course she didn’t care about his name, but Remus didn’t really plan to take the kid back. The hospital or adopter people were going to handle that.

“Uh… Roman,” Remus smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, his name is Roman. Yeah, he was born just a few hours ago. June 4th.”

[word-scribbless]

Oh baby part 8

Wooo this one has been in the works for a while! Sorry for the delay life has been very busy! @leroyjethrogibbsgirl and I are very excited for this chapter and the next (this one had to be cut off because it was getting super long so part 9 will pick up right where this one leaves off). We also have a little extra thing in the works we’re excited about!

We’re also very excited about a new character introduced in this chapter!

Side note this chapter and the next deal with some PTSD and anxiety so if that’s a trigger just be warned.

Masterlist

————————

The 3 months after Jethro and the girls were reunited were not the easiest. Both Gibbs and his little girl were having nightmares and Y/N was trying her best to pretend she wasn’t having panic attacks every morning when Gibbs left.

While difficult, it was also a very snuggle and love filled 3 months. Their little family did anything the could together. They would snuggle every night before bed, spend days off together (like usual) but they didn’t take a single second for granted.

“Hey you” Y/N greeted.

“Morning” Gibbs smiled and kissed her while scooping Amelia up off the counter.

“Making breakfast together?” Y/N asked as she smiled at the stack of pancakes. “Pancakes on a weekday?” She questioned with a smile

“Yeah, we were up. Figured we’d spend our time making momma’s favorite.”

“Momma loves CAKES! Wiff chippies” Amelia shouted as she moved to hug her mom.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her little girl and her husband, but something in her gut told her the reason they’d been up was because they were woken up by their nightmares.

“Rough night?” Y/N whispered to Gibbs when Amelia was distracted.

“Mhm, easier for both of us to just get up.” He said and Y/N frowned.

“Please wake me up next time? She can nap and I only have 1 class this semester, you are our super hero you need sleep!”

“I know” he smiled “just needed some time with her.”

Y/N understood, and wished she would wake up when Gibbs had nightmares, because he’d never wake her up. However her own daily panic attacks took so much out of her, she slept like a rock.

“Just wish you’d let me be there for you too.”

“Ya need your sleep”

“I need to know that you’re okay.”

He just nodded and kissed her head. Truly none of them were okay, but Y/N and Gibbs knew that together they’d get there eventually.

It was quickly approaching Amelia’s 2nd birthday and they were all using that to distract them. It probably wasn’t the best idea but both Gibbs and Y/N knew if they focused on their little girl then they’d be alright.

PTSD however, doesn’t care that it’s a few days from your daughters birthday. The Gibbs family found that out one night when Y/N came home from dropping Amelia off so she and Jethro could get party supplies for the weekend. Y/N walked into the house and noticed a side table flipped, and a vase broken. A few boxes were off the shelves and maganizes off the coffee table. Y/N automatically reached for her phone to call Gibbs and panic set in when his phone rang on the couch.

She stalked slowly to the basement where she head sobs. She ran down the stairs to find her husband curled up on the floor crying with two crumpled up papers in his hand.

“Baby, hey” she cooed and kneeled next to him. She winced when he shrunk away and pulled his hand away from hers.

“Jethro, hey” she tried again. “It’s just me can- can I help?”

She heard him sniffle but he didn’t move.

“Okay I- I’m just going to sit right here. if and when you’re ready I’ll be here. If you want me to go just tap my hand once.” She said, trying to keep her voice even. She wasn’t new to panic attacks at all of course.

She knew that with Gibbs and his PTSD from everything in his life, this was most likely an episode. He usually hid them from her, much like she did with her panic. After this, she knew that they would have to try harder to talk about it.

She waited for him to tap her hand to ask her to leave, she knew how much being alone helps him process. Much to her surprise, when she did feel him touch her hand it wasn’t a tap, it was him sliding his fingers through hers.

“Can I hold you?” She whispered after a few minutes of holding his hand.

He nodded slightly and she wasted no pulling him into her chest.

“I-I-I” he stammered.

“Shhhh” she assured as she stroked his hair. “We can talk in a minute baby, just breath. Can I see what you have?” She asked pointing to the crumpled papers. He nodded and tried to smooth them out a bit before holding them out to her.

She gasped as she saw what they were. It was a stack of letters, half from her that she had written from the safe house a few months ago and half from Shannon, that she had written from protective custody before they were killed.

Tears came to her eyes as she realized just how much it hurt him when they had to go away.

“Aw baby” she said as she kissed his head.

“We’re here, we’re safe. I’m so sorry you had to go through this again.”

“I- I found the letters and thought about how I lost them and I almost lost you and Amelia and I- I can’t lose you.” He cried into her chest. “I just- god it hurt all over again reading these”

“I know, I know” she said, tears falling slowly.

“Has this been happening a lot?” She asked him after about 20 minutes of just holding him.

“Not this bad” he admitted.

“I um- my panic has been bad too. I have been thinking about seeing some one, think maybe you should too.”

“Y/N-“ he started to argue.

“I’m not asking you to spill your guts, just try it?”

He nodded and took a deep breath “I’ll think about it.” He said and she knew that was the most she’d get for now.

Later that night as they were wrapping Amelia’s presents Gibbs finally remembered what she had said about her own panic.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were panicking again?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She leaned back into him and sighed. “I just was hoping it’d go away”

He nodded, getting that more then she knew.

“You gonna get help?” He murmured.

“I actually made an appointment yesterday, thinking about going back on meds.” She had been on them back when Ryan had first died but slowly cut back.

He nodded.

“Had one when I was with meals the other day... I- I- have to be okay for her.” She said and snuggled further into his grip.

He nodded and marveled at how strong and fearless his wife was. She would do anything for their little girl and he wouldn’t even go talk to someone after breaking down. He couldn’t, he just had to keep going. He thought if he was ‘strong’ enough he’d be able to fix them all, even though he knew Y/N would tell him being ‘strong’ didn’t mean you didn’t need help. He just never knew how to ask for it.

The next day Gibbs went in to work for a few hours, Andi and Josh still had Amelia until her party that night. Y/N had her therapy appointment and had to pick up her new medicine. She had one more stop to make.

She had set up the the perfect gift for not just amelia but her whole family.

She pulled into the drive way a few hours later and smiled to see Gibbs truck already there. He had made Amelia her first “Big Girl Bed” complete with railings on the side that they could remove to sit and read to her or when she didn’t need them anymore, and was planning to put it together in her room that afternoon. She smiled at the new member of their family in the back seat.

“Alright bud, hope dad isn’t too mad at me for this” she said and smiled as her new “son” barked from the back seat.

Y/N knew Gibbs loved dogs and that even if he wouldn’t admit he needed help to any other humans, maybe he’d let a dog help him.

She had contacted a program that trains dogs for people with panic disorder and PTSD. She also knew that a puppy would work wonders for their little girl who still woke up From nightmares every few nights. As soon as she saw this particular pup she knew he was theirs.

She walked into the house with the dog following close behind her.

“Jethro” she yelled and she heard “up here” from Amelia’s room.

“Can you come down real quick?”

“In a minute”

He said and she smiled and patted the dogs head as she heard her husband’s foot steps.

“Uh Y/N” he said when he spotted she wasn’t alone.

“Hi”

“Why do you have a dog”

“Meet Sniper, your new puppy son.” Y/N said as she nodded to sniper to go and see the man.

Gibbs smirked and leaned down to pet the dog who had moved to greet his new owner.

“Hi handsome” he said taking the dog’s head in his hands and scratching his cheeks.

“You got her a dog?” He questioned looking up.

“Got us a dog.”

Gibbs smiled and shook his head.

“You’re crazy” he laughed and kissed the dog’s head.

“So you like him”

“He’s our son now...of course I like him” he laughed and she smiled wide, sitting down next to him.

“Sniper huh?” He asked with a grin.

“Thought you’d like that” y/N smiled and he kissed her head.

“He’s trained for families who have members battling panic and ptsd”

“You did this for me?” He asked and she can tell he is a little apprehensive.

“You’re not the only one I did this for Jethro. He is trained for kids who have been through trauma as well.”

“You here to help us buddy?” He asked and smiled when the dog barked happily.

“Just like how we help each other.” Y/N said.

He smiled and kissed her, “you’re crazy, and incredible.” He laughed and hugged her to him.

“Meals is gonna love you” he said to sniper. “Hope you like hugs.” He continued and laughed as Sniper almost leaned his body weight into him, waiting for a hug.

Yeah, she made the right choice, she thought as she watched her husband with sniper.

It was almost time for Andi to bring Amelia home. They had decorated the whole house, Gibbs had finished her “big girl bed” they had put a big bow on it and Sniper was laying on his own bed next to hers with a big bow on his head.

Y/N opened the door while Gibbs stayed upstairs to keep sniper in his spot.

“Hi baby! Happy party day darling!”

“Hi momma!!!! Where poppa!”

“Well, you get most of your presents from momma and poppa on your actual birthday tomorrow, but you get two surprises from us today! They are in your room with poppa, should we go see?”

“Yeahhhhh” she squealed

“Poppa I home!” She yelled and swung the door open stopping in her tracks.

“Hi baby! Happy almost birthday!”

“Rrruff” sniper barked happily and wagged his tail.

“Amelia wanna come meet sniper?”

She nodded and walked over to her dad and the dog.

“He our doggie?”

“He is baby” Gibbs laughed and she pet him.

“I has a puppy brover?”

“Yup you have a puppy brother and poppa made you something too.”

“A BIG GIRL BED!” She yelled jumping up on it.

“Puppy come on my big girl bed?”

“Sure sweets, sniper can go up.” Y/N said looked at the dog “go ahead” she said and the dog jumped up and started licking Amelia’s face.

“I LUV PIP-ER”

Gibbs laughed at how the little girl said sniper and smiled as he watched Y/N join the love fest.

“Come on gunny” Y/N said as she motioned Gibbs to join them. He shook his head and plopped down on the bed sandwiching sniper and Amelia between him and Y/N. Feeling all the more lucky for the ladies and now gentleman in his life.

————-

Next chapter

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @drakelover78 @hopscotchandlemon @viper-official @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

[alpacaparkaseok]

Relentless

I choose you.

→ Pairing: KTH x oc

→ warnings/tags/genre: SFW, soulmate au, angsty, fluff, mentions of a past abusive relationship

→ word count: 5.9k

→ a/n: made it! this is the bonus chapter of the original series “Lost & Found”, which I would recommend reading before you read this because it might not make a lot of sense otherwise. Please be aware that this jumps timelines a bit, so be aware of the headings before each section. 

I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you all for waiting so patiently!

--

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

--

           It’s been eight months since Christina has seen Taehyung’s soulmate, after firmly ordering her to find someone else to cut her thread.

           “I’m not doing it,” Christina seethed. Angry, but for what? A real chance at love? Even as the thought crosses her mind, she scoffs. False hope is all that it is. “If you’re so set on ruining your life, go find someone else to help you.”

           Ae remains composed, almost terrifyingly so. She stands with her arms crossed, her back to the warehouse door. She looks around at the tools lying around, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how Christina manages to sever the thread.

           “Christina,” Ae mumbles softly, only making Christina want to scream even louder. “At least show me how-”

           “Get out.”

           “Listen for a second-”

           “Ae, I’m not kidding. Get out of my warehouse. I’m not showing you anything! Just- can’t you just give him a chance?”

           Ae blinks, arms falling to her sides as she laughs softly. “You think that’s what this is about? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

           “Enlighten me, then.”

           “I can’t do it, Christina. I can’t stand to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. That’s the only reason they were going to hire me! I didn’t-” Ae stops, rubbing her face angrily. “I didn’t even get to finish my interview. Once I was labeled as Taehyung’s soulmate, it’s like nothing even mattered anymore.”

           Christina doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but she knows who does. “Talk to Jolie about it, then. She can help you, she went through the same thing.”

           It should be an easy fix, right?

           “Jolie, like Jimin’s soulmate?”

           “I’ll call her right now, if you want. She knows better than anyone how to deal with this. Chung-hei, too.”

           Ae hesitates. “That’s Namjoon’s?”

           Christina arches a brow, about to say something snarky about labels, but deciding against it at the last moment. “Yeah. Just talk to them before you do anything drastic, ok?”

           Once Ae agrees, Christina is pulling her phone out and sending a message to her group chat with Sunmi, Jolie, and Chung-hei. She ignores the sharp pain that goes through her when she sees that the most recent text was from Jolie, teasing her about Taehyung.

Me: I’m sending a new friend over to Jolie’s apartment. It’s an emergency meeting. Can everyone make it?

                       Everyone responds quickly, agreeing to meet up. Sunmi offers to swing by Christina’s apartment to pick her up, which she agrees to.

           When Sunmi’s car pulls up, Christina gestures for Ae to head out.

           “Aren’t you coming with me?” Ae asks. When Christina shakes her head, Ae’s eyes widen. “But, I don’t know any of these people.”

           Christina smiles softly. “They’re going to be like family to you, don’t worry. Now, go. Tell Sunmi that I’ll catch up later.”

           Ae studies Christina’s eyes for a long moment, sensing her lie but heading for the door regardless. However, just before she heads out the door, she turns around to face the solemn girl.

           “You know, Christina…I know that it’s you.”

           Christina’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. Surely she’s mistaken; how would Ae know about her ties to Taehyung? Perhaps she revealed too much by sending her off to Jolie, she should’ve known how obvious that would be-

           “Yours was the first name out of his mouth today, not mine.”

           And with that, Ae strides out of Christina’s apartment, never looking back.

--

Eight Months Prior (the day Ae and Taehyung met)

Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slams the door behind him and rushes to the sink, crashing into it. He pants at his reflection, bringing one of those shaking hands up to brush the hair from his eyes but freezes when he notices the red thread dangling from his left hand.

           “Hello, my name is Ae, and I’m interviewing for the camera director position.”

           Taehyung had been slouched in the corner all morning, playing on his phone and wondering why one earth Christina had practically begged him the night before to go to the interviews. However, when he heard that voice…

           “Wait,” he pokes his head up and looks toward the center of the room. His eyes met wide ones, the girl in question freezing in her place as Taehyung sat up to get a better view. “Do I know you?”

           “N-no,” Ae jumps a little, looking apprehensive and automatically sliding her left hand behind her back. It’s that movement that alerts Taehyung to the life-changing knowledge that his soulmate is a mere few feet away from him.

           The rest is a blur.

           People cheered – cheered – when they made the connection, some staff member giving Taehyung a hearty pat on the back that propelled him toward Ae. Something shouted something about giving the couple some space, while another made a remark about Ae obviously getting the job.

           “Her soulmate is Kim Taehyung,” they mumbled with a smile. “Of course she’s gonna get the job. How dreamy is that? Getting to work with your soulmate!”

           Taehyung was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the way Ae flinched at the staff member’s comment. Instead, he stood there like a fool as Ae kept her eyes on the ground, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater.

           It was only when the room fell eerily silent that Taehyung realized everyone had left, leaving him alone with his supposed soulmate.

           “I’m so sorry,” Ae began, daring a quick glance up at Taehyung. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here today, I would have rescheduled-“

           “Wait, what?” Taehyung frowns, his voice raspy. “You knew?”

           As his soulmate studies his expression, he hates how she sees right through him. This beautiful stranger already knows more about him than his most loyal friends do.

           Because Ae rises from her seat, crossing her arms and offering Taehyung a soft smile. A sad smile, that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

           “Don’t worry Taehyung,” she mumbles. “I’ll take care of everything.”

           His blood runs cold when he realizes what she means

           “Christina.”

           When he stumbles out of the room a few moments later, the only thing on his mind is talking to Christina. He nearly drops his phone in the effort, but he finally manages to get her contact information up.

           As he listens it ring, he wonders what exactly he wants from this phone call.

           To beg her forgiveness?

           Or to beg her to run away with him?

           In the end, she doesn’t answer. Four missed phone calls and six increasingly desperate texts later, Taehyung bursts into the nearest room he can find. And it’s now, standing in the bathroom on the main floor of the Hybe building, that Taehyung tries to call someone else.

           “Hello?”

           “Jiminie…”

           “Tae? What’s up?”

           “Jimin, I-” Taehyung closes his mouth, staring down at his red thread before speaking again. “I met her.”

           “You met…who?”

           Taehyung’s pretty sure he can hear Jolie in the background of the call, and it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. His mouth runs on with his thoughts, forgetting that Jimin has no idea what he’s talking about.

           “This can’t be happening,” he mumbles, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Why is this happening?”

           “Tae, where are you?”

           Taehyung can hardly hear him anymore, stuck staring at his reflection in the mirror and replaying the day over and over. Angry at himself for being so foolish, for the eternal track that his mind keeps running. No matter how he reads it, he always comes back to the same conclusion. The same question.

           “How could she do this to me?”

--

           When Taehyung left the room in a flurry of nerves and shock, Ae remained behind. Still in shock from the whole encounter, still wondering if she was supposed to finish up her interview.

           She wished that she would have snuck out before the staff started coming back in.

           “How are you feeling?” One staff in particular asked. She was a part of the board that was conducting interviews, her name was Lia. She appeared to be bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at Ae as though she were an ancient artifact that had recently been uncovered. “Can you believe it?”

           Ae smiled softly, fighting the uneasy feeling in her gut. “Er…no. Not really.”

           At her words, the rest of the staff giggle and start chatting amongst themselves, throwing out the occasional question that Ae hardly has time to answer before another one comes. She finally clears her throat, glancing at Lia expectantly.

           “So, uh…” she shakes her head, trying to sound more professional. “Do we need to carry on with the interview now?”

           Everyone stares at her for a moment before Lia promptly bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart,” she croons, reaching out and patting Ae’s head. “I mean, if you want to, we can finish it. But you know you’ve got the job, right?”

           At this news Ae perks up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know-”

           “Your soulmate is literally Kim Taehyung,” another staff member pipes up from the back. “How could you not?”

           As everyone shares knowing smiles, Ae remains frozen to her seat. “I- you mean…” she trails off, and Lia tilts her head quizzically. “Not to sound ungrateful, but…say Taehyung wasn’t my soulmate. Would I still get the job?”

           To Lia’s credit, she tries to look serious about considering the question. However, Ae sees all that she needs to see is that moment of hesitation. And when Lia opens to mouth to say, “Of course,” Ae slowly rises from her seat and excuses herself from the room.

           That was the beginning of the end.

Later that night

Someone is pounding on the door. With a heavy sigh and tear-swollen eyes, Christina pads her way up to her front room. She stares at the front door, flinching when the knocking resumes.

           “What?” She yells out, annoyance clear in her tone. The response on the other side of the door is muffled, but rings loud and clear through Christina’s ears.

           “Christina, I swear if you don’t open this door right now-”

           With her heart in her throat, Christina yanks the front door open, causing the annoying nuisance of a person to stumble inside, gasping. Once they gain their balance, Christina hurries to shut the door behind them, cursing under her breath at how freezing it is outside.

           Her visitor tries and fails to hide his shivers, and he pants and pushes his mop of hair back. Water drips from his clothes, pooling on the floor and seeping into the rug. However, Christina can’t find the words to properly reprimand him as he straightens up and levels her with a piercing stare.  

           “Now,” Taehyung breathes out, jaw clenched. “Care to explain all of this?” He desperately points to the red thread hanging from his left hand, a testament to his soulmate on the other side of it.

           “No. Not really.”

           Taehyung’s eyes flash at Christina’s off-hand attitude, something white-hot coursing through him as she goes to reach for the door. No doubt to kick him out.

           He won’t have it, though. In an instant he’s grabbed Christina’s shoulders, halting her in her movement and turning her about to face him completely. For some reason he’s panting again, and as Christina looks up at him through her lashes, he swallows heavily.  

           Hands falling to his sides, Taehyung clenches and unclenches his jaw. Christina remains silent before him, staring up at him as though daring him to speak. To say something stupid and making everything somehow worse than it already is.

           “Don’t-” the word gets caught in his throat, “don’t shut me out.” Taehyung closes his eyes, squeezes them shut for a long moment before opening them again and chancing a step forward. “Don’t leave me.”

           Christina knows she should step away, open the door, and kick Taehyung out into the rain again. Make him leave, make him call Ae. Send him over to Jolie’s apartment, where his soulmate is no doubt coming to see that cutting the thread isn’t the best choice.

           But she doesn’t move. Caught in those endless irises, holding her in her spot.

           And to think, just yesterday they were joking around. Comfortable. Happy.

           “I don’t want to hope.”

           The words tumble out of Christina’s mouth without her consent, however once she starts speaking, the words just won’t stop.

           “Please don’t do this to me, Tae. Taehyung. I can’t be the reason everyone’s lives fall apart. I already ruined my own life, isn’t that enough? You don’t want me-”

           “Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asks, deathly quiet.

           Christina can’t stand the way he’s looking at her. Like he’d gladly give it all up – give his soulmate up – just to spend a little longer here with her. So despite the horrible wrongness of her words, she spits them out anyway in an effort to wipe that look from his face.

           “You don’t want somebody’s leftovers, Taehyung.”

           Taehyung jolts as though someone slapped him, mouth dropping at her words. His eyes glance down at her severed thread, the same one she’d held up a mere week ago when they’d sat together on the balcony of his apartment.

           It had been with hushed tones that Christina finally told Taehyung her whole story. How she ran from her soulmate, desperate to find any way to cut her thread. And Taehyung had silently listened, holding her when it all became too much.

           Now, those hushed tones have dagger-like tendencies. Now Christina wields the truth against herself, trying to sabotage whatever this is between them before it’s too late.

           Taehyung doesn’t have it in him to inform her that it already is too late.

           It’s been too late for a while now. He’s in too deep.

           “Christina,” he breathes. His eyes are so dangerous, flashing with a moment’s anger as he thinks on what her words entail. “Do you really think that?”

           “It doesn’t matter what I think-”

           “Yes, it does!” Taehyung shouts now, and Christina realizes that she’s somehow managed to break down those walls. He was angry to begin with, so it didn’t take too much to stoke that flame again. “Of course it does, how can you even say that about yourself?”

           “Taehyung, I’ve already accepted that this is how it’s going to be. Can’t you just be happy?”

           “Be happy? Did you seriously just ask me to be happy?”

           “Yes! No go find your soulmate and be happy with her!”

           “NO!”

           Christina jumps as Taehyung’s voice echoes through her small apartment, hand jumping up to where her heart beats madly against her chest. Taehyung huffs in front of her, eyes wild as he struggles to explain.

           “How dare you throw this away?” Taehyung takes another step forward, boxing her in as her legs press against the back of her couch. “How dare pretend like I haven’t been happy this entire time, with you? Did that…weren’t you happy?”

           Yes.

           “Please leave.”

           Taehyung’s breathing falters, suddenly more labored as he blinks rapidly. It’s only later that Christina will realize that he was blinking away tears. Tears of frustration, sadness, she’s not sure.

           “Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me the villain. Make it work, Tae. Just…try. For Ae.”

           If Christina lifted her head to look at Taehyung, she would have seen him furiously wiping away a stray tear, shaking his head.

           “But I don’t love Ae.”

           Christina curls in on herself even more, silently begging him to not finish that thought. I love you.

           Because he does. Or at least, he thinks he does.

           But Christina knows that she loves him. She has for months now. And this is the best way to love him.

           Give him the best shot she can at true love.

           “You will.”

           Christina swears she can feel Taehyung ghost a hand over her hair before thinking better of it. He stays for a while longer, breathing ragged and a million thoughts running through his mind.

           Christina doesn’t dare look at him, still hiding her head in her hands.

           “Christina…” Taehyung finally whispers. Even his quiet voice sounds too loud in her head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”

           She does after a few shaky breaths, willing herself to shut down her emotions as she drags her eyes up to meet Taehyung’s.

           His eyes say everything, and it’s too much.

           I love you, she cries out in her mind, eyes shuttering.

           “Thank you, for making me feel wanted,” she says instead.

           “Stop speaking in past tense,” Taehyung warns. Christina scoffs quietly, dropping her eyes once more.

           “Go. Ae is at Jolie’s apartment still, I think. She needs to talk some things out with you.”

           “But Christina-”

           “Kim Taehyung, she’s your soulmate. I am not. Now quit complicating that and leave.”

           He does, no longer able to deny her wishes. As idiotic as he thinks they are.

           And he hates every step that carries him away.

Present Day (8 months later)

Groaning and yawning, Christina makes her way to the front room before promptly collapsing on the couch. She grabs the bag of goldfish she left earlier, popping a few in her mouth as she flips the TV on and begins flipping through the channels. She stops when she spots a familiar face.

           “Tonight we’re discussing what could be the beginning of a new trend regarding soulmates, what some are referring to as the Kim Rebellion. Of course, this is a nod to Kim Taehyung of BTS, as he and his soulmate mutually decided to go their separate ways seven months ago. We go now to Lee Heesun for more details. Heesun?”

           The screen switches to show a grim looking reporter standing outside of the Hybe building, a few people scurrying past him.

           “That’s right, the Kim Rebellion has reached new heights this week as just this morning Paik Ae had an exclusive interview with Dispatch, outlining her reasons for parting ways with her world-famous soulmate.”

           A clip of the interview pops up, showing a smiling Ae and the sight that threw the world into a tailspin after having just recovered from Jimin and Jolie’s drama.

           A severed red thread hangs from Ae’s left hand. She pays it no mind, kindly answering the questions thrown at her and maintaining an easy smile. Christina watches in awe as she speaks, wondering how she could be so brave.

           “Do you regret it?” The interviewer asks, and Ae looks as though she was prepared for the question.

           “I don’t regret walking away, just like how I could never regret getting to meet my soulmate.” She finally glances down at her thread, twisting the end around her fingers. “You know, this isn’t for everybody. However, Taehyung understood my need to distance myself from him. He casts a big shadow,” she chuckles knowingly. “I mean, I’m always going to be associated with him. That’s fine. But…I want people to know that it’s ok to create your own destiny.”

           And create it she has. In the span of the past eight months, Ae has done what Christina had always dreamed of.

           Opening up the door for multiple soulmates to step away from potentially or actually dangerous relationships. Opening up the conversation for those isolated from society for not quite fitting the soulmate mold.

           Normalizing severed threads, one day at a time.

Christina has even been able to make her business more known due to Ae’s efforts. No longer in fear of the stigma against people like her. Because after all, Kim Taehyung of BTS now sports a severed thread, of his and his soulmate’s own free will and choice.  

           So when seven months ago Ae and Taehyung went live to explain that they had no intentions of being together in any capacity, Christina chose to throw herself into her work. Diving in, being too busy to allow herself to wonder where that left her, exactly.

           Don’t make me the villain, she had pleaded all those months ago. Taehyung was smart, he knew that bringing Christina into the light so soon after parting with Ae would lead to people getting the wrong idea.

           Or was it the right one?

           Bzzzz!

           Christina’s train of thought is derailed as a text comes through, from Jolie.

           Jolie loml: hey do you need a ride to your meeting tonight? Sunmi said she could drive you if you wanted

                       Jumping up from the couch, Christina scrambles to grab her shoes. Checking the time, she realizes that she should be able to arrive in time for her meeting if she takes the bus.

           Me: nope, already left! Thanks though!

           Jolie loml: let me know how it goes!! Love youuu

           Me: ugh, so loving and supportive.

           Cracking a small grin at the thought of Jolie’s reaction to her text, Christina runs out the door and toward the bus stop. “This better be worth the humiliation,” she mumbles.

--

           “Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

           “Welcome, Christina. Can we all say hello to our new friend?”

           An array of different voices pipe up, some shy and others more confident. “Hello, Christina.”

           “Hi,” she whispers to the ground.

           “Now,” the facilitator begins with a gentle smile. “What makes you think that you’ve ruined other people’s relationships?”

           Christina chews on her bottom lip for a moment before venturing an answer. “Because I work as a Severer.”

           The silence carries on for a touch too long, and Christina glances up to see a couple of the people around the circle looking at her with wide eyes. There’s one girl in particular that glares outright at her, and Christina notes the cut thread that she sports on her left hand.

           No doubt she’s blaming Christina for her current predicament.

           “Ok,” the facilitator – what’s her name? If she squints, Christina can just see the beginnings of her name tag. Mrs. G? Mrs. G regains her gentle smile, urging Christina to go on. “You’re not the first Severer to join our group. Josh was one, remember?” There’s a few scattered nods. A couple of people even go so far as to smile fondly at the mention of Josh, giving Christina reason to hope that they might not all hate her for her occupation.

           “And what happened to Josh?”

           “Oh, well he moved a couple of months ago. He’s actually getting married, his invitation is on the fridge. You’ll have to look at it before you leave.”

           Christina’s eyes widen at this. “He’s getting…he’s getting married? People like us can do that?”

           Mrs. G laughs at Christina’s incredulous tone, but reassures her instantly. “Of course, Christina. We all deserve our own happiness, don’t we? Now be honest, have you had any mal-intent in your line of work?”

           “Well, no…”

           “Exactly. So, ‘people like you’, as you stated, deserve just as much happiness as the rest of us.” Mrs. G pauses, waiting to see if the words settle into Christina’s heart before continuing. “Happiness isn’t something pre-determined. You find it. You make it.”

           The meeting continues, other people sharing their stories and their progress. Christina listens intently, interested to see a couple of other people that had cut their own thread. One boy in particular piques her interest.

           “I’m a part of the Kim Rebellion,” he explains. “Paik Ae really inspired me, you know? Not a lot of people would turn away from someone like Kim Taehyung, but she really seems happy. I had been with my soulmate for two years, but I was never…I don’t know, I never quite felt like I belonged. Turns out, when I brought it up with them, they felt the same way. So we decided to take the leap, go thread-less.”

           “And how has your journey been so far?” Mrs. G asks, sporting a grin.

           “Amazing,” the boy breathes, with stars in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so free before.”

           Before she knows it, the meeting is concluding and people begin to stack their chairs. Christina stands up to follow suit, but Mrs. G stops her with a hand on her arm.

           “I’ll take care of it, darling. It looks like you have a visitor waiting for you.”

           Turning, Christina cranes her neck to see a familiar mop of black hair just outside the rectangular window of the door, quickly followed by a pair of curious eyes that widen as they notice Christina’s attention.

           “I- excuse me,” Christina stammers out, scurrying over to the door. The moment she opens it, Taehyung jumps back, looking a little sheepish at having been caught.

           “What-” Christina can’t quite get the words out, just shocked to even see this man at all. It’s been…how long has it been? “What are you doing here?”

           Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he’s caught up in that thing he does. Where he goes inside his thoughts, forgetting to respond. Christina sighs, rubbing her face and brushing past him.

           This snaps him out of it, and soon enough Taehyung is jogging to catch up to Christina, jumping in front of her.

           He doesn’t touch her. No, he feels like he shouldn’t just assume that he could ever touch her, let alone now.

           “How did you know…?” Christina finally asks before he can say anything.

           “Jolie.”

           Ah, of course. The recovery group was her idea, actually. To be honest, Christina had vowed to never go back to another recovery group after she went to the one right after she fled her soulmate.

           But here she is. Back again.

           She’s not sure who to blame, anymore. The man in front of her, his soulmate…herself.

           “Christina.”

           “Hmm?”

           Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “Could we maybe…can I give you a ride home?”

           Christina doesn’t immediately respond, too stunned as her focus remains on the hand that Taehyung just ruffled his hair with.

           Focused on the cut thread, to be more exact.

           Sure, she’s seen photos and videos of him with it, even seen him from a distance, but up close…it’s so much more real. So final.

           “Christina?”

           “Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

           Taehyung blinks, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. However, he leads her out of the building without another word, opening up the passenger side door with a nervous smile.

           Christina settles down in the seat with a blank expression, half wondering if this is even real. However, as Taehyung closes the door and she’s met with just how much everything in here is him. The smell alone is enough to have her inhaling deeply, bombarding her sense with the very thing she’s been trying to run from for months now.

           Taehyung hops in the driver’s side, and Christina politely ignores the way his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The silence is heavy as they pull out of the parking lot, and Christina stares out the window as they drive.

           In the reflection of the passenger-side window, she can see Taehyung glancing over at her every so often. Finally, after the tenth time, he speaks.

           “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.”

           “Yeah, how long has it been?”

           Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “Namjoon’s birthday party. Although you were leaving right as I was arriving, remember?”

           “Oh. Right.”

           Again the silence. It’s suffocating, making Christina want to scream.

           “So…” she mumbles out, staring straight ahead. “How have you been?”

           “Oh, good. Been…good.”

           Perhaps it’s the fact that she has nothing left to lose, but Christina finds herself sliding into her teasing persona at his response.

           “Wow, so eloquent.”

           Taehyung blinks before smirking, easing into the conversation as well. “I’ve always had a way with words, don’t you think?”

           “I couldn’t disagree more.”

           The sound of his chuckle fills the small space, and it lodges in Christina’s heart. It becomes a struggle to keep her eyes forward, a part of her begging her to just get lost in this moment.

           Because what if it’s their last?

           And yet…

           What if it’s the first?

           All too soon, they’re parking in front of her apartment, and Christina offers him a small smile of thanks before opening her door. She yelps in surprise when Taehyung reaches across her torso and closes her door.

           “What was that for?” She asks, offended. Turning to Taehyung, she can’t help but feel a little intimidated as he regards her solemnly.

           He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face her fully, one arm resting on the wheel while the other rests on the console.

           He looks so honest, in this moment. Hair a mess, a small stain on his trademark Celine shirt. Christina notices it with a start, recalling the fact that he’s wearing that very shirt in the photo she keep atop her dresser.

           It’s still there. After all these months.

           “Hey,” Taehyung whispers. Christina’s eyes snap up to his face instead of the stain on his shirt. His tongue wets his lips before he speaks again, continuing to whisper. “I’m happy right now. Are you?”

           That red thread whips and twists from the A/C, and Christina takes a moment to look at her own.

           “How did you do it?”

           Taehyung understands her question, following her line of sight. He sighs softly, recalling the day he and Ae took matters into their own hands and singlehandedly started their own rebellion.

           “Some guy in Daegu. Josh, was his name.”

           Christina’s head snaps up. “Josh? He’s getting married!”

           “O-oh, ok,” Taehyung stammers out, chuckling a little. “Good for him.”

           “Sorry.”

           “You’re fine. I’m happy for Josh.”

           “Yeah. Me too.”

           Another pause. This one isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones, though.

           “Christina? You never answered my question.”

           Are you happy right now? Here, with me?

           “Yeah, but-”

           “No buts.”

           Christina groans, leaning back in her seat. “Taehyung, you can’t just drive me home and start going on about happiness and end up with us being together. You know that, right?”

           Taehyung chews on his bottom lip with almost religious fervor. “…I know.”

           “Maybe I should go.”

           “Wait!” Taehyung reaches out again, ready to block Christina’s exit. “I had this whole speech I needed to say to you and- and- quit looking at me like that, otherwise I’m gonna forget it!”

           Christina laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “Sorry, sorry! Let’s hear it!”

           Taehyung sighs, closing his eyes.

           “You’re my choice.”

           After a few moments of silence, Christina frowns. “That’s it?”

           Taehyung’s eyes fly open, a curl curling the corners of his lips. “No! Hold on, let me explain.” Once he sees Christina waiting patiently, he continues. “You and I…we’ve never been given a real choice before. Our decisions were made up, with our soulmates. But you…you broke away from that. Created your own path. You inspired me, still do inspire me, every day. To make my own path.”

           Christina holds her breath, not daring to say anything.

           “Any while your circumstances were much worse than mine, and I’m grateful every day that you were able to escape that sorry excuse for a man, I know this is for certain: we’ve forged our own paths, and for the first time, we’ve been given a choice. I choose you. I chose you months ago, Christina.”

           Taehyung’s hand wraps around the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “Please, tell me you choose me, too.”

           Christina wonders for the hundredth time if this is all real.

           For the first time in her life, is she really able to choose love? If Taehyung’s hopeful gaze is any indication, she must be.

           “Is this ok?” She whispers.

           “Is what ok, darling?”

           The pet name goes straight into her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded. “Is it ok to get you?”

           Taehyung smiles broadly at her question, slowly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

           “Of course it is. You’ve got me, either way.” He sighs. “As much as I’ve been furious with you over the past eight months-”

           “What do you mean, furious?”

           “You led me into a trap to meet my soulmate!” Taehyung exclaims, looking at Christina fondly. “And then avoided me for like eight months after that!”

           “Ok, at least give me credit for being a good person-”

           “Oh, you’re a saint,” Taehyung groans out, finally throwing his door open and rushing around the car to the passenger side. Once he opens that door as well, he crouches down to be eye-level with a wide-eyed Christina. “You’re a certified saint, happy?”

           Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, Christina senses the real question behind it. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the stain on his shirt, making a blush rise to Taehyung’s cheeks.

           “Yes.” She gives him a shaky smile. “Extremely.”

           Taehyung’s smile only grows as he takes the hand that rests against his shirt, raising his up to place gentle kisses along the tips of her fingers. Christina’s breath catches at the sight, Taehyung’s dark eyes fluttering closed.

           “Let me walk you to your door,” he mumbles.

           Christina complies, thrilling in the feel of his hand in hers as they walk to the door. Once there, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Want to come in?”

           Taehyung gasps, and Christina throws a hand over his mouth at his over the top reaction.

           “Not like that, you pervert! We just have a lot to talk about still!”            Taehyung grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away. “And you just don’t want me to leave yet, right?”

           “Oh, shut up.”

           Once they head inside, Christina heads straight for the kitchen while Taehyung takes a seat on the stool. Filling up a glass of cool apple cider, Christina passes it to him before leaning back against the counter and drinking in the view.

           “You know,” she starts, taking a swig of the sweet drink before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of people sit there. Drink cider, talk about their problems.”

           “Oh really?”

           “Yeah, like Jolie. And Ae.”

           “Now me.”

           “Now you.” Christina sighs, setting her glass down. “You want the truth?”

           Taehyung looks intrigued, also setting his glass down. “Always.”

           “I’ve been waiting for you to sit there.” She’s surprised when her vision blurs with tears, not expecting to be so emotional about it. “I didn’t think you ever would, though.”

           In an instant, Taehyung is on his feet and wrapping her into a tight embrace. As she breathes him in, Christina wonders if this is what Jolie meant when she described how Jimin felt like home.

           “I’ll be sitting there until my butt falls off.”

           Chest shaking with laughter at his own comment, Christina groans but doesn’t try to move away. Instead she wraps her arms around his middle, holding him even tighter.

           “Gross, but thank you.”

           Lips pressing a gentle kiss atop her head, Christina can feel Taehyung smile against her hair. “Anything for you, darling.”

--

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[yayeetsonny]

Always tell the truth~ USWNT x Baby Reader

A/N: Hi ya’ll, yes I’m still alive, I’m sorry I went MIA for Idk how many months. My life just got turned upside down and I got a job and I’ve just been so busy. But I’m officially back and will be getting to all the requests I’ve received soon. This wasn’t a request but I got this idea from another fic I read so I hope you enjoy - N

Y/N PRO//

At 18 years old I’ve got so many activities and responsibilities sometimes I wonder how I’m still functioning. I’m a senior in high school, an honor student, a theatre geek and most of all I’m a pro soccer player for the United States Women’s National team. Its amazing, I’m living out my dream of playing the greatest game alongside some of my idols and we’re like one big, goofy dysfunctional family. My parents, while they love me and support me, aren’t around much and aren’t the most attentive. But my teammates make up for it by acting like overprotective, hovering moms whenever we’re together. 

I’d just gotten to the facility where we were gathering for our first team training of this camp. I was extremely excited to see my teammates. 

 I walked into the meeting room quietly and I saw everyone just talking among themselves; they had yet to notice me, so I took full advantage of this. I walked up behind Mal, made a shh gesture to Alex who made eye contact with me and took a deep breath, then I let out an ear piercing yell. Mal and anyone else who hadn’t seen me jumped 10 feet in the air. Poor Mal was in a heap on the floor, clutching her chest while the others were laughing and trying to compose themselves.

“What the- Y/N!”

“That’s me!”

“Hey kiddo! Quite the entrance you made there.”

“I know, I apologize I just couldn’t resist. Sorry Mal.”

I helped her off the floor and wrapped her in a hug.

“You good?” I giggled

“Yeah, you just gave me a heart attack, no big.” She giggled back

I made my rounds, gave and received hugs and hellos and then I went to sit with everyone for the start of the meeting. I rolled up the sleeves of my hoodie and got comfortable since these meetings tend to be long. Alex was on one side of me and Mal was on the other. I didn’t notice the giant bruise on my arm but Alex did.

“Y/N? Where’d you get that bruise?”

“Bruise? What are you talking about?” I say looking at her like she had grown two heads.

“That nasty looking one, where’d you get it?” She said pointing at my arm but not breaking eye contact with me.

I looked at the bruise for a minute, studying it, trying to figure out where it came from. I genuinely couldn’t remember hurting myself or hitting my arm hard enough to leave a bruise

“Oh, uh I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay… are you sure you don’t know where it’s from?

“Yes I’m sure.”

“Okay well if it starts to hurt or gets worse for whatever reason let me know and I’ll get some cream for it.”

I could tell Alex didn’t believe the whole “I don’t know” response but its the truth and she let it drop anyways so whatever. 

Mal just looked at me curiously

“What was that about?” She whispered

“Oh nothing, Alex is just being overprotective as usual.” I whispered back

The meeting was long as I predicted but when it was finally over we were sent to change for practice. On the way there I let Mal hop on my back, once she was on and comfortable she yelled 

“Onward trusty steed!”

“Your wish is my command!” I said as we both giggled

I carried her all the way there and then gently set her down and went to get changed. 

I was talking to Christen whose locker happened to be next to mine and she was telling me about her dogs and how much she misses them, I was beginning to tell her about my dog and how much I miss him when I saw her staring at my arm.

“Hello? Earth to Christen?”

I waved my hand in front of her face trying to get her attention and after a minute it worked.

“Huh? Oh sorry, I don’t mean to stare, it’s just that bruise on your arm looks quite painful, what happened?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember.” I said shrugging

“You don’t remember? Are you sure?” She said looking at the bruise and back at me worriedly

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

I could tell she too didn’t believe me but I’m not sure what else to say, I can’t just make up some story about what happened. Okay well I could but that would be lying and I’ve always been a terrible liar.

I decided to just forget about those two interactions for the time being and focus on giving my all this camp so that the coaches know I can be trusted to step up when they need me to. 

We started out with some warm ups, then did some sprints, passing drills, shooting drills, set piece work, PK practice and to wrap it up like always we had a scrimmage. My team consisted of, Chris, Alyssa, Crystal, Sam and myself, the other team consisted of Alex, Tobin, Ashlyn, Ali and Lindsey. 

The scrimmage was pretty normal, a few goals for each side my team unfortunately coming up short by one goal, as the other team celebrated my teammates and I pretended to be upset and pouted about the loss. 

“Oh cheer up guys, you’ll get us next time… maybe.” Ash said giggling

“Yeah, yeah. You guys only won because I got distracted by a butterfly on that last play.” Sam said 

Everyone just stared at her blankly

“What? It was really pretty! Didn’t you guys see it?”

We all just started cracking up at that. I was able to pull myself together enough to ask the question everyone was thinking

“You-you really got distracted by a butterfly during the game Sammy?”

“Yes, and?”

“It’s just as funny hearing it a second time” I said before laughing again 

“You guys are mean.” She pouted

“You love us.” Ali said, reaching up and ruffling Sam’s hair. 

After practice the team all got on the bus and went back to the hotel we were staying at. Vlatko booked out a whole floor just for us since he knows how loud we can be and didn’t want to deal with angry neighbors. Not again, after last time. This time I’d be rooming with Ali, we didn’t get put together often but I always enjoy when we do. It helps us bond and I’m always learning new things about her. 

I was going to meet them there later however because I had to go see my parents at their request, my dad said something about it being urgent. I got in a team van and went to see them.

After several hours I was finally able to go back to the hotel and be there for the rest of the night. My parent’s seem to have had a change of heart about my career choice, they went on and on about the sudden need for me to join the family business and how my only goal in life should now be to live up to their legacy. I hated every minute of it, I was so ready to get Into my comfortable clothes and head to get something to eat. When I got to the room I’d be sharing with Ali I opened the door to an empty room. She must be with Ash. I thought.

 I decided to get changed and see if I could find her. As I was changing I didn’t hear the door open and only knew my roommate had arrived when I heard a gasp

“Y/N… What happened babe?”

“Ali, Hi. What do you mean? Nothing’s happened.”

“ So that big bruise on your arm, the one on your shoulder and the one going all the way down your spine aren’t anything?” 

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You obviously know what I’m talking about.”

“No I don’t, I only knew about the one on my arm, after Alex pointed it out. Otherwise I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the mirror in the bathroom, spun me around and said 

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“Oh… I don’t know.” 

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t, that’s the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and besides, we are soccer players, I probably just got them in practice.”

“Y/N… I’ll ask again, where are those bruises from?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.

A/N: Okayyyy... sorry for the sort of cliff hanger? I can’t type anymore for now because my wrists hurt too bad. (Work messed them up lol) so this’ll be a two part imagine, sorry!- N

Not really edited

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

[kaimelia]

Hi, I love your work. I hope you doing well. I was wondering if you have time and feel inspired would you be able to write an Amlink fanfic where Amelia and Link go away for the weekend or for work and they meet Amelia sisters.

Thanks,❤️😊😊

new beginnings

a/n: hi! thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it!

--------------------------------

"You wanna find someplace to sit?" Link laughed slightly, placing his hand on the small of Amelia's back as she gained her footing. She glanced back at him and narrowed her gaze. "What? You did last time, and you're looking a little out of it right now."

"Maybe just head back to the room," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. "In conclusion, sound baths mess me up." He grinned and guided her down the hallways of the hotel containing the different conference rooms. "When's your thing again?"

"Tomorrow. You've got time to recover." Amelia sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, Link's arm wrapping around her waist and supporting the weight of her body. "You look like you're gonna pass out." He watched as she shook her head.

"I'm fine-"Amelia's eyes widened dramatically as she stopped talking, and Link followed her gaze.

"Amelia?" Her body tensed as Nancy approached them, her arms outstretched to hug her sister. Link stepped away as she wrapped her arms around Amelia. "What are you doing here?"

"I-uh-Link's giving a presentation, what-uh-what are you doing here?" Nancy turned and eyed Link before holding out her hand. He shook it.

"Nice to see you," he muttered, pursing his lips in a tight smile.

"Likewise," she smiled, retracting her hand. "Liz and I needed an excuse to get out of town, and this counts as a work trip. You're giving a presentation?" She directed her question towards Link, nodding her head.

"Yeah, tomorrow. On the dangers of dependency and how physicians can take better steps to prevent it with their patients," he smiled politely.

"Where's Liz? You're sure Kathleen isn't with her, too?"

"We invited her, but she couldn't come. We should get dinner tonight."

"Yeah, so it can go like last time," Amelia shook her head. "I think we're good." Nancy reached out a hand to Amelia's shoulder.

"It won't, as long as you're not lying about who he is, but we already went through that." Amelia grimaced slightly, some of the tension in her face relaxing as Link placed his hand on her back.

"We're supposed to meet a friend of mine for dinner," Link said, shrugging his shoulders. "And, we're leaving tomorrow afternoon, right after my presentation."

"Oh," Nancy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, we'll come to find you tomorrow? We haven't seen you in years, Amelia."

"Sure," Amelia muttered, forcing a smile on her face. "Yeah, you can come to Link's presentation."

"I think Liz got lost, I have to find her, but I'll see you tomorrow!" They waved goodbye as Nancy walked away, and once she was out of sight, Amelia turned to Link.

"If I had a nickel for every time we ran into Nancy somewhere we completely didn't expect," she ran a hand through her hair. "Thank you for covering."

"Of course," he smiled, "although I was looking forward to meeting your other sister."

"And you will, tomorrow," Amelia groaned, leaning her head back against Link's shoulder. "Do I have to?"

"I mean, I have to give the presentation, so I'll see them, but if you want, I can tell them you died after we went back to the hotel room."

"You'd be over my death in less than 24 hours?" He nodded firmly, the smirk on his face growing.

"Oh, yeah, you think you're special?"

--------------------------------

"What're you thinking about?" Link asked, taking off his watch and setting it on top of the dresser. Amelia was collapsed on the bed behind him, staring up at the ceiling.

"My sisters."

"What about them?" He swapped his day clothes with pajamas and then sat on the bed beside her.

"They don't know about Scout. And, I didn't have a problem with that; we never saw them, they never made an attempt at reaching out, but seeing them today?" She rolled to the side, placing a hand on Link's chest and resting her head beside it. "I don't know, I know they're not going to be as close as Meredith and Maggie are, but I love the family we have for Scout, and to think that there may be more people to love him that I'm holding him back from?" Link glanced down at her and tangled his fingers in her hair.

"If you tell them, you're opening yourself up to criticism of every parenting decision you've made. This means staying in contact with them, Kathleen, and your Mom finding out. I mean, are you ready for that?" She sighed.

"No. But I don't want to keep them from Scout if they're willing to be family to him. He deserves to have as much love and annoying family around him as possible." She moved her head so that her chin was on his chest, and she was looking at him. "Your parents are the best grandparents there are. And, what if my Mom wants to take him for ice cream on the weekends and send him postcards from every place she visits?"

"When was the last time your Mom was in contact with Mer's kids? They're her grandkids, and I don't think I've ever heard them mention her before." Amelia looked away and sighed again. "If you want to make an effort with them, I will be by your side the whole time. But, just think about everything that's happened between all of you, and think about if you want that around Scout." He reached down to pull the comforter over them, and Amelia grabbed her phone from the bedside table. "What're you doing?"

"Facetiming Maggie. I miss Scout." He smiled and kissed the top of her head, grins covering both of their faces as the call opened to see Scout asleep on top of his Aunt.

--------------------------------

"It'll be fine," Link muttered against her hair, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. "They're walking over here." Amelia smiled as her sisters approached them.

"Hey," she greeted, raising her eyebrows as Liz pulled her into a hug.

"It's been forever, Amelia; I'm so glad to see you!" She pulled back and stuck her hand out to Link. "Liz. And, I'm the last one to meet you." He shook her hand and introduced himself.

"And, the only one to meet him as himself," Nancy muttered snarkily, crossing her arms over her chest. Amelia refrained from rolling her eyes.

"We can't stay for long; our flight leaves in a few hours, and we still have to pack," Link smiled pleasantly, "but we figured we would stay to see you." They all sat down at the table in the cafe.

"So, what's going on with you two?" Amelia looked at Link, who placed his hand on her leg and squeezed gently.

"We just bought a house, one close to the hospital and to Meredith so we can be near her," Link spoke. "Other than that, working all the time. This conference is our first time away since the pandemic."

"A house?" Nancy raised her eyebrows. "Are you two getting married?"

"No," Amelia shook her head, breathing slowly to calm herself. "Just finding our own space. We were stuck watching Mer's kids for most of the pandemic, and we needed to get out of there."

"Mm, I would love to come and visit," Liz muttered, sipping her coffee, "I haven't been to Seattle since Derek needed a nerve transplant."

"Maybe we can all make a trip out of it?" Nancy added, leaning back in her chair. "We never see Derek's kids."

"Link and I have a son," Amelia blurted out, her eyes widening as soon as she said it. "Uh, sorry, I thought I should say that so you don't come to Seattle and surprise! There's a toddler running around our house." Link squeezed her leg again.

"A toddler? He's a toddler, and you didn't tell us?"

"Yeah, we don't exactly talk very often, and we were a little stressed with a newborn and Mer's kids during quarantine," Amelia paused. "His name is Scout, and he just turned two a few months ago."

"Can I see pictures?" Liz asked, leaning forward and clasping her hands together. Link smiled and pulled out his phone, opening the album with thousands of photos of Scout. He turned the phone to her. "He looks just like you, Link." Liz turned the phone towards Nancy.

"I'm sorry, how did you have a baby and not tell your family?" Nancy scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Family means being there for each other, and I didn't want to say anything after you and Kathleen spent a dinner throwing things in my face."

"After you lied to us." Amelia breathed out slowly and bit the inside of her cheek. "We're your family."

"I'm trying to move forward, and if you want to be part of the life that we have now," she motioned between her and Link, "you can. And if you don't, I have plenty of family in Seattle who will be there for us and our son. Family isn't just blood." Nancy held her hands up in defense.

"So, you don't want us in your life?"

"No," Link spoke beside her, squeezing Amelia's leg again as he sensed her upset. "We're saying that if you want to be involved, and you're willing to do that without constantly bringing up the past, we'd love to have you in our lives."

"I know my kids would love to come and visit," Liz smiled and handed the phone back. "They'll be so excited about their baby cousin, can I get your address to send things? A late birthday gift, so my kids have an excuse to buy too many baby toys." The neurosurgeon smiled and took her phone out.

"I'll text it to you," she whispered, trying to hide her joy. "We'd love to have you visit; he loves meeting new people ever since the pandemic ended."

"Does Mom know?"

"Not yet," Amelia clasped her hands together under the table. "We're figuring things out. And, I can't control whether you tell her and Kathleen, so I'll probably tell them soon."

"This is insane," Nancy shook her head, "this is insane."

"Nance, give her a chance," Liz looked over, watching as their eldest sister stood up and grabbed her jacket. "She's trying here; can't you give her some credit for that?"

"No, she doesn't get to join the family when it's convenient for her." She took her phone from the table and dropped it into her pocket. "I'll see you later, Liz, and Amelia?" Amelia raised her eyebrows. "I hope you understand, and I hope that one day, you'll make an effort to be part of the family." She walked away, leaving the three of them alone at the table. Amelia sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead with her hand.

"I'm sorry about her," Liz whispered, glancing towards where she had left. "But, I'd love to hear more about your son, if that's okay." Amelia grinned and pulled out her phone, showing a picture of Scout with his birthday cake in front of him.

--------------------------------

"Nancy hates me," she muttered, tightening her grip on the armrests of her seat, glancing as people hurried past the waiting area they had occupied in the busy airport.

"And, Liz doesn't." Link placed his hand over hers and squeezed lightly. "You found someone who wants to be involved, who wants to be family, and maybe the others will come around. And if they don't, we don't need them. We have a perfect family back in Seattle." Amelia looked into his eyes and sighed.

"How do you always know what to say?"

"Because I know you, and I can see the wheels turning in your brain, and I'm telling you to slow them down. Take a deep breath." She did and laid her head on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, you're always going to have everyone back home. Like you said, Scout deserves to have as much love around him as possible, and some people in your family might not be willing to give that, and we don't need that." He kissed her head and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"I'm glad I told them, though."

"You've still got a phone call to make," Link muttered. "Unless you want your mother to find out through Nancy."

"I know, I know. And, I'll do it." She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" Amelia looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you."

[harrygroves]

a simple favor -- chapter four

to chapter three

Billy’s been doing a damn fine job of avoiding all thoughts concerning Steve Harrington. It’s been a blissful, quiet week.

And now that week is up and hell is about to begin.

They’re in Billy’s Camaro, Steve insisted they take his car, and he’s been driving for almost three hours. Steve is fussing with the radio and fidgeting as they get closer and closer to his parents' summer home.

“Dude, you really need to chill out. You want some Xanax?” Billy offers.

“What? No, I don't want any -- why do you have Xanax?” Steve wrinkles his nose, arms crossed.

“I think you of all people would agree that life requires a little anesthesia every now and then.” Billy gives him a knowing look.

Steve looks like he wants to say something snotty so Billy turns up the radio as a way to deter him. Instead, Steve moodily stares out the window.

Billy lets him for a little while before reaching over and taking Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together. When Steve tenses up, Billy gives it a squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay babe.” Billy says soothingly but his snarky grin gives him away.

“God, I hate you so much.” Steve grumbles, but he doesn’t try to pull his hand away.

*

The summer house is actually a mansion. There’s a sprawling lawn in front of it, with trimmed hedges and a goddamn fountain. Billy wants to make so many jokes about silver spoons but he holds back because Steve looks like he’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, hey!” Billy says once they’re parked, reaching over and shaking Steve’s shoulder.

Steve looks back at him, like he forgot Billy was there. He’s pale and wide-eyed.

“Oh fuck.” Steve whispers. “Oh my god, oh my god, this is such a stupid idea. What the fuck am I doing, they’re going to see right through this -- ”

Look, Billy doesn’t want to kiss Steve.

Well, actually, that’s bullshit. He does want to kiss Steve but he doesn’t want to want to kiss Steve. It’s very distracting and he’s just in this for the money. The ten grand.

He’s been telling himself this for a week, like a daily affirmation.

However, Steve is freaking out, which is usually good for a laugh or two but Billy needs him to get his shit together so he takes Steve’s face in his hands and kisses him.

Steve is still trying to talk but the words get lost between them while Billy hums against his mouth, trying to be soothing and soft in hopes that it brings Steve out of his head. It works for a few seconds before Steve reaches up and puts one of his hands over Billy’s, which would almost be tender if Steve wasn’t trying to pull them off his face.

Billy lets him go and leans back. Steve is flushed and looks sad.

“Don't just...do that.” He mumbles.

Billy shrugs. “Kind of have to.” He grunts back, getting annoyed that Steve refuses to wrap his head around the thing he planned.

“Yeah, well…” Steve trails off. “Let’s go.”

They get out of the car and Billy grabs his bag from the backseat.

A girl their age with reddish-brown hair is running to them from the front door.

“Steve!” She yells and launches herself at him, wrapping him in a hug.

She babbles and laughs and smiles like Steve’s a goddamn prince.

“Should I be jealous?” Billy calls out to the pair.

Steve and Red Head look over at him.

“Oh, sorry, lost my head for a second. This is my sister, Robin.”

Sister, right. Steve had an older sister. Billy forgot about her, if he was being honest.

“Is this him?” Robin mumbles, but Billy can hear her just fine.

“Yes, uh. This is my...boyfriend, Billy Hargrove.” Steve says, smiling at Billy.

It’s too wide and his eyes are too bright. It’s the most human Billy has seen Steve look in weeks. It’s freaking him out.

Robin marches towards him and stretches out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Billy. Steve has told me absolutely nothing about you.” She says it with a bright smiles and zero hostility.

Billy shakes her hand and tries to give her a pleasant smile in return. “Yeah, Steve just wants me all to himself, ya know how he is.”

He doesn’t, he’s totally winging it but Robin laughs and Steve clears his throat.

“You guys must be tired and hungry, I’ll let you get settled. Mom and Dad will be on your asses enough at dinner, so why don't you guys go hide out for a while. I’ll keep them occupied once they’re back from the court.”

“Thanks Robin.” Steve says and gives her another hug. “See you later.”

Robin leaves them and Billy leans towards Steve.

“The court?” He asks.

“Tennis.” Steve replies.

*

Steve leads Billy through the house, past floor-to-ceiling windows and paintings that have to be original prints. A few people pass them, all wearing uniforms. Steve says hello to everyone pleasantly and Billy gives them tight smiles. They have fucking housekeepers. Servants. It’s so...rich. There’s a grand piano at the base of a giant staircase and Steve leads him up to the second floor, down halls littered with vases of flowers and tapestries.

“This is insane.” Billy hisses.

Steve shrugs. “It’s home.” He says it hollowly, like it is very much not a home.

They end up in a bedroom the size of Billy’s apartment. It’s got bookshelves built into the walls, armchairs in front of a fireplace, a walk-in closet where Billy drops his bag of clothes, it’s own bathroom and a giant LED television mounted on the wall.

There’s silver-framed pictures on the fireplace and nightstands beside the bed. Family photos, solo shots of Steve as a kid, in bowties with a bowl cut. Billy examines them all.

“Robin’s nice.” Billy says casually.

Steve’s sitting on his bed, which is huge, by the way and absently scrolling through his facebook feed.

“She’s great.” He agrees flatly.

Billy wonders if she is great.

“Facebook.” Steve mumbles.

“What?” Billy asks, looking at Steve.

“We...fuck, we don't have anything on facebook, about us.” Steve says, almost in horror.

Billy shrugs, walks over to join him. “So what? Not everything needs to be online. We can just say we’re one of those couples who don't showboat our love on the internet.”

Steve winces at Billy’s words and nervously chews on his lip. Billy grabs Steve’s phone.

“Hey!” Steve shouts at him, reaching for it.

“Knock it off, c’mon, Steve -- stop it.” Billy says, smacking his hand away. “This is going to work. But only if you calm down. Right now the only thing in our way is you. You’re getting too caught up in the details. Just chill out, hold my fucking hand, and give me a gross pet name and we’ll get through this.”

He says all this, direct eye-contact, no blinking. Steve is quiet for a second before taking a deep, belly-full breath and closing his eyes, making an O with his mouth and exhaling slowly. Once he opens his eyes, Billy gives him a nod. Steve nods back.

*

Meeting the parents at dinner is a stifling affair. Steve’s mom isn’t going out of her way in the slightest to hide how much she does not like Billy. She turns up her nose at his clothes, eyes his hair like Steve’s isn’t an unkempt mess and politely insults him wherever she can fit in a jab.

“Oh, beer. How perfectly simple. A simple man is good.”

“I like that car, Billy. Very rustic.”

“There’s something to be said about plain fabric. Some can be too cumbersome to care for, it’s nice for some things to be easy.”

Billy grins, toothy and fire-eyed, sneaking glances at Steve who is very interested in his salad.

Steve’s dad isn’t much better. He keeps going back and forth between glaring at Billy and scrunching his face together, like he’s scrutinizing.

“And where did you say you’re going to go to school?”

“How exactly did you meet my son?”

“What do your parents do for a living?”

Robin keeps trying to steer the conversation away from them but the parents aren’t having that.

“How long have you two been dating?” Mrs. Harrington asks during the fish course.

“Six months.” Steve says.

“Two years.” Billy says, at the exact same time.

There’s an awkward pause and Billy can practically hear Steve’s heart rate triple. Billy laughs and takes Steve’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“He was courting me for a lot longer than we’ve actually been together. All those fond memories, right, bunny?” Billy looks at Steve fondly.

Robin starts choking on something and has to thump at her chest to clear it up. “Bunny?” She croaks out.

Steve is bright red and staring at Billy with glassy eyes, probably seething but that just makes it more fun.

“Yes.” Steve blurts out, voice a bit high. “We, uh, I...really wanted...to be his boyfriend.”

Billy barrels onward. “He did that thing, with the boombox, stood outside my place till I let him in. It was so sweet.”

Robin is silent-laughing, and her eyes are starting to water. “I’m dying.” She says. “No seriously, I am fucking losing it over here.”

“They don't need all the details, sweetie.” Steve says in a syrupy voice.

“But the letter, I have to tell them about the letter.”

“No, no, I don't think so. That letter was just for you.” Steve says nervously.

“I would like to frame the letter.” Robin pipes in, struggling to drink water as her shoulders quake from laughter.

“So anyways,” Billy continues. “I finally just said, hey, let’s toss the guy a bone here,”

Robin is howling at this point.

“And he did, and we’ve been in love ever since.” Steve supplies quickly. “Now where is that next course, I am starving.”

He makes dagger-eyes at Billy who just takes his hand again and kisses Steve’s knuckles.

Once dessert and coffee have been consumed Steve gets to his feet.

“Well, we’re exhausted. Right, Billy?” He chirps.

“Sweetie, c’mon, how often am I going to get this kinda face-time with your parents? Shouldn’t we stay?”

He is hamming it up and Mrs. Harrington purses her mouth like the very thought is making her nauseous.

“Now, now. We’ll see them tomorrow morning.” Steve smiles back. “Let’s go to bed.”

Mr. Harrington coughs heartily into his napkin.

They bolt and hole-up in Steve’s room.

After changing into pajamas -- Steve changes in the closet -- they sit on the bed watching television and Billy waits for the inevitable.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Steve finally snaps during their second episode of Golden Girls.

“I never gave you any indication otherwise.” Billy shrugs.

“That was so embarrassing, making it seem like I pined for you.”

“Well we had to say something, Harrington, and you were doing that Bambi-in-the-headlights thing, so I just rolled with it.”

“You rolled with it alright, I can’t believe you said all that shit.”

Billy snaps. “Fine, Steve, then you come up with stuff. Stop acting like a kid who doesn't want to get in trouble otherwise we’re going to get caught. Be a fucking man.”

That shuts Steve up for a long time. When Golden Girls ends and The Nanny starts up, Steve gets up from the bed and goes into the closet.

He’s only gone for a few moments before emerging with beer, little bottles of alcohol, and a bag of individually-wrapped chocolates.

“What the -- ”

“There’s a mini-fridge in there.” Steve mumbles.

He gives Billy a beer, deposits the bottles in between them and starts unwrapping a chocolate.

Finally, Steve says, “I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Billy replies, cracking open a beer.

“I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re really not.”

“...I’ll try harder.”

“Good.” Billy replies, eyes never leaving the television.

There’s this weird tension between them and it lasts for a little bit until Billy is so uncomfortable he has to say something.

“Dinner was...something.”

“Told you.” Steve grunts.

“Man, I don't know which one hated me more.”

“Mom, for sure. She loathes people who don't own at least three boats.”

“Damn, and I just have the one.” Billy deadpans.

Steve grins, actually grins, before he catches himself and pops another chocolate.

“This is like a fucking hotel.” Billy says, grabbing for a bottle.

“I learned very quickly growing up that the less time I have to spend outside this room, the better.” Steve says.

“I want to make so many ‘princess locked in an ivy tower’ jokes right now.” Billy says seriously.

“Shut up.” Steve snaps. “And it’s ivory, dumbass.”

Billy chuckles and drains one of the mini-bottles. “So, we’re essentially trapped in here, is that what you’re saying?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, we can go do whatever you want. There’s a couple libraries, an indoor pool, I actually convinced them to make a bowling alley in the basement.”

“You have a fucking bowling alley?” Billy asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, it was a birthday gift when I was, like, twelve.”

“Jesus christ, Steve.”

“Yeah, but we run the risk of dealing with them,” Steve’s parents, “So, ya know, wage your bets.”

Billy whistles. “Wow, you really don't like them.”

“No, I really do not.” Steve mumbles, eating another chocolate.

“So I gotta ask. Why me?” Billy opens another mini-bottle of vodka.

Steve looks away from the television, eyes Billy, then resumes watching. “You already asked that.” He points out.

“Yeah, but like, you could’ve found someone on Craigslist, like a lot of lonely losers do.”

“Wow, when you put it like that?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Like I said, it was a matter of convenience.”

Billy puts a hand over his heart and pretends to swoon. “I love it when men say that to me.”

Steve throws a handful of chocolate wrappers at him.

Billy grins. “Okay, so really though, what are we going to do tomorrow?”

Steve contemplates this for a moment.

“Ever been horse-back riding?”

part five

[florenceandthemachine]

hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

[bellisperennis0]

Secrets

Word Count: 1,728

Warnings: Slight smut (If you squint hard enough) Mention of Oral Sex - Female receiving, Language, Violence

A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! ❤️

-----------------------------------

The night gave way to the day, and your fading dreams were running havoc with your center. Your sex pulsed with lust and you squirmed to increase the friction. A warm weight pressed down on your stomach as the building need to cum pulled you further from your groggy state. You catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror, and was shocked to find Coco planted face deep in your center.

“Good Morning, querida,” Coco removed his tongue then kissed your thigh. “You were moaning so fucking loud, that I just had to join you.”

You chuckled as your fingers ran through his long locks, “I’m a lucky woman to have such a thoughtful boyfriend.” You graced him with a lopsided smile.

“Oh no querida, I’m the fucking lucky one.” He answered, giving you a smirk before attaching his lips with a newfound vigor.

“FUCK,” you screamed out as you found your release, thighs tightening around Coco’s head as the coil in your belly snapped and your limbs trembled as the waves of pleasure rushed over you. Once you came back to yourself, Coco made his way up your body, making sure to kiss every inch of you.

He brought his face back to yours as he looked in your eyes, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. Closing your eyes you lean into his touch, placing a gentle kiss to his wrist. “I love you,” he tells you placing a kiss to your nose. “I. Love. You.” You punctuated each word with a kiss to his lips. A smile ghosted over his features. Chuckling softly, Coco drew you even closer, “What you say we finish this in the shower?” he flashes you a mischievous smile.

After a couple more rounds in the shower with Coco, you change and head to the kitchen to make some breakfast. You startle when you round the corner into the kitchen to find Letty sitting on the counter eating a bowl of cereal. You both stare at each other unsure of what to do. She jumps off the counter, “I knew it, you and my Dad are hooking up!” She says with a smile on her face. “I- uh – um –“ you stumble on what to say, just then Coco comes walking into the kitchen. “Leticia!?” he says, you can hear the surprise in his voice.

“So does Taza know about this?” she says teasing. “No and you aren’t going to say a word.” Coco says with a stern voice, pouring him and you a cup of coffee. “Ooo, you know he’s going to kill you when he finds out, right?” she continues to give Coco a hard time. “I’m aware Letty, that’s why he isn’t going to find out till me or y/n tell him.” Coco says as he leans against the kitchen counter. “So how long have you two been hooking up?” she asks and you and Coco just look at each other. “Wait! You two aren’t just hooking up, you’re dating?” surprise all in her voice. “If you must know, Letty, yes we’ve been dating for the last few months.” Coco tells her. “Does this mean I have a new Mommy!?” she practically squeals making you chuckle and Coco nearly choke on his coffee.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Coco asks, getting annoyed with Letty’s teasing. “Lucky for you, yes I do.” She says grabbing her bags off the table. “I’m going to spend the day with Gabi.” She says as she goes and gives Coco a hug and kiss. “Have fun” Coco tells her as she walks up to you and gives you a hug. “I’m glad you’re my new mommy.” She says and you can’t help but laugh. “Get out of here!”

Later that day you found yourself at the Clubhouse, it was Angel’s Birthday and the Clubhouse was rowdier then normal. You were currently sitting at the bar, enjoying your drink, when out of the corner of your eye you can see one of the men from another charter eyeing you as he walks your way. You have seen and felt him staring at you all night since he arrived. Looking around the crowded clubhouse you look to see if any of the members were still around; you found your Uncle Che and Bishop sitting at the opposite end of the club, everyone else either busy with a hang around or outside enjoying the fight currently going on in the ring.

Grabbing your drink, you moved to turn around but couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your throat as you felt a man’s arm wrap around you, pinning you between him and the bar. His arm pulled you closer, so your back was pressed against chest, his hand traveling down your hips, pulling you flush against him. “What do you say we get out of here, preciosa?” You cringe as you could feel the man’s pungent breath against your ear as he whispered. “Think it’s in your best interest to let me go.” You whisper to the man, grabbing his hand that was way too close to your center for your liking. Only one man had access to that and he was not that man. “Oh yeah, preciosa, why is that?” he asked as his nose caressed your cheek, his hand running up your torso, squeezing at your breast.  “Because my boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate you all up on what is his.” The man chuckles, “I haven’t seen you with a man all night, preciosa, don’t be fucking lying to me!” the man’s grip tightening around you as his frustration grew.

From across the bar Coco watched as the man moved towards your direction, standing too close for his liking. He felt his jaw clench and his grip on his beer tighten. Coco knew you were tough and that you pride yourself on being independent, but when this strange man wrapped his arm around your waist his patience was gone. Slamming his beer on the poker table, Angel watched in confusion as Coco shoved his way through the crowd of people towards you. Angel’s eyes scanned the clubhouse till they landed on you at the bar with your unwanted company, muttering a ‘fuck’ under his breath before he chased after Coco.

The more you struggled in this man’s arms, his grip got tighter and his words got more threatening. Trying your best to make eye contact with any of the members, you couldn’t see any one around, and the way he had you pinned in between him and the bar, you couldn’t see the poker tables, were you knew a few of the guys were sitting. You attempted to plea with the man to release you, as he just chuckles.

“Hey asshole,” a sigh of relief left your mouth as you heard Coco’s voice come from behind you.

The man dropped his hold on you, and turned around, “Who the fuck are you calling --“ he started, but was cut off by Coco’s fist connecting with his jaw. You stepped back as Coco tackled the man to the floor, delivering blows to this man’s face.

Angel was quick on the scene, reaching down and pulling Coco off of the stranger, who was grabbing at his bleeding nose, Coco still trying to swing at the man. “Alright Connor McGregor, calmate (calm down).” Angel told Coco. Coco reached for you, taking you into his arm. “You alright?” he whispered into your hair. “I’m fine!” you tell him. Just then you pull away from Coco as you hear Bishop’s voice boom through the room. “The fuck is going on here?”

“You need to educate your men, El Presidente.” The man says in a mocking voice, as he gets up to his feet. “Your boy just punched the shit out of me for trying to get some pussy from a fucking hang around.” You watched as Taza walked from behind Bishop and up to the man, punching him in the face. “She isn’t some fucking hang around, she’s family.” Taza says leaning down to get in the man’s face. “Get this piece of shit out of here.” Bishop orders as some of the other members take him outside.

“Are you okay?” Taza asks as he cups your face in his hand, pulling you in to place a kiss to your forehead. “I’m fine, Uncle Che.” After the altercation, most of the clubhouse had cleared out, everyone heading outside. You watched as Taza’s eyes went from you to Coco and then down to where your hands intertwined. “Something we need to know?” he asks you and Coco. Coco takes a step forward, stepping up to Taza. “Yeah, actually there is.” He speaks up. “I’m listening.” Taza says his gaze never leaving Coco. “I’ve been seeing y/n for the past five months. Look you can yell at me all you want, but that’s not going to change the fact that I love her, and I’ll do anything for her.” You smiled at Coco’s words, but that quickly faded once you got a glance at the stern look on your Uncle’s face. You bit at your lower lip, unsure of which way this conversation was going to go. “It’s about fucking time you admitted it.” You hear your Uncle say. Furrowing your brows you take a step forward to stand next to Coco, who instinctively takes your hand. “Wait!? You knew didn’t you?” you ask him, him and Bishop both chuckling. “Angel let it slip when he found you two getting all hot and heavy in EZ’s trailer, a couple weeks ago.” Bishop admits. “I was just curious as to how long you two could hide this from everyone. Gotta say, I’m impressed.” Taza says smiling.

“So you okay with this?” you ask. “Break her heart Cruz, and I will gauge your eyes out myself, cut you into pieces, bury you in a fucking hole and piss in it.” Taza says as he gives Coco’s shoulder a squeeze and making his way outside. “Sssooo….I’ll take that as a yes?!” You say looking up at Coco, he just looks at you and laughs. You chuckle as you wrap your arms around Coco’s waist, resting your head on his chest. Coco presses a kiss to your head and pulls you closer against him. “I love you.” You tell him. “I love you, mi vida.”

-xx

[rainecreatesstuff]

LAMP Soulmate AU Bulletfic thing

Word Count: 2569

TW: Mentions and implications of abuse, mentions of anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks, mentions and implications of death + illness

They’re all connected in different ways

Virgil is connected to Patton through that thing where marks on your soulmate’s skin appear of yours too

Roman through a thing where on your eleventh birthday at 11:11pm a name will pop into your head and wow its your soulmate’s

And Logan through the string thing

Roman is connected to Patton through a timer on his wrist

And Logan through a tattoo-like mark on your wrist that says your soulmate’s first words to you

Logan and Patton are connected through a soulmark (A tattoo or raised pattern on your skin that is also on your soulmate)

Patton is blind

so in this au different soulmarkers develop at different ages

So when V’s little he’s super excited to meet his sm, bc his parents are soulmates and everything he’s seen abt them is so sweet and exciting!

He turns six and doesn’t develop a timer, which is what he was hoping for

But that’s ok! There are tons of other soulmarkers!

And then he doesn’t develop a soulmark when he’s seven

Or a sentence on his wrist when he’s eight

And he can see colours

So he’s starting to get nervous

And hey! Mom’s sick, and in the hospital, and she’s just not doing too swell

But then when he turns nine, a beautiful red string has been tied around his ring finger when he wakes up!

And wow! Mom look, I have a soulmate! Just like you and daddy!

And then a few months later he’s doing his homework at the kitchen table and the string goes limp before shriveling up and turning black

The doctors have no explanation, and V’s anxiety has really started to kick in

Mom doesn’t seem to be getting better either

So when he turns ten, he is fully aware that this is probably his last chance to develop a soulmarker

He writes on his forearm the night before his birthday

It says “Hey, I’m V! I guess we’re soulmates?”

When he wakes up there’s nothing new

Which is fine! Because that means his sm is probably in the same time zone as him!

But then he keeps waiting and

Nothing

Nothing for a week.

Eventually his dad convinces him to wash it off

Then on his eleventh birthday he knows how uncommon a soulname connection is, but he needs to try

So it’s 11:10 and he’s sitting at his desk with a marker ready to write it down and then-

Roman Prince

Roman prince? What do you mean Roman prince? That’s not a name! What the hell?!

So he’s really sad and anxious and stuff because he doesn’t have a soulmate and, yknow, that’s kinda upsetting for him

And hey, your mom really isn’t doing too well, we have to visit her after school, okay?

At first Virgil doesn’t understand why mom’s being so dramatic or why she keeps telling him she loves him

Then it hits him

And now he’s sobbing and hugging her and shaking and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe

Fun fact! Turns out this is a regular thing and he has really bad anxiety.

And mom has been put in a medically induced coma

So a year later dad decides to pull the plug

Virgil’s anxiety has gotten really bad

He’s just not in a good place

High school goes by without much happening

Now he’s going to university! How exciting and stressful!

Roman, too, was entranced by the idea of soulmates. His parents aren’t soulmates, but they encourage his excitement about them!

And when he turns six, he develops a timer on his wrist! Score! What a romantic way to meet the love of your life!

Or friend of your life

His moms are so excited for him! They get him new paints and take him out to dinner to celebrate.

And then he wakes up on his eighth birthday to words on his right wrist

It says “If you could stop talking, it would be vastly appreciated.”

He’s a little pissed

His moms take him to the doctor bc “wtf why does he have TWO soulmarkers?!”

The answer is that he has two soulmates

It’s uncommon, but possible

So while he is ecstatic and ready to parade his soulmarkers around the school, his moms are a little less happy and a little more worried

They may have made the suggestion that he wears long sleeves most days, those ones that he hates because they will not roll up

But he did what they asked because they’re his moms, and he loves them very much

And then a few years later on his birthday he’s typing up a short story for school

It’s due the next day so he’s rushing through it a little bit

It’s still amazing

But anyways, he’s writing, and he suddenly just gets the name “Virgil Miller” stuck in his head

He doesn’t think anything of it bc he’s writing and that’s normal

He ends up naming the main character Virgil 

Logan grows up in a bit of a run-down part of town

His Mami and Dad are soulmates (he doesn’t think they should be)

They fight a lot, and sometimes Dad’ll hurt Mami, especially at night when they think he’s asleep

And he’s heard Mami on the phone with his Tia, talking about court cases? And laws, and soulmates?

Needless to say, he isn’t all too enamoured with the idea of soulmates

When he’s seven he gets a soulmark, some bumps over his heart, which is a little distressing

He’s never met this person, but he’s supposed to spend his whole life with them?

He’s very scared that his soulmate will be like Dad

And then he develops the words “Bold of you to assume I can stop talking” on his right wrist

And then a string when he’s nine.

He doesn’t tell his parents about any of them. “Soulless” people existed, and he knew his Mami was hoping he was one of them.

And then later that year Mami sits him down and tells him that she’s going to live with his Tia until she can find her own apartment, and that she and Dad aren’t together anymore

Logan cries for a while, and tells her about all the things he’s heard, and the bruises he’s seen, and begs to go with her

Mami says she was hoping he would

His Dad finds out the day before they leave and he hits Logan

Multiple times

And when his Mami steps in, Dad scowls and yells and stomps away and Mami picks Logan up and they run to the car and leave

When they get to his Tia’s he hides in the guest bedroom they said is his and he takes a pair of scissors and

Snip snip, he’s 33% more “soulless”

He steals Mami’s concealer and puts it on his wrist everyday to cover the words there

The only one he doesn’t cover is the soulmark on his chest, which he almost never sees because of his shirt

Whenever anyone asks, he just tells them he’s soulless

He tries not to get too close to people, but he usually fails and so he has a very small, very tight friend group 

Oh also he’s a grade ahead of his year

Patton’s family is very well off

He’s the oldest of four brothers

He’s trans, but his family is v supportive and helped him transition as soon as they found out

His service dog’s name is Cookie and she’s a golden retriever

He’s had her since he was eleven, and he loves her very much

Because he’s blind there’s certain things he didn’t know about growing up

For example, nobody told him about soulmates until he was nine

Which really explains the weird ticking he hears every once in a while, as well as the strange, tiny bumps on his chest (which spell out “Loved” in Braille)

He doesn’t think about it too often, but he’d be lying if the idea didn’t entrance him

He didn’t think he’d ever meet his soulmates, though, and if he did, he wasn’t sure they’d want the responsibility of a blind soulmate

On the day he turns ten, there’s this little tickling on his forearm, like butterflies gently taking off on him

He doesn’t really think anything of it, though

Despite being blind, Patton is super capable

He can’t cook by himself, but if he’s supervised he does a really good job. He’s the most prepared for “real life” out of his siblings, which is strange, considering he’s the oldest

He goes to public school, where most kids are really nice (sometimes antagonistically nice), but there were also some rude kids

“You don’t really need that walking stick, you’ve got a dog, and we need it to play our game!”

The amount of times he’s had to explain that no you dumbass I do still need the stick is ridiculous

But he keeps a smile on his face and forges through it

And then in grade eleven Roman’s studying in the hallway when he sees some kid being bullied

Well, not bullied, but definitely teased. Something was wrong, anyways

He’s been on edge all day because his timer keeps going down

But he’s not really thinking about it rn

So he goes over and gets the idiots to leave and

Holy hell did heaven drop an angel? They must have, because look at this boy with his golden hair and tanned skin and freckles and

Beep beep motherfucker. It’s soulmate o’clock

And Roman is just so happy

“H-hey, I’m Roman!” “Oh, hi, I’m Patton! Did... did your timer go off?” “Uh yeah! It did!”

And Patton

Just grins so wide and there’s tears, and he leaps up and hugs Roman so tight

And Roman is so freaking happy!!!! He asks Patton for his contact because duh and Pat’s like

“Uhhh well I can’t text”

“Why?”

“..... I’m blind?” “OHHHHHHH”

So they figure they can talk over the phone because Patton does have a phone for calling

So they have a cute first date and they fall in love and everything’s good and dandy and Roman’s going to college but Patton’s found this real nifty job that just so happens to be right next to Roman’s college so they move in together and Patton knows about Roman’s other sm and Roman knows about Patton’s other sm

And Roman’s in a lecture now

And he didn’t really notice but he’s been muttering

And he’s just kinda sitting there when he hears it from the guy next to him

So he looks up and here’s this ethereal looking dude with gorgeous brown eyes and dark hair and

“Bold of you to assume I can stop talking.”

He curses every known god for making his first words to his soulmate be a meme

They excuse themselves from class because holy shit

And Logan introduces himself shakily

And Roman asks for his number

And they go on a date where Roman tells him about Patton and Logan mentions having a soulmark over his heart

Logan is really hesitant to join their relationship bc he was hoping he would never meet his soulmates

So they don’t put a label on it right away

But they go on a few dates and hang out a bunch and Logan realizes that he actually really, really likes these guys and he doesn’t really want to live the rest of his life without them

So he talks to them and tells them about some of the stuff that happened when he was a kid

Roman and Patton are horrified but they hug him and promise that they will never lay a finger on him if he asks them not to 

And Logan just has a moment of “These guys love me. Like actually love me. And want me to be happy. And I think I feel the same?” 

So on their next date Logan asks both of them to be his boyfriends and obviously they say yes

And basically they’re just all really in love

They move into a bigger apartment together at the beginning of year two

So then they’re all cuddling one day when Logan tells them about his string

And so the other two are like “oh shit is there another???”

And Roman says that on his eleventh birthday he just suddenly had this name pop into his head but he just assumed he’d wanted the name for a character so

And Patton says that after getting his soulmark AND a timer he didn’t think to check for anything else

So they’re all kinda like well whoops let’s hope we still meet them!

And Patton’s at his job one day when this guy walks in and he’s one of the new employees

Pat’s got his seeing eye doggo with him but the vest is off cuz they’re both on break

And so V’s like “oh cool dog can I pet him?”

Bc usually he would never just go up and ask but he literally can’t stop himself because here’s this adorable dude in front of him and the universe is screeching at him to say hi

And Pat hears his voice and immediately falls in love

“Oh, yea sure! She’s my eye dog, but she’s on break so it’s all good!”

And V meets Pat and his dog

And they end up exchanging numbers because they are coworkers and well

Yknow

So a couple days later, after him and Patton have been talking a lot, Pat invites him over

So V goes over and meets Roman and Logan

And he hears Roman’s name and

Holy shit

And of course Roman is also freaking out because the name Virgil just really hasn’t left his head since he thought of it

So yknow

Logan’s a little unsure, but then the two get talking about astronomy and he doesn’t care if they’re not soulmates he is going to marry this guy

And they all get really close really fast

And then one day Virgil offhandedly mentions the string thing

And Logan freezes and just

Shows V his right ring finger, where they can both see this rotting string that’s still tied tight around it and

Fuck V can’t breathe are you kidding? right now?

So they help ground him, and Logan explains everything

And Roman tells him what’s up

But they’re not really sure how he’s connected to Patton but then he just

Grabs a marker and draws a heart on his hand and

It’s right there on Patton’s hand holy s h i t

So they take Virgil on a date and stuff and they make it official

And Virgil’s a little nervous bc like those three have been together for a while now and he feels like he’s intruding

But he talks to Logan and L understands bc Roman and Patton had been dating for 2+ years when he found them

He promises that V is not intruding and that they all really love him

And Virgil just full on starts crying because he hasn’t felt this loved since before his mom died and he loves his bfs so much

They find their bfs and just cuddle all night

Virgil moves in with the rest of them at the beginning of third year 

They get their happily ever after for the most part

Hopefully y’all liked this! I think I’ll be posting more writing on here, bc I have TONS of wips stacked up in a google docs and I’d like to get them out of there lmao

[thestarswhim]

MK needs some rest

Summary: “Look, kid, using that much power, your body can’t handle it.” 

In which MK didn’t fully recover his strength after the Macaque and DBK situation, and is really trying hard to push through, anyway.

Thankfully, Monkey King intervenes.

Words: 3360 

Notes: Has descriptions of anxiety and stress. Since this is in MK’s perspective, Wukong will just be referred as Monkey King throughout the whole fic, but if I end up writing this in Wukong’s perspective as well, that’ll change, or go back and forth between “Monkey King” and “Wukong,” to fit his own perspective. 

Enjoy! :D 

MK woke up feeling… tired, to put it simply. It had been like this for the past week, and no matter how much rest he got, even when he slept for ten hours given the chance, nothing elevated the hazy daze he felt himself constantly being in. It started after his “training” with Macaque and the fight with the Demon Bull King, and only got worse since then. Maybe that just drained his energy a bit more than usual. Yeah, that made sense, being more exhausted could happen to anyone.

He was doing work just fine, though Pigsy had to yell more and even louder to get his full attention every once in a while, and he may have had missed a few stops while delivering noodles (and had also, probably, dropped more than one bowl when cleaning up the shop. Pigsy was definitely going to take that out of his next paycheck). Then, when he and Mei would hang out and do their usual arcade/porty — party; he meant party — fun, he would zone out for a moment and stare blankly at nothing, lost in thoughts and memories that Mei had to quickly snap him out of. What were those thoughts and memories? … That didn’t matter. He was fine. His friends and family were fine. The city was filled with high energy and bustled with life. Nothing was wrong for now. Everything was fine. He was fine. And tired. Gosh, he was so tired— Anyway— After that, he would go home, with his feet being dragged on the floor by this point, and head straight to bed, not even bothering to change his clothes, or brush his teeth, or do anything. He just let the overwhelming weight of exhaustion that was seeping all the way into his bones to finally pull him into the state of unconsciousness. The dreams that he could barely make out left him shaken in the morning, and, of course, he felt like he never slept in the first place. He groaned in his pillow, fighting the tears of frustration that pushed at his eyes from leaking out. 

It was a constant cycle, a routine, and the fact that no major threats had happened ever since the fight didn't make him feel any better. But, that could be the sleep deprivation — if he was sleep deprived because he did sleep — talking. 

Today he was supposed to train with Monkey King who throughout the weeks would make him do the smallest of chores, up to the point where he only had to sweep the floor…? He was doing that on purpose, MK knew that much, because where was the life lesson for sweeping the floor? But, all his mentor would say was, "It's never a bad thing to take it easy once in a while," and that was that. 

It had been a long day (again) before he finally got to the mountain, the energy he had left already drained and gone, but he was fine. After all, maybe he'd just have to watch paint dry this time. Okay, nevermind, that sounded excruciating and so much worse. “Welcome back!” Monkey King greeted casually, snapping MK back into the present. He blinked. When did he walk over to the cavern? 

“Hey…” he greeted back distantly and started to become more and more aware of his surroundings as he looked around, stopping at the sight of Monkey King who jumped off the cloud he always laid on. “So, uh,” he shook his head to regain focus again which he quickly regretted when he got light-headed by the simple action. And now there were small dots in his vision. Great, just what he needed. “What—” he subconsciously rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, “what are we doing today— ah!” Monkey King was now in front of him, no warning or any indication that he walked closer at all, and eyed him carefully, brows creased. Before MK could say anything, two hands gently cupped his face and started to move his head around slowly from side to side as a way to examine him. He sucked in a quiet breath from the sudden contact, and had the urge to lean into the warmth the hands were giving off, but stopped himself since he would probably fall over. “You doing okay, bud?” Monkey King asked as softly as he could make his voice be. The kid attempted to nod enthusiastically, but it came out rigid beneath the palm of his hands. “Yup. It’s been a long day, ‘s all,” MK mumbled, though to himself he said that at normal volume. “Really now?” The hands then left MK’s face which apparently were supporting him since he did almost fall over regardless, setting a foot down in front of him to stop that from happening. “Well, there isn’t really much to do today… but you are staying over.” That brought his attention back. He looked up towards his mentor and raised a brow. “Wait, what?” “You’ll be spending the night,” Monkey King explained. “It’ll be for, you know,” he shoved a peach chip in his mouth, “training.” “I feel like you’re starting to use that as an excuse…” “Ehh, no. You’ll learn something from this,” and, again, that was that.

Despite MK’s mind running like a phone on save battery mode right now, a new energy seemed to gradually rise within him as he took a minute to actually process the situation. Would this technically be a sleepover? Having a sleepover with the Monkey King? How many people could say that? His excitement might be muddled by fatigue, but he was still excited! It was just…

“What are we going to do, then?” “First off,” Monkey King put a bag of the peach chips in MK’s hands, “you should eat something. I also got some of the instant noodles you could snack on later.” He stared down at the bag, making him realize that his appetite wasn't really apparent, and inwardly cringed. He hadn’t actually eaten much at all the last few days, only ever having a few dumplings or a bowl of noodles Pigsy would try to make him attempt to eat during break (he could never finish the noodles, though). You’d think he would be starving by how tired he had been, but nope. “I think I’m good for now. I’ll… eat later.” Monkey King looked at him for a moment once more, searching for something, and then hummed thoughtfully. “Okay.” MK let out a breath of relief, and his body slightly untensed. He didn’t think he could stomach anything right now. 

“Let’s get watching!” Monkey King announced, carefully taking a hold of MK’s arm, and guiding him over to his house. “Hope you’re a binge-watcher ‘cause it’s a pretty long series. I mean, I’m in it, afterall, so of course it is.” MK let his teacher guide him, not trying to pay any mind to the fact that his legs were basically all sloshy and almost numb, and that Monkey King was holding onto him in the first place. That was new. But, they’re going to be binge-watching? … 

Thank. Goodness. “Oh, yeah,” MK waved his hand dismissively as if there was no question needed, “I definitely am! Mei and I stayed up for two days straight one time watching this weird sci-fi movie series. Something to do with a guy named Jim? I don’t know, it was weird.” “Nice! One time I stayed up for about a month straight watching… literally anything.” What!? How was he even still ali— oh, right. Geez, his brain… and was he seeing everything in slow motion now, or…?  

And now he was sitting on the couch. … Huh? When did they—? What? He rubbed at his eyes like it would help the dysfunction his state of mind was in, and blinked. Monkey King was turning on the TV in front of MK, and then went over to the couch and sat down next to him. His expression looked… odd for some reason? It wasn’t anger, but he did seem more serious (or was that concern?) compared to how he was moments prior, like something was bothering him. Did something happen? The weird expression instantly changed when he looked over to MK, his smile once again apparent. “There you are, kid. I was worried for a sec there. You, like, totally spaced out on me when I was talking to you.” 

“Oh, uh,” MK instinctively rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, “sorry about that. It’s been a long day.” Didn’t he already say that? He noticed Monkey King’s tail slightly twitch. “Right, right. Good thing we’re taking it easy today.” “‘Cause this is definitely training,” he thought— he said that out loud. “Exactly!” Monkey King then put a hand to MK’s chest and lightly pushed him further into the couch. “Now relax. You’re stiff as a board right now.” MK got sort of surprised by how easy it was for him to be pushed with such minimal force. You could poke him and he would probably go falling instantly. Hopefully, he didn’t feel even worse in the morning. He really, really hoped. This unnerving sensation swelled in his lungs and buzzed throughout his head as he thought of the possibilities of an enemy showing up while he was still like this, or not being able to do his job right at the shop and even as a hero, or be there for anybody, or— 

There was a sudden pressure on the top of his head. He inwardly gasped and snapped his head toward the source. 

It was one of the monkeys from the mountain. 

“Oh,” was all he could breathe out as a few more showed up, one of them resting on Monkey King’s abdomen. The monkey on his head slid off to sit on the couch as well. MK looked back over to the TV when the first episode was starting, and actually tried to relax. It was the Monkey King animated series, he could totally focus on it no problem. ~~~

What was strange was that Monkey King had barely been saying anything while they watched. Maybe a few comments here and there, but other than that, nothing more. MK would have said something, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He didn’t even know what episode they were on. The daze he was still in was even more heavy and dragging, his vision getting hazy as he stared at the screen. The monkey was still on the couch, and MK just realized he had been petting them this whole time. 

He felt like he was about to pass out at any moment, he wanted to pass out. But, something in him was saying not to. That if he were to fall asleep now, something, someone, out there would attack. But who? Ugh, why couldn’t he just calm down, and not think dumb thoughts! Everything was fine! Everything was… fine. “White Bone Spirit…” MK froze. His eyes instantly stayed locked on the TV, blocking out all his surroundings. The person on the screen was talking to the group, but the blood pounding in his ears wouldn't let him hear any of the words that were coming out of their mouth. He didn't recognize the name, but something wasn't right. Their white, pure hair, and those eyes. It was like they were staring right at him. Mockingly. 

His entire body went ice cold. and he most likely even stopped breathing, but he didn't notice, he didn't care. He had to do something. Now. 

"Hey," MK squeaked out, immediately on his feet. "Monkey King? Shouldn't— shouldn't we do some training?" His heart wouldn't stop racing, and his hands and legs became numb. He couldn't feel anything. Too many thoughts were flooding his mind, someone dangerous was out there, and if they wasted any more time...

Monkey King looked up at him, still sitting down. His tail twitched again. "I think it's getting a little late for the kind of training you're thinking of. You got work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I haven't been doing anything for almost two weeks!" MK didn't mean to shout, but his nerves were on end, and they were wasting more time. "Don't you think it's strange that nothing has been happening?" 

"Well, yeah, but," Monkey King shifted in his seat, "we can't do much until something does happen." 

"Except maybe train?" 

Monkey King's face had that bothered expression again. He sighed. "Kid, I don't want you pushing yourself anymore than you already have." 

MK formed his hands into fists, tightening them as flashes of purple shadows and blue whispers swept over his mind like a fog, and tried to keep his legs from giving out. "Someone's out there! Uh, maybe. I don't know, but we have to at least do something!" 

"...Hey—"

“Because—” MK’s lungs were burning from his now ragged breathing, his mind was spinning, and he barely comprehend that he interrupted his mentor. Tears were starting to form in his eyes. "Because if I'm not ready, then I won’t be good enough, and then everyone will get hurt, and it will all be my fault— “ “Xiaotian.” MK instantly stopped, nothing but his harsh breaths breaking the weird, sudden silence that fell over them. The TV had been long turned off, apparently. Monkey King grabbed his arm again, even more gentler this time, and continued talking. “You’re shaking. Breathe.” He was easily pulled down back on the couch, and Monkey King repositioned himself so he could start… combing through MK’s hair? 

It was so careful and… comforting. Strangely, that was what made the tears fall down, one by one, and MK quickly tried to wipe them away. It was like this for a while. Quiet, but a peaceful quiet, except for the hushed sobbing that echoed the room— and when did he start sobbing? 

“It’s okay,” Monkey King said, petting his head with a nice, steady rhythm. “You’re safe.”

MK took in slow breaths, now attempting to do what he was told before. He was surprised how he hadn't completely passed out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He was comfortable, and it had been too long (way too long than he had liked) since he truly felt that way. 

After his breathing settled down, and he could, well, breathe again, Monkey King decided to speak up. 

"Remember when I told you about using too much of your power?" 

MK nodded, slowly, the reminder causing certain flashbacks that he had to shake away again. 

"Well," he continued, grooming MK's hair more than petting it now, "it really wore you out, and I'm sure you know that," he chuckled the last few words with a tried effort. "You didn't fully recover by the time you had to go and basically fight again. Literally, once you came back, you were thrown into the prey." 

"Wait," MK turned his head toward the monkey with narrowed eyes, "so you do still watch me." 

He noticed Monkey King's eyes widen before he could cover it up with a side glance. "I… not all the time, no. I just wanted to keep an eye on you for a while." He flicked a piece of dirt that was in MK's hair away. 

"Okay…" 

"Seriously." 

"Mhm…" 

Monkey King ruffled his hair and laughed. It was so genuine that MK couldn't help but laugh as well, causing a weight to be lifted off his shoulders, and, wow, was he really feeling the exhaustion hitting him now. 

"Anyway," back to the grooming he went, "that's why I was making you take it easy. You need a break so you can fully recover all of your strength which will help you for whatever danger might be out there. It's not always about the physical, you gotta focus on what's inside, too. We'll get to the 'fun' training stuff later, okay?" 

"'Kay," MK mumbled, already slipping into a sleepy-like trance. If he had anything else to say, or worry about, he forgot; his eyes closed, and the welcoming blanket of rest enveloped him. Monkey King was saying something, but he sounded too muffled and far away.

The dreams never showed up that night, and he no longer was shaking.

~~~

“Kid!”

He woke up to his nose being pinched, and yelped. His vision only made out colorful blobs that apparently represented someone. “What happened?”

The blob cleared his throat in a failed attempt to hold in a snicker. “Nothing much,” he then shrugged, “except you’ll be late to work in a few minutes, so…” “What!?” MK shot up from the couch and started running straight to the door, everything becoming clearer in his sight of panic. “Oh my gosh, Pigsy’s gonna fire me!” Would he even be able to make it in time? Where would he end up staying once he was fired? Would he be replaced by that delivery bot? No, no, no, no! Definitely not! His hand was already on the doorknob by the time Monkey King appeared right behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, wait! Slow down. How are you feeling?” MK turned around and started to run in place. “Fine, I guess! But, I have to—” His eyes widened as he realized and stopped his eager bouncing. “I… feel great, actually.” Huh. Monkey King’s eyes lit up, and his smile grew just a bit wider. “Good! Now,” he wrapped an arm around MK, “do you need a ride?”  

“...What?”

~~~ After Monkey King shoved the bag of peach chips in MK’s hands again to which he devoured in a surprising matter of seconds, they were now both up in the sky. MK’s hair was flying back as the crisp air of the morning blew on his face, his arms tightly around Monkey King’s torso as they rode along on his cloud. He wasn’t sure how fast they were going, but his face felt numb, so that must have meant something. “I might just have to teach you how to ride this thing soon!” Monkey King yelled, his voice cutting through the rush of wind… somehow.

“That’d be awesome!” He could ride his board with ease, flying a cloud would just be an upgrade. A very, very awesome upgrade. It was hard to talk, though, and close his mouth no less. Ew, what if he swallowed a bug? 

Not even a few minutes went by before they were nearing the shop, and MK couldn’t stop grinning when he jumped off safely onto the concrete ground. He wasn’t going to be late!

He spun around to face the Monkey King, who was still standing easily balanced on the cloud with his arms crossed, and waved. “Thanks, Monkey King! For, well, yesterday, and taking me here!” “Anytime, bud.” He hovered over and swiftly fixed up MK’s hair which was all over the place by the wind. “Try to eat something more on your break if you can, and remember,” he gave him one more pat on the shoulder, the features of his face softening, “one step at a time, all right?”

The way Monkey King had been grooming his hair during this time, and how casually he did it, too, like this was something he’d always done, that there was nothing wrong with showing this kind of… affection(?), made MK feel overwhelmed with a certain emotion he couldn't describe. Tears were wanting to well up again for some odd reason, but he smiled and nodded, holding it down.

Monkey King smiled back and proceeded to go on his way into the sky, leaving a gust of wind in his absence. 

MK stood there, watching him take off before shaking his head to regain focus, and jogged over to the entrance of the shop. As the door chimed opened, a new sense of determination rose up within him; a new surge of energy buzzed throughout his body. And even though he still had an uneasy feeling, he knew — and he actually believed it this time — that despite whatever could happen…

Everything was fine.

~~~

Notes: This took me weeks to finish, but ayyyye! I love me some of that Hurt/Comfort, and the boy really needs it (especially with what might happen in season 2 OHOHO BOY). While writing this I realized that it’d be interesting to do this in Wukong’s perceptive, soooo... look out for that if I write it 👀 

I hope you enjoyed reading it! I haven’t finished a whole fanfic in awhile, so this being over three thousand words is beautiful 🤩👌 Love y’all! Much Love, and many blessings! 💖

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 23

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Christmas morning finally arrives, and you and Bucky come to a decision.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Mild sexual content, fluff, mild angst, references to asexuality

AO3

Whether by habit or some instinctual memory of being back in this room on this day, your body knew to wake you up at the crack of dawn, which would have been a bummer if not for one important fact.

You were warmly tucked within the embrace of one sleeping demon. Definitely sleeping this time because his wings were draped over you like a blanket and his tail was looped snug around your leg.

Closing your eyes and releasing a sigh, you reveled in the warm security of Bucky’s chest pressed against your back. Neither of you had bothered to get dressed after last night, and all of him was pressed against you in the best way. You were on the edge between vibrating out of your skin in nervous energy and melting into a puddle from the intimate contact.

Perhaps your silent agitation woke him, because Bucky nosed against your neck and gave a raspy “morning” as he stretched and hugged you closer.

“M-morning,” you returned, stuttering while his stiffening cock pressed against your ass. Falling asleep naked was, in hindsight, not the wisest idea.

“Uh, sorry—“

Bucky began to roll away but you snatched his arm in time and draped it back over your waist.

“It’s fine, really, just… stay a little while?”

Bucky paused then rolled back the rest of the way, and you sighed at the return of warmth.

“We… we should probably talk about this…”

“Later.”

You rolled onto your other side until you were facing him and got an amazing view of his collarbone. Nuzzling against his chest, you made a satisfied hum in your throat.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh and ran his fingers through your hair. The humming intensified.

“You’re like a cat,” he remarked, his other hand tracing along the curve of your spine. “Craving warmth and attention.”

“I’m not the one with pointy ears and a tail.”

You gave the hollow dip at the base of his throat a lick for good measure. He stiffened and groaned, his cock now at full mast and pressed against your hip.

“Are you… uh… still hungry?” you asked, clearing your throat when your voice cracked like a teenage boy.

“Mmmm nope. Still very full from last night. This is… all you.”

Face on fire, you buried your face deeper in his neck. Bucky just laughed, the rumbling sound both comforting and rekindling the warmth in your gut.

“We should probably get up,” he sighed into your hair, then chuckling at your muffled groan. “I don’t want to leave this bed either, but… we’ll have lots of time once we get back to the city to…”

He trailed off at you staring up at him with big, wide eyes. His cheeks flushing pink was a rare, wonderful sight.

“We get to do this more?” you asked, daring not to hope. “Not just for feedings?”

He swallowed hard and licked his lips, tempting you to taste them again. You didn’t know how you would manage to keep your hands to yourself now that you knew what this was like.

“That’s what we should talk about.”

You huffed and let your forehead smash into the pillow. He rubbed your back sweetly but was definitely grinning down at you as he said, “You’re the one who said we should communicate more clearly.”

“Ugghhh,” was your answer muffled by the pillow.

Bucky smiled and kissed the top of your head, the amused, fond expression never quite leaving his face as the two of you got dressed. You couldn’t help sneaking glances at him; with or without the guise, his body was a goddamn meal in every sense of the word.

Coming downstairs meant you were met with the strong smell of pancakes, cinnamon, and hazelnut wafting through the house. Your mom and aunt were both working on breakfast, while your uncle shoveled the driveway and walkway  to clear the snow from the night.

Bucky volunteered to help him, and with a parting kiss on the crown of your head, he put on his windbreaker and disappeared out the front door.

Unlike all the other gestures of affection put on for show, this one left you flushed with a pounding heart. The knowing glance your mother and aunt shared made the heat in your face worse, but at least they were merciful enough to keep their comments to themselves.

Just kidding.

“Jacob seems very nice,” your mother said in that way mothers had of doing trying to prod for more information and thought they were being sneaky. “Will we get to see him over more holidays?”

You were in the middle of retrieving cartons of grapes, kiwis, and persimmons from the fridge in order to help make the fruit salad when you froze. Having Bucky over for… holidays? You jumped forward to other questions. What about birthday parties? Next holiday season?

How long was the shelf life of a demon pact? You couldn’t remember what the book had said, if anything.

“Sweetie?”

You blinked, struggled to form a steady smile, and turned back to the fruit when it didn’t quite work.

“Yeah, hopefully,” you answered weakly.

She shuffled closer and you could sense her staring, the weight of her concern pressing on your shoulders.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

The fruit cartons were cold in your hands, and the cool water you used to wash them with did nothing to stop the chill creeping over you.

“Course, Mom. Why?”

“Well…” She stood next to you to take the washed fruits and chop up the larger ones on the cutting board. “Because I know at the beginning of these things, when everything is new and intense, it can be a little… scary.”

You snorted. Now there was an understatement.

“But I know it’s going to all work out,” she said. “With Jacob, or whatever’s going on in your life, it’ll be okay. I just… have a feeling about it.”

You nodded and ducked your head, fighting back the sudden well of tears when your mother reached over and hugged you against your side as if you were a little kid again.

“But if anything is bothering you, I want you to tell me.” She squeezed your arm, and you smiled despite yourself. “Even if there’s nothing I can do, I’m your mother and I want to know.”

You did want to tell her, so badly. You gave another weak nod and a thanks, Mom so she’d leave the subject alone. You didn’t know where this surge of emotions was coming from, but everything felt too heavy and too much. It was Christmas morning, everyone was safe and healthy, and there was no reason you should be on the verge of crying into the fruit salad.

As soon as Bucky returned with your uncle and settled his gaze on you, his brows creased and he frowned. But there was no time to talk; your sister and her family had arrived, and it was a gentle sort of pandemonium after that. Embraces and excited conversation as everyone gathered around the tree. There were no children left in the family, with the exception of your two month old nephew, but it was a tradition you continued long after childhood.

Bucky kept shooting you concerned glances throughout the entire gathering, even after you decided to drop your own problems and focus on your family’s happiness. Your aunt and uncle were avid outdoors explorers, so shopping for them had been easy. Binoculars, survival gear, hiking boots, all pretty standard stuff. Your mother and sister had been harder, but some cute t-shirts and new books from their favorite authors had done the trick.

You were still bothered by the fact you hadn’t given Bucky anything. Last night had been something out of a fantasy, and that was before you’d managed to get Bucky into bed, and not having a gift for him was unacceptable.

After all the presents were opened and everyone got comfortable around the living room in what you recognized would be hours of slightly boring, adult conversation, Bucky caught your eye and nudged his chin towards the backdoor. Nodding discretely, you excused yourselves with the reason that you were going for a walk, and grabbed Bucky’s hand to lead him into the backyard.

You’d barely been outside ten seconds before Bucky sighed, turned right back around, and disappeared inside with the instructions to sit tight. You rolled your eyes when he reappeared with your jacket and beanie in hand.

“I’m not going to die of exposure from being out in the snow for a few minutes underdressed,” you griped.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky ignored you as he shoved the beanie over your head and used your flailing to slip your arms through the sleeves.

“You’re such a mother hen.”

“Well, one of us has to look out for you.”

“I am. Perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” You shook your finger at him.

“Uh-huh.” He grabbed you and lifted you up in his arms. “Is that why you couldn’t bother to put slippers on before going out in the snow?”

You buried your face in his chest so Bucky couldn’t see your expression. So what if you’d been so distracted you’d basically run outdoors in your pajamas?

He smirked and carried you to the old swing set you hadn’t been on since you were a kid. Only two seats, it had been built by your uncle soon after your sister had been born. It was one of your favorite childhood spots, and as Bucky set you down on one of the swings, you wondered if he knew that.

Bucky sat on the other swing and immediately picked up your legs and put them into his lap. You opened your mouth to complain, but closed it again. Bucky was softly smiling at you, and you couldn’t remember him ever looking so… happy.

“So…” You wiggled your legs and focused on your wet socks rather than your feelings. “Is this why you lured me away? You wanted to play on the swing set?”

You expected Bucky to be flustered or embarrassed by your teasing. Instead, he leaned across the small space and pulled your legs at the same time so you were practically sitting sidesaddle in his lap. He grinned at your shocked expression.

“No. But now that you bring it up…”

Bucky closed the last few inches and captured your lips in a soft, light kiss. It still hit you like a ton of bricks and you would have fallen backwards off your swing if Bucky hadn’t been there to wrap his arms around you.

You were in a daze by the time you separated. He chuckled at your expression but didn’t move far, and you were tempted to kiss him again.

“We still have to talk.”

You scrunched up your nose.

“Must we?” you asked. “Or should we make out instead.”

Bucky grinned wide enough to show perfectly white teeth.

“Maybe after.”

“I’m listening,” you said with your best innocent, attentive look. Bucky didn’t buy it, but he did kiss you on the tip of your nose before leaning back a more appropriate distance. Disappointing.

“Last night was…” Bucky’s gaze dropped, a thumb absently rubbing circles into your knee. “I don’t have words for it. It was incredible and amazing…

“But…” You exhaled heavily and leaned your forehead against the cold chain of the swing. Here was the it’s not you, it’s me talk. This was exactly why you didn’t want to have this discussion—

“But.” His other hand squeezed your leg, gently, to catch your attention. When he had it, he said, “I want to be a hundred percent certain it’s what you want.”

Oh. Not quite what you’d expected.

“Bucky… It’s… of course it’s what I want.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them. “I’ve wanted this for a while now and didn’t have the guts to express that until last night.”

“Huh.” He blinked, mouth slightly ajar as if he’d never considered that before. “I... I’m asking because the bond makes things a lot more complicated. How do we know what’s binding magic and what’s… I mean… even if it’s not the bond, we’re still forced to have sex, and it’s easy to get attachments when you—“

You didn’t mean to let the giggle escape, but once it had, Bucky stared at you like you’d grown a second head. The confused-Bucky-face didn’t help, either.

“I’m not… not laughing at you,” you said, smiling. “I’m laughing because I think I understand what you’re worried about, and Bucky? That’s not what’s going on here.”

Bucky searched your face and frowned.

“But how do you know that?” he asked. “You could be confusing the feelings from sex for something else. Something more.”

Your smile widened as you struggled not to laugh again. You really didn’t want Bucky to take it the wrong way, misunderstand it for the relief it was.

“I know because my brain doesn’t work like that. Never has,” you said. “I don’t get ‘sexual feelings’ from looking at attractive people. Having sex with them wouldn’t change that. So… I’m trying to say, I don’t like you because of the bond, or the sex. I like you apart from all that. One’s got nothing to do with the other.”

He stared at you so long you fidgeted under his gaze.

“Is that why you haven’t been in many relationships?”

You winced and buried your face in your hands. Sometimes, you forgot this was the guy who’d been watching over you most of your life and knew you better than anyone.

Gentle hands pulled your arms away from your face, his expression kind and a little bit sad.

“It’s not a judgement,” he said quietly. “I always wondered why you were alone. Couldn’t understand it.”

You couldn’t meet his eye, the tightness in your chest suffocating, bordering on painful. All those years you’d been alone, believing you’d always be that way, never knowing Bucky existed. Countless nights you’d curled up in bed, heart aching with loneliness, and he’d been out there just… thinking about you?

Bucky wasn’t the only one with a low sense of self-worth. You just buried yours better.

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard. “I don’t feel attracted to people very often. And when I do, it just… doesn’t work out.”

Your stomach clenched and you wondered if you might barf right there in the snow, or worse, on Bucky’s lap. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, not so soon and not here. You weren’t prepared for it, for his inevitable rejection. For the pity in his eyes as he finally understood.

“Or I’m not what they want.” Your voice was flat. Clinical. In direct opposition to the anxiety buzzing under your skin. “It’s as simple as that. I don’t blame anyone for wanting something I can’t give them. It’s… it’s no one’s fault…”

Despite the familiar words you had recited to yourself over and over, your vision blurred. You tried to retract your arms out of Bucky’s grip, but he pulled you forward against his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. The swing slipped out from under you, and now you really were in his lap. He didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed your back and propped his chin on top of your hair.

“It’s all right,” he said, low and comforting. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t.” You pressed closer against his chest, barely feeling the freezing temperature while wrapped in Bucky’s warmth. “I just want you to know that if I’m not what you want, then… bond or not, you don’t owe me anything.”

Bucky slowly pulled back and cupped your cheeks in his gloved hands, one stiffer than the other. His eyes were so gentle it was hard to breathe.

“I believe that’s my line.”

You rolled your eyes, if only so you wouldn’t start crying like a baby. You hadn’t realized how much emotional weight you’d been carrying until now.

“You’re stuck with me, Barnes. I told you that.”

He stroked your cheek, his gaze suddenly very far away as if he was seeing something else.

“And I made a promise a long time ago that I would always protect you,” he said. “Which I will continue to do, no matter where this goes or what happens between us.

“But,” he added, leaning forward, eyes sparkling with warmth, “I’m also extremely selfish and hoping we can continue what we’ve started. Whatever you’re willing to give me, whatever you’re comfortable with sharing, will be more than enough for me. Because you are more than enough for me.”

Great, now your eyes were burning for a totally different reason. Your anxiety had vanished, but now it felt like this burning affection was going to burst out of your chest like a baby xenomorph.

Before you could wonder if Bucky had seen any of the Alien series, and would you be able to rope him into watching them with you, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth.

And then you ruined the tender moment by grinning like an idiot and chirping, “So-o-o-o does that make you my demon boyfriend?”

“Oh, my God.”

“And me, your adorable human girlfriend?”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back and leaned away to give you a narrow-eyed glare.

“Yes.” He ended the syllable on a slight hiss, narrowing his eyes further when you grinned. “You might regret this, you know.”

“I regret getting out of bed every day. You?” You grinned. “No. Not a chance I’ll regret you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be assured or worried.”

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the cheek.

“Millennial humor. You’ll get used to it.”

Bucky leaned forward, his mouth suddenly very close, making you flush in record time.

“You do realize your generation did not invent fatalistic humor.”

“Yeah? Tell me more, Gramps.”

The crash of his lips against yours might have been a form of payback for your smart mouth, but you welcomed it gladly.

Next Chapter