#without my shit parents bossing me around and making all my decisions for me no matter what I say or do

[jackalopefreckles]

Yeahh idk this years been bad for me i was hoping it was gonna get better but it?? Doesn't look like it

[alltheangstmygifttoyou]

I can barely use tumblr without it crashing and this ain't what I usually put on my blog but I dont care bc I'm excited and want to throw ideas into the void!!! So under the cut will be SPOILERS for Helluva Boss all episodes released to this day (9/9/23 having season 2 episode 6 posted and the date of me typing this post). Cool? Cool.

Edit: (its now 12/10/23 and I see I never posted this lmao its just in my drafts. Which I have like fifty of 😅)

Okay okay so like: I'm a nerd who's an obsessive little bitch at times and when Fizz was explaining his side of events I was like... I'm not calling you a liar, 'cause Blitzø was definitely jealous, at least a bit, but I dont think jealousy over fame caused the biggest strain. So I went back through the episode slowly and took some screen shots of the flashback parts to show a bit what I mean.

[Image description: Cash Buckzo smiling as young adult Fizz reads card with words on the front saying "Wish you were My So" with Fizz's hand blocking the last letter. In the background of the image young adult Blitzø is watching behind curtains unhappily]

Pretty sure we can all tell that card really saying "wish you were my son" seeing how we know Cash is a shit father from season 2 episode 1. The deep blue (personally reminds me of space) and star decorations of the card are also an interesting choice, as well as the handwriting. It all points to Cash either having other people doing work for him, or being capable of doing these things himself, but not caring enough to similarly educate his kid in turn. So its no fucking wonder why Blitzø was upset! Theres a difference in wanting the spot light and wanting your parent to act like they love you instead of your bestest friend! (As someone who was the bestest friend at one point shit ain't comfortable!)

So Blitzø sees this shit and feels understandably hurt. I would too. He has a letter for Fizz, but logical or not, the hurt caused by Cash would sour emotions around Fizz for Blitzø for a little bit likely. So he removed himself from the situation before really ever entering, and with the shove he gave the cake holder and the talk of booze stealing from Cash later in the episode, I have to imagine that was his way of trying to not ruin Fizz's party. Blitzø throughout the series has been a bit quick to violence, volatile emotions would just worsen things. In some sense, if the fire hadn't gotten out of hand so quickly- or they waited until the cake was settled to light the candles, I'd argue Blitzø was making a more emotional mature decision than I normally think of him.

But then theres the card and flower itself. Its sealed with a heart sticker and says "Fizz's eyes only". The flower looks familiar. Five red petals all coming together to a yellow eye like center. Reminds me of the flowers in Stolas' hospital room in season 2 episode 4 Western Energy. People theorized that those petals dropping had something to do with the whole he loves me he loves me not game. The nature of these twos relationship is interesting.

I included these four screen shots because I think they emphasize the hurt Blitzø felt, his confusion, but mainly to point out Cash. When all the charecters are silhouettes we see one that is clearly Blitzø standing under Fizz's birthday banner. But behind him, one of the last sprinting out of the tent is a partly hidden silhouette. But the horn, head, hand/claws, and mustache make it clear that this is Cash once again. But when we see from a more street view Blitzø is alone when the explosion of fireworks happened. Doesn't this imply that Cash just not only left the kid who he wished was his son but also his blood son behind despite all he needed to do was grab them and push them to run?

[a-tale-never-told]

What?! Why not?!

....

Wh... What!? What the hell do you mean that you can't guarantee my family's safety?! You're part of the Kuzuryu Clan, for God's sake! Can't you just send a few guys to my house to protect me! Is that not a guarantee for you?!

Well, the information part is something we can accept without a doubt, as it'll allow us to track the culprit down pretty easily. But I can't give your family protection because it's not my decision to make.

B-But aren't you the ultimate Yakuza?! You have that title because you are the heir to the throne! The next leader of the clan!

Yeah, you just jinxed yourself, because I'm not the one who makes decisions like that! It's my Dad who makes the orders around here!

Your....Dad?

My dad is the official head of the Kuzuryu Clan. As the head of the family, any decisions that the clan does or can make in this city are done through him. No one in the clan is allowed to make a decision without his direct approval or command. It's a pretty screwed-up thing, but that's how a Yakuza clan works. You take orders from the boss and you have to obey them, no matter what.

And even if I tried to convince him to give your family security, he would refuse it. My dad doesn't really give much of a shit to anyone outside of those from the clan, or those related to him. It's highly unlikely he would actually decide to give a shit about your situation, especially when he's focused all of the family's attention on this threat of catching the bastard.

.... I see. So there is absolutely nothing you can do about this, can you?

No, I'm afraid not. I'm truly sorry about this, Hinata. Really, I am. If I were the head of the clan, I'd would've sent some of my guards to protect you and your parents from that fucker, but unfortunately, I'm not the guy that can call the shots or make decisions like that at the end of the day.

It's fucked up, I know that. But at the end of all of this, what are you going to do about it? Huh? You can't just expect every decision you make to work out smoothly like that, because that's just not how the world works. Not in here, as it's a dog-eat-dog world over there. And stuff like this is nothing more than an afterthought.

.....

[yeetlegay]

Oh I'm definitely looking forward to that meta!

Regarding the wound tending scene, I feel like I may have gotten it completely wrong. Like many others on the TL, I thought I noticed a difference in Porsche's overall attitude towards Kinn once he saw Kinn's male friend in Episode 3. So I read the wound tending scene as Porsche flirting with Kinn but then it was revealed in Episode 4 that he hadn't even registered that Kinn may have been gay. I mean it could have still been Porsche subconsciously flirting with Kinn without him even realising. I have no idea.

Honestly, I really do find Porsche hard to read. I mean I can genuinely pause an episode at any time and tell you exactly what Kinn is thinking based on the look on his face (Mile is an EXCEPTIONAL actor. His MICROEXPRESSIONS! I feel like every single decision he makes as Kinn is the BEST one).

However, with Porsche, it's very different for me. I think it may be intentional because Apo is definitely an incredible actor as well. On one hand, it could be that Porsche is confused/unaware of his attraction to Kinn. On the other, it could just be that he is very good at hiding his feelings. Both Kinn and Porsche are great at that. But when it comes to attraction and sexuality, that's not something Kinn really has to hide. I mean he's KINN THEERAPANYAKUL. He can do whatever he wants. He can look at anyone however he wants. What can they do about it?! Nothing!

But with Porsche, he stands to lose a lot if he makes his attraction to Kinn apparent and Kinn reacts negatively to it. I mean that's his BOSS! (Gotta love those power dynamics, LOL) I think this was illustrated in the "To me all our people are the same" scene in Episode 4. Porsche has remembered this kiss by this time and based on the reaction we saw, he didn't seem to mind it at all. I think him asking Kinn if he would have asked for him back was a very loaded and layered question. Yes, he wants to know whether Kinn thinks he's a competent enough bodyguard to be on his team but he also now knows that Kinn wanted to discuss the kiss (based on all his prodding earlier) and now wants Kinn to once again initiate that conversation because he's not the one in the position to do so.

So in conclusion, my point is that I'm confused about Porsche and where he stands. I REALLY want him to just be good at hiding his feelings but like I said, he could also just be confused about his feelings for Kinn. Sigh. I can't wait for Episode 5. I'm HOPING Porsche doesn't initially forget the events of the night before but I think he might.

Ack I’m just now seeing this! Well the meta is here now 😂

Yeah I don’t think Porsche really twigged to what that guy was doing in Kinn’s room in episode 3. We’re all still susceptible to heteronormativity/compulsory heterosexuality/etc. so it just might not have occurred to him that someone like Kinn would be gay. Idk Porsche just might need to have that gay shit directly in his face lol. Sort of like my many embarrassing experiences of finding out girls were flirting with me and I just thought they were being nice. Obliviousness is queer culture at this point.

I definitely think Porsche just, like, gives vibes constantly without meaning to around Kinn. He was definitely eyeing him up very subtly and radiating a certain energy, even though I’m sure he had no idea that’s what he was doing.

Porsche can be hard for me to read too, but tbh I think it’s hard for him too. I think he’s not very good at understanding himself sometimes; from one oldest sibling to another, I can recognize how he’s sort of closed off parts of himself because of how quickly he had to grow up and how much of his youth he lost in grieving for his parents and taking care of Chay. And for the same reason, when he is aware of his feelings, I think he’s very good at masking them when he wants to. He can actually be pretty calculating in how much of himself he reveals.

So yeah, I think it’s both! I think Porsche is confused about his feelings and doing a good job of hiding them. And I still do think he’s not in quite as deep as Kinn yet (I posted earlier that I’m getting some real demiromantic vibes from him, but we’ll see lol). I feel like Kinn may have fallen first, but Porsche will fall harder.

[justkending]

Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about." 

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555  @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk​ @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

[deviliciousdev]

appreciation post for the types✨

from your local intp🖤

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

✨The Sensors✨

estj (the executive)

Oh the executive, the most organized and loud boss bitch to ever exist. You cut through the bullshit and do not let anything stand in your way. And yet, like you're intuitive counter part (entj) you are quite sensitive if and when something hurts your feelings. Even though you're an expert at being all business during business hours, you still know how to have fun. and omg you have such a dorky sense of humor and love random facts, we love that. you are/can/will be a great leader/parent. All in all you are THEE boss and everyone knows it. keeping leading and kicking ass. 👏🏼

estp (the entrepreneur)

i absolutely adore estp's. you are the epitome of one of my fav character arcs. which is the charismatic rogue, who possibly drinks a lil more than they should, but can handle their liquor like a sailor (amazingly). you never back down from a challenge. you are so fun and wild in a han solo type of way, that just makes everyone want to be around you. but the best thing about you, is the way (deep down & to those you let close know) you are actually such a sweetheart. you would get hit by a bus trying to rush to make sure a friend is ok. you would take a bullet for any of your loved ones and let them cry on your shoulder. you're secretly the white knight but you're happy to let everyone think you're just the brash rogue. you're one of my best friends and someone i will adore with all my heart till the end of time.💕

p.s if you don't have an estp in your life, get one ASAP. they are a necessity for a complete friend group.

istj (the logistician)

oof, yes istj's. so sublet in their charm, and ready to die for what they believe in. i love the istj because you have two of an intp's fav qualities at your core. badassery & humility. you're like this pillar of certainty. even if you are uncertain about something, no one would ever be able to tell. you have a way of decision making that's not loud or overwhelming. which is why intp's love when you plan things.  you're also quiet at first, but if you're challenged, you would never let someone walk all over you or something/someone that matters to you. i also love that you're one of the types (alongside infp & entj) that is sooo funny and goofy when you're drunk. like a lil toddler. #adorable

istp (the engineer)

ahhhh, the intp's sensing counter part. istp's fucking rule. truly. you believe in many of the same principles intps do. the main one being, keeping an open mind without fore fitting you're own beliefs. your exterior calm and collected nature makes you cool af. AND you also have such a FANTASTIC sense of sarcastic humor. like yes bitch. i love the way intps are the idealists and istps are the doers. if an istp and intp got together, ooof the world better beware the chaos that would ensue. also you guys have thee COOLEST fictional characters. the first one that always comes to mind is Arya Stark from Game of Thrones. like suchhhhhhh a badass who also roasts literally EVERY single person in that show no matter if it's the fucking leader of the house you're at war with. out of all the types i think you would be the best assassin. to sum up i think the word i always relate to you is... cool. 😎 like plain and simple. 💀🤘🏼

p.s let's be partners in crime. 😁🚨🚓

esfj (the consul)

ok, ok, so first things first, because you are so opposite of the intp, i know we can butt heads sometimes. the main reason this happens is because nt's will see you're want to make others happy as a negative. HOWEVER, as i have gotten to know and respect an esfj as they are a part of my family (irl). i can say that the perceived notion of esfj's wanting to please everyone to get them to like them is a bit misguided. while esfjs DO want everyone to be happy, it's not always about being the popular kid. it's actually because they care about others. AND not just others but like situations. they really care if a party or a dinner is going smoothly. because they want events and people to have an enjoyable time and be happy. so esfj's I SEE YOU. and i genuinely appreciate how much you care about even the smmmmallest things. you are very dependable and high key you've taught me a lot. like how/why it's important to always say please and thank you. and you showed me that having emotions (like being nervous) isn't a weakness and it actually shows us what's important. esfj's are HIGHLY underrated, and much more wise than anyone gives you credit for.

p.s you are so much fun to prank and you always give as good as you get. 🤘🏼

esfp (the entertainer)

holy shit. that's all i can think when i think of the memories we share. we somehow bring out the worst/best in one another. you and infp are the ones i tell first when i get good news because i know you'll hype me the fuck up. we have sooooooooooo much fun together. you are so absolutely awesome and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. if i have a passing random idea, YOU WILL DO IT. i can be like "wouldn't it be funny if someone got on the hood of the car and twerked" and you're hilarious crazy ass will literally jump out of the car and do it. just because it's funny. you can party soooo hard, like rockstar level. you 100% need you're own reality show. your presence makes my introverted self feel more confident even when i'm at my lowest. with all that chaotic-ness said, you are actually a REALLY good parent/s.o?? such a crazy bitch, but also wife material?? like are you real?? anywayyyyy, just wanna say esfp's are the bad bitches of the types (no gender intended, bitches is gender neutral). and i can't wait for our next adventure. 🤩💜

isfj (the defender)

ok so even though you're a feeling type, i would have to say you're the most logical out of ALL the feeling types. i think it comes from you're mama bear (no specific gender intended) core. you don't put up with anyone's shit when it comes to those you care about. and dayummm will you fuck someone up (metaphorically and literally) if they come for your loved ones. you are VERY intelligent and people often underestimate you. the word that comes to mind when i think about isfjs is... resolve. your resolve in the face of hardship is so inspiring and something to be feared. i really love the way you seem so chill and even sweet and gracious and then it's like... oh fuck mamas here... but you don't even have to raise your voice to get your point across. like the istj, you've got a certainty and loyalty that intp's lovvveee. we never have to guess where you're loyalties are, because you don't just say, you show, through real actions. and we love that. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼🐻

isfp (the adventurer)

oh the isfp, no one and i mean no one can match the intp's weird out of the box thinking like you. can. you view the world in SUCH a unique way. you not only see things in deep meaningful aesthetics, but you make them a reality. you love to push the envelope of what are perceived social normals. and we lovvvvvvve that shit. you're life can be so out there, but you still respect and can make friends with just about anyone. you're so sweet and creative. and you always show me something sooooo interesting. a hidden gem, a beautiful view spot, a hole in the wall place to eat. you've got that thing that xntp's sort of fall head over heels for, but in a subtle way to where we don't even realize it. and you can make time the illusion it actually is, not even noticing that we've been hanging out for like 12 hours, because it felt like 30 minutes. and omg talk about talented! anything that requires creativity you are always so good at, like wtf?? 😂👏🏼 i will end this by saying; you're simultaneously the most tranquil yet exciting person i've ever met. and truly one of a kind. keep doing exactly what you're doing and i can't wait to see what you come up with next.

p.s you are my top choice, to go to Bali & Tulum with✨🤍☯️

[world-of-aus]

A Maiden’s Tale - 8

Warnings: fluff, angst, & MORE ANGST.

A/n: I give you all hope, but then i diminish that hope, that is all. Happy Readings Angels. Two more chapters before this baby wraps up! Chubby!Bucky coming this weekend!

All Other Work Can Be Found On My Masterlist In My Bio.

Bucky fought with himself to pull away from you finding it hard to part when he had already gotten a taste of you.

He watched as you stepped back and away bringing a hand to your mouth, your fingers running over your lips where his had once been.

He can see the worry, the concern, and he wants to reach out and tell you there’s no need for that, he wants to take those feelings away. “I don’t regret doing that y/n,” your eyes meet his, “I meant every word I said,” he adds, “to hell with them both, it’s my turn to be happy, and my happiness has always been with you, every time I needed an escape from this life, I found it with you, and I want to keep finding it with you.”

Your heart aches in your chest, the pain evident in your eyes as you stare into the ocean greys before you, “bucky, your mother will never let this happen, come hell or high waters your mother will never let us see the day that it can just be you and I.”

“so, then we don’t tell her, we don’t tell anyone.”

You shake your head, “what type of life is that James, a life where you have to run, run to hide the one you love?”

Bucky closes the distance between the two of you, “y/n, the only ones that matter are you and I, I'm not running, not hiding from anything or anyone as long as I have you, and that’s all I'll need, it's  all I've ever needed.”

You shake your head, hands falling to his chest as he pulls you close, “you’re serious about this aren’t you?”

His hand cups your cheek bringing your eyes back to his, “you want to know how I'd be living life if it wasn’t my parent's decision to make, how I'd live it if I wasn’t handed down the name of the family business?”

You look at him expectantly, “I'd be off somewhere far,” he starts, “there would be land all around the cottage not another house in sight, just a vast number of acres and trees.” A smile tugs at your lips, “there’d be animals, and a garden and – and there’d be you.”

You tried to hold back the audible gasp but it was to no avail, “bucky you don’t mean -”

“of course I do, of course I mean all of it, like you said sweetheart I've known you since I was five,” he answered, “yeah, we might have had a few years taken away from us, but it's like nothing ever changed, it's like you were never gone and I was never away.”

“Bucky you can’t actually believe that they will let this happen, that your mother and Dolores will let this happen.”

“no one would know,” he answers, “I could get us set up, get us a place, and have it all taken care of without them batting an eye, give me a week, two weeks tops and I'll have it all set up for us,” he takes your head in his warm hands, “run away with me,” he laughs, “as cliché as it sounds sweetheart, run away with me, it wouldn’t be right living my dream if you weren’t in it.”

The nagging feeling that this wouldn’t work out ate away at you, you knew Winnifred would stop at nothing, nothing to make sure her son and you never found happiness within one another, and Bucky could read you like a damn book, his favorite book.

“don’t worry about ma, you leave all of that to me, I just want you to be ready, I just need to know that you’ll go, that’s all I need from you.”

“You really want this, would really do all this with me?”

A smile kisses the corner of his mouth, “there’s no one else I'd rather do this with, whaddya say sweetheart?”

“two weeks?”

His smile grows, head knocking against yours as he steals your breath away with another kiss, “Just two weeks sugar, and I'll take us both away from here.”

“And you’re sure you saw correctly, that you heard James correctly?”

Dolores gave a pitiful sniffle as she wiped under her eyes, “he told her he was planning on whisking the two of them away, he sent us both to hell saying that he was finally going to do something about his happiness, said it was time he put himself first, ” she cried, crumbling in on herself.

Winnifred cursed under her breath as she moved over to her future daughter in law, “wipe those tears sweetheart, James will not get away with this, she will not get away with this, we will not be made to look like a pair of fools, you and James are to be married, there is no other way, he has no other choice!”

“But what are we to do,” Dolores questioned, “George set her up as his right hand, he wouldn’t hear of it if you tried to rank her down, it is his line of business, he knows the ins and outs of it more than you do.”

Winnie held Dolores closer, though she should have held the petite woman at arm's length after the phone call she had just made in regards to her son an hour prior.

“you leave that worry to me sweetheart, I’ll set those two straight, don’t you worry, and if George so much as tries to get in the way he will be handled as well, I will not be made a fool of.”

Dolores continues to feign her innocence as she crumbled in on her mother-in-law, holding on to her as Winnifred rubbed comfortingly at her back.

“wipe those tears dear, this will be taken care of,” Winnifred hushed.

Dolores fingers curled into the sides of her mother-in-law, oh it would, the problem would definitely be taken care of alright.

She is to be wed to James Buchanan Barnes, she is to live the life she deserves, a life of riches, and Rumlow would see to it that she would.

Bucky had everything planned out for the two of you, while he still had to keep you at a distance so as to not give anything away, he was doing as much as he could when he was out for the two of you, getting everything ready for this new start. And each time he stepped out without the eyes of his mother, or Dolores watching him, he felt whole, he felt giddy, he felt like life was finally coming together for him.  

He felt like nothing could possibly go wrong the closer he got to the two-week mark.

“and you’re sure that she’s going to be in that car?”

Dolores rolled her eyes, as she peeked out the office blinds, keeping a watchful eye out for her fiancés return, “James is sending her in his place to meet with the heads supposedly, but I'm telling you that’s likely the plan of escape, we’ll probably never hear of him again once she loads that car, it’ll be two weeks since I last contacted you, it has to be tomorrow when it happens.”

Rumlow lets out a low grunt on the other line, “Listen Dot, you better be right about this because do you know what it's going to look like if I take out the wrong person, I need you to make sure,” he hisses, “I don’t need the boss on my tail if shit goes sideways, because you know this isn’t going to end well for you, Pierce is one of those heads!”

“Listen I called you for a job, I didn’t call you to be lectured, or threatened for that matter, now I know what I heard because I was there Rumlow, James plans on sending her to meet with the heads, because apparently he has another meeting that can’t be missed to attend, nothing has changed that I've been advised of so just do what you’re asked and make it seem like an accident.”

“You better be right, or its your head I'm coming after,” he grunts before the line goes silent.

Dolores is placing the phone back on the receiver at the same time that the sleek black car that’s carrying her fiancé pulls up.

She watches through the slit in the curtain as he clambers out of the vehicle, a white-hot surge of anger following as she sees you slide out after him. Her jaw clenches something fierce when she seems him pull you in close, a very chaste kiss pressed to the side of your head before he’s moving before you, your eyes looking after him as you wait for him to likely enter the house.

“bitch,” she finds herself muttering as she moves away from the desk to busy herself with something else, she can’t give away that she knows, can’t give away just how badly she wants to take care of you herself, you would get what was coming to you tomorrow.

Come tomorrow you would no longer be a thorn to her side, you would no longer be a concern or worry for James, his life would continue for all you were concerned.

Feigning innocence something Dolores did well, she met the opening door with wide eyes as her fiancé slid in through the French doors.

His eyes meet hers, and there’s no brightness there like when she catches him looking at you, and that only makes the anger burn brighter, as she pulls on a bright smile.

“how was the meeting with your father,” she finds herself questioning.

“long and boring,” he answers crossing the space to place a brief kiss to the side of her head like he had with you, “did you get around to anything while I was out,” he questions as he takes a seat at the desk.

Dolores shakes her head as she goes back to looking over the books on the large shelf of the wall, “just made an important call, but nothing too special, have there been any changes made to the agenda for tomorrow?”

Bucky’s eyes meet her back, “no sweetheart nothing has changed, why did something come up that I need to put in the schedule?”

Her eyes meet Bucky’s over her shoulder’s a small yet almost sinister smile tugging at her lips, “no, nothing just wanted to make sure everything was still going according to plan.”  

Bucky raises a brow at her, clearing his throat after a second, “well should anything changes you’ll be the first to know, do you think you can have y/n, come in here, I'd like to go over some things with her for the meeting with the heads tomorrow.”

Dolores nods her head as she turns, “anything for you sweetheart,” she murmurs as she moves over to the door.

Anything.

Today was the day; Bucky had planned everything down to where no one would suspect either of you taking off together. He had made sure that his father, mother, and Dolores suspected you would be heading to meet with the heads, and he would be needing to attend another meeting on the other side of town.

What they didn’t know is that your separate cars would be switching before they hit the road, so Bucky would be the one heading to the meeting with the heads, and you, well you would be heading to a place only the two of you knew of.

It was early morning, when the two of you made your way down the steps of his family home, making your way to the awaiting cars.

He pulls open the door for you, “You really think this is going to work,” you questioned turning to face him, “you really think you’ll get your happy ending with your parents, with Dolores watching your our every move?”

Bucky’s hand finds your cheek, “I have no doubt in my heart that this will work sweetheart, like I said it’s my turn, they’ve had there chance at happiness and they couldn’t find it, but I've found mine, have had mine since I was five, and it's my turn to take it.”

Your heart swells in your chest, your hand covering his as you lean into the touch, he chuckles low, “it's taking me everything I have to not kiss you sweetheart.”

Your grin grows, “well should everything go according to your plan it should only be a few hours before you get to do just that.”

His thumb runs over the tops of your cheeks, “you’ll wait for me?”

“You haven’t exactly left me a choice,” you tease, “but yes James, I’ll wait for you.”

It takes everything in him not to lean in and press his lips to yours, but he knows he will be able too soon enough.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs as he helps you into the car, “I'll see you soon,” you promise in return.

The two of you go down the same road, before your cars are switching off, going in different directions.

You turn to look out the back window watching the car carry him to where you should be heading too. The car you’re in taking you instead to the place where only the two of you knew.

As the two of you get farther from one another, you find your eyes on the winding roads ahead, watching as you pass the scenery in a blur. Soon it goes from buildings, to home, to trees, till it's nothing but openness till you reach it.

Your heart is beating away wildly in your chest, as the driver pulls up the dirt road, the grand house sat in the middle of the vast area. You continue on till you’re close enough to get off, though you don’t make it far up the pathway before your driver is calling you back, a rush in his tone.

Your heart plummets in your chest at his next words, “miss, its Mr. Barnes, there’s been an accident!”

WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes @oliviastan17 @fandom-basurero​ @lookiamtrying​ @baddie-barnes @xxloki81xx @fortyninegal @peacelovehobbitness @xo-spidey @noeaerialist @the-cry-of-youth @liebs82  @jbarness​ @morganclaire4​ @runaway-escape​ @melimelbean​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @rebekahdawkins @thinkaboutmara @im-squished @angstysebfan​ @pncesscarryyy @strangersstranger  @stuckyslutt @courtneychicken @tonystankschild @fallenoutofrose  @jasminepaz @nnuree @ene-rene @mollygetssherlockcoffee @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @doozywoozy @buchanansebba @purselover2   @connie326​ @bestofbucky​ @white-wolf1940​ @stopjustlovethemcu​  @stuckysavedmylive​  @sarcasmoverlordxo​ @avantgardium-leviosa​ @wittysunflower​ @muralskins​ @vesper852 @snakeeater17​ @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons​ @some0nereally​ @sumtimesitbelikedat​ @gudenuph​ @zareen165​ @dancer3205​ @gemstone-roses​ @buchanansebba​ @moshymosh​ @cachemonet @deepmuffinspymaker @buckybarneshairpullingkink

Sebastian/Bucky Fluff Taglist: @whatrambles @cherryblossomskye @charmedbysarge @buckysgirl101​

[winterscaptain]

nightmare, recalled

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the hearing. next part up is the slave of duty. we are reaching the end of this arc, and we will do some healing, i promise. thank you all for waiting on this part! it’s a little short breather before we get slave of duty tomorrow night. 

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! (the pieces stand alright on their own as well, for the most part!) one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 2k warnings: discussion of violence, language

summary: “when someone you loved was depending on your lie, it was perfectly easy.” - liane moriarty, big little lies

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You arrive at the office in the early morning, not looking half as exhausted as you feel. It was your own fault - you begged and begged to be the first in the back-to-back team testimonies today. If you were first, you reasoned, you never once had to leave Jack once he and Aaron arrived. 

Jess is taking care of the final arrangements today - handling the catering for the wake with her parents, sourcing roses, all of the wretched little tasks you’d much rather take on yourself - for the funeral this weekend. 

But alas, Strauss needs to continue her warpath on Aaron, and you need to defend him. 

You sit outside of the eighth-floor conference room, just down the hall from Erin’s office. You have tissues tucked in your hand, not trusting her to provide them and saving your pride in the process. You keep your eyes down as she steps into the room and closes the door behind her. 

As you expected, about three minutes later, she pops her head out. “We’re ready for you.” 

Inside the room is one of the deputy directors, in addition to a lackey from the inspector general’s office. 

Gang’s all here...

You take your seat opposite Erin, keeping your hands in your lap. 

“Please state your name and rank for the record.”

You do, clear and steady.

“How long have you worked in the BAU?”

“I was assigned to the BAU as a New Agent Trainee in the summer of 2007, and was assigned to the unit as an agent at the end of that year.”

“So, two years?”

“Just about, ma’am.”

The other people in the room start taking notes, but Erin keeps her eyes on you. It’s unsettling. 

“How was it that you were assigned to the BAU as a NAT?” There’s something hidden in her question, so you answer somewhat comprehensively. 

“I requested a unit assignment based on a recommendation from Jennifer Shepard, the late director of NCIS. I was intrigued by the guest lecture given by Agents Hotchner and Gideon and requested the BAU.”

“Who approved your transfer into the unit?”

Your brow crinkles. “I’m not sure of the specifics ma’am, but the SSAIC informed me that she’d spoken to Agent Hotchner prior to my assignment.” 

“Do you feel indebted to Agent Hotchner?”

Ah. There it is. 

“No, ma’am.” 

She narrows her eyes. “How can that be? He was directly responsible for a massive acceleration of your career within the bureau.”

“All due respect, ma’am, I believe my academy coursework and the Director’s Leadership Award on my desk speaks for itself. Agent Hotchner and Agent Hemingway both recognized my potential and made their decisions accordingly.” You try to keep the sass out of your tone, but you have to throw her off this train of thought somehow. 

She hums - once, staccato. “Given that...recognition, do you feel obligated to defend Agent Hotchner?”

“No, ma’am. I do not feel any obligation or debt to Agent Hotchner.” 

She narrows her eyes again, but makes a note in her small notebook before speaking again. “How would you describe Agent Hotchner’s recent behavior in the field?”

Without hesitation, “Motivated.”

She’s not impressed. “Would you say he’s been taking unnecessary risks in the field?”

Lady, if you only knew the half of it. 

“No, ma’am. I believe his choices in the field have been effective.” 

She chuffs a little laugh, unamused. “Very cute, agent, but that’s not what I asked.” 

You blink at her, waiting for another question. 

“Why did Agent Hotchner step down from his position as unit chief?”

Careful. Careful. 

“He promoted Agent Morgan so the team could continue our work unhindered.” 

“What were the hindrances?”

Shit. 

“By transferring his responsibilities, he had the opportunity to explore more investigatory avenues regarding George Foyet that he would have been unable to prioritize while in his post as unit chief.” 

Good save. 

“Can you characterize the transition of power?” She raises an eyebrow. She’s baiting you. 

You don’t take it. “Amicable. Seamless. Peaceful.”

“So you wouldn’t say there was tension between Agents Hotchner and Morgan regarding the division of responsibilities?”

“No, ma’am. I did not experience or witness any dysfunction arising from the transition. Agent Hotchner was exceptionally respectful and deferential to Agent Morgan following the promotion. There was never any confusion about the chain of command.” 

And that was actually true. 

She pushed and pushed and pushed you to say something that would condemn Aaron for his behavior in the previous eight weeks. Though you were plenty frustrated with him, you didn’t budge. 

Soon enough, she asked about what happened on the afternoon of November 23rd, 2009. You started from the beginning - The Fox, the letters, the medication. 

+++

“Who made the decision to breach Foyet’s apartment?”

This was wearing on you, well into the second hour. “Agent Morgan, ma’am.” 

“Didn’t Agent Hotchner have anything to say regarding the tactical plan?” Strauss looks tired too, but she better rally - her efforts are getting weaker as you continue to answer her questions with steady candor and she still has seven more interviews to conduct today, not to mention the paperwork. 

“No, ma’am. Agent Morgan, even in normal circumstances, is the established tactician of the unit. In this instance and others even while he was in the unit chief position, Agent Hotchner deferred to Agent Morgan’s expertise regarding SWAT deployment and tactical decisions.” 

+++

“Do you believe it was Agent Kassmeyer’s fault that Agent Hotchner’s family was compromised?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m sure you’ll hear it more than once today, but torture is seemingly endless. Agent Kassmeyer took everything Foyet threw at him and still refused to compromise the Hotchner family’s location. There was nothing more he could have done to prevent Foyet from making contact with Haley Hotchner.” 

+++

“Did it occur to you to join Agent Hotchner as he separated himself from the team?”

“No, ma’am. And I disagree with your characterization of the situation - Agent Hotchner did not separate himself from the team. He pursued a lead with Agent Kassmeyer, who requested his presence as he was dying in the back of that ambulance.” 

She purses her lips. “What was your next plan of action?” 

You take a moment. 

This is the hard part. 

“Once the scene was in-process, I took a car and followed the ambulance to the hospital. When I arrived, Agent Anderson had already found Agent Hotchner a car, and he was in touch with the team regarding the next plan of action.” You wet your lips. “He then received a call from Foyet.”

+++

Her eyes remain cold and detached as you walk her through the conversations with Foyet, with Haley. With a certain degree of frustration, you push through your tears as you relay her last words, the gunfire. 

“I don’t remember exactly what happened after that.” You stare down at your hands, focused on the way the pad of your thumb feels against the side of your middle finger. “I remember pulling up to the house and getting out of the car...The - the door was open. I found Agent Hotchner while I was clearing the ground floor. Foyet was dead, at that point.” 

“What had happened to Foyet?”

“He’d been...beaten.” Your voice cracked. That was an understatement. “I subdued Agent Hotchner until the rest of the team arrived.” You press the tissue to your eyes for a second. “He was...understandably distraught.” 

Strauss examines you across the table, sees the emptiness in your eyes behind your tears, the grief, the sorrow, the horror of having to relive it. “What happened after that?”

“I realized,” you continue, “that I hadn’t found Jack. I remembered what Agent Hotchner told him, and we both got up and ran to his home office, off the kitchen. I found Jack Hotchner in the storage trunk beside Agent Hotchner’s desk.” You look up at her. “I can’t begin to articulate the relief I felt at seeing him alive.” 

+++

“When Haley’s sister, Jessica Brooks, arrived, I kept her away from the crime scene for the sake of her health and safety. She met up with Agent Jareau, who had Jack at that point. I -” You stutter and swallow before taking a breath. “I returned upstairs.” 

Your voice shakes, and tears make their way down your cheeks again. 

“I returned upstairs, where Agent Morgan was sitting with Haley’s body. There wasn’t - I couldn’t, um - I couldn’t do anything for her. She was gone even before Aaron - Agent Hotchner - arrived.” 

The representative from the IG’s office looks a little misty now, as does the deputy director. You press your hands to your face. 

“It was... She’d been shot at least three times - that much we heard over the phone.” You voice breaks, but you forge ahead. “She had also been stabbed...There was…” You take a quick breath, but it’s not enough. “...so much blood.” 

Strauss’s voice is quiet when she asks. “What was the nature of your relationship with Haley Hotchner?”

You look her square in the eye, not shy about the grief washing over you in waves. “She was one of my best friends. My boss’s wife, the mother of a boy I consider my family.” You turn your gaze to the table, the fake wood grain suddenly very interesting. “I will miss her beyond measure.” 

A breath echoes around the room as the others collect themselves. 

“I have one last question for you.” 

“Yes, ma’am?”

“What do you think would have happened if Agent Hotchner had allowed George Foyet off of that floor?”

You level her with a look that makes her sit back. “He would have killed Jack. He would have killed me.” 

“And?” There’s one more thing you have to say. 

“He would have let Agent Hotchner live, and he would have told him it was his fault.” 

The rest of the room looks shaken, and you know you’re right. Even beyond the profile, Foyet’s obsession with Aaron was clear. 

Why can’t they see it? 

“Thank you, Agent. No further questions.” 

+++

When you get back to the roundtable room, JJ is there with Derek. You offer them an approximation of a smile. 

“What are you still doing here?” Derek asks. “You can go home, if you want.” 

You shake your head. “I’ll be here until Aaron’s interview is finished.” 

+++

You can’t help the way your face lights up when Jack sprints across the bridge in the middle of the afternoon, leaping ahead of Aaron. 

Rounding the table, you kneel and open your arms to him, letting out an oof when he runs into you full-tilt. You can’t help but smile. 

But then again, Jack has always had that effect on you. 

“Good morning, bud.” 

He wraps his arms around your neck, still impossibly tight. “Hi.” 

You stand in the doorway until Aaron gets there. Jack’s familiar travel bag is slung over his shoulder, and he tosses it down in the corner. “Emily’s in right now, and then it’s you.”

Aaron nods, taking a seat. You follow suit, reclining in your chair so Jack can relax against your chest. The rest of the team watches you both, equal parts mournful and hopeful. 

JJ watches the way Aaron presses a kiss to the side of his son’s head right before he sits down, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder for balance.

Penelope watches the way Jack clings to you, playing with the buttons on your shirt, comfortable and safe. 

Derek watches the way Aaron watches you, brown eyes soft and absent of concern. 

Dave watches the way you watch Aaron, can see the way your fingers ache to reach out for him, to take care of him. 

They all watch the three of you - understanding, but not knowing. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch

[jessikahathaway]

Vegas, Baby - Part I

Pairing: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Romance, Smut (Slow Burn)

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Summary: After four years, you have been let go from your job. Taking a chance you head to Vegas to make the best of a bad situation. A situation that only gets worse.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, but we are going to have to let you go,” your boss’ monotone voice echoed in your ears. 

Four years of your life, wasted. Not that you particularly enjoyed the job, but it paid your bills. And that was what counted at the end of the day. Now, what were you going to do? Your parents had already said your room was still yours if you needed to move back in. It was sweet of them really, but you didn’t want to move back in with them, you wanted your freedom and you wanted to be on your own. But what other options did you have without losing everything? 

“Your separation pay will come through at the end of the week,” your ears perked up. The separation pay would be a nice amount no doubt. This financial firm didn’t come without its perks. 

“Very good, sir. Thank you for four years,” you said, trying not to let the bitter tone enter into your voice. 

“You can show yourself out. See that your desk is cleaned out by the end of the shift,” he said, turning his back to you.

Quickly you let yourself out, heading toward your desk. 

“So, what did dickhead want?” Namjoon, your table mate, asked.

“I got canned,” you whispered, gathering up your stuff.

“What? No way, let me go in there,” he said, preparing to stand up before you stopped him.

“Joon, honestly, it’s fine. I’ve wanted to quit for a while anyways,” you confess.

“But, Y/N, it’s bullshit that they fire you. If that bimbo in the receptionist office can keep her job, you can too,” he said, fuming.

“Joon, seriously, I’m fine. Do you see me crying over it?” You asked, smiling.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“I’m positive,” you answered.

“Okay, if you say so,” he responded.

“Just let me get my shit and blow this popsicle stand,” you said, grinning at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N, I’ll miss you here,” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“You’re acting like you don’t have my number or something,” you said, laughing lightly.

“It won’t be the same without you here to annoy,” he said, giving you a dimpled smile.

“I know, you like to do that a lot,” you remarked, throwing a good natured glare his way.

“Well, I’m good at what I do then,” Namjoon stated.

“Which should be working, don’t need you following me out the door,” you said, sighing as you collected the remainder of your important items.

The rest could be left here, consider it a gift to the next unfortunate person who has to work here.

“Hey, text me okay?” He said, giving you a little wave.

“Will do, see ya Joon,” you said, returning the wave before heading towards the door.

—

Two weeks later you found yourself on a plane heading to Las Vegas.

How did you find yourself here? Well, it was a rather impulsive decision. But you and Namjoon had decided to take the rest of your earnings from your job and make a vacation out of it. You were taking a week in the US and spending time in Vegas to get a little wind in your sails before moving back in with your parents. 

Did that take what little wind you had in your sails out? Maybe, but that's besides the point. This was your way of giving the middle finger to your old job by blowing your money on something less than recommended. 

A trip to Vegas was exactly your soul needed after four years of behaving like a good little desk minion. Years of filing and coffee runs, all going to be blown to smithereens. Thank God for that too. You didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about what had been, only what was going to be the best week of your life. 

You had a couple friends that lived in the states, and you were going to meet up with them after landing and unpacking at your hotel. Jessi and Lily were waiting anxiously for you to arrive. 

Jessi: Bitch, I can’t believe you’re actually coming. After all these years of begging, pleading and what not, you’re dumbass comes here on a whim. But, still excited to see youuu xoxoxo.

YOU: R00D. I was working and busy with trying to further my career that capped off at a measly management position. Where the hell were you m8?

LILBITCH: Okay, it is like midnight here so can yall quit your yapping and do the sleep sleep? K thnx.

YOU: Sorry Lily, Jessi decided to be a boob in the group chat. Rest young one.

Jessi: ExCuSE? I Did NO SucH thInG?!?

YOU: You did! And are still doing it!

LILBITCH: Can yall argue in a separate thread plz?

Jessi: Nah, bugging you is wayyyy more entertaining.

LILBITCH: I pick the worst friends. Consider yourself disowned.

YOU: Children children, I come to bring peace to all four nations.

Jessi: The only thing you bring peace to is a party, and that’s what we’re going to fix while you’re here. You are going to get wasted and you are gonna like iiitttt >:(

LILBITCH: Jessi what are you even doing up?

Jessi: Sleep is for the weak.

LILBITCH: No, it’s for people. You know, who aren’t fucked in the head??

YOU: We gonna ignore the fact that she practically said I don’t know how to party?

Jessi: I am perfectly sane!

LILBITCH: Yeah right....

YOU: So we are ignoring that deep insult? K great. 

Jessi: Sorry Y/N, it’s just been so long since we’ve all been together like this I’m so excited. I’m gonna put you in my man stealing clothes and you’re gonna get dicked down while you’re here! Yasssss, I love my plan already.

YOU: THERE IS A CHILD IN HERE!

LILBITCH: Woman we’re both older than you. You’re the child. Who doesn’t know how to party apparently. 

YOU: And here I was thinking you loved me Lily. This hurts. This hurts deep.

Jessi: So, slutty clothes shopping here we come???

LILBITCH: I read the word shopping and I’m so down.

Jessi: yAS

YOU: Some of my dearest friends. Insult me then demand to dress me like a blowup doll? WTF??

Jessi: Not a blow up doll! Is there a tamer version of those Lily?

LILBITCH: I mean not really.

Jessi: You’ll be the sexiest blow up doll out there!

YOU: I don’t like this.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are beginning our ascent. Please silent all devices and buckle up! Thank you for choosing Korean Airways! Enjoy your flight!”

YOU: Well you two can think of more diabolical ways to get me laid and I will be none the wiser. See you girls soon. Love ya! <3

You shut your phone off and let your head rest against the cushioned seat. Letting the rumble of the cabin lull you to sleep.

--

“Y/N!!!!” Jessi squealed as she came running for you. 

You’d slept most of the plane ride, but now you were stiff in the joints and her frame colliding with your own sent the two of you tumbling. 

“Oof, Jess! What the hell man, you’re gonna break me,” you whined as the older woman started squeezing the daylights out of you. 

“Alright pda couple break it up,” Lily’s voice filled your ears. 

You stood quickly and brought her into a hug too. 

“It’s good to see you,” you whispered, rubbing her back as you separated.

“Good to see you too, have you lost weight?” she asked, making you spin around for confirmation.

“Maybe maybe not, I wasn’t exactly eating the healthiest diet when I was at the firm so, maybe I just gained it in different places,” you laughed. 

There was a prickle on the back of your neck. Your guard went up and you looked around. But didn’t see anyone staring. Although, you were uncomfortable.

“Come on, let’s get going. We have a lot to do before tonight!” Jessi said, practically dragging you out of the terminal.

“Jesus Jessi I have ligaments and bones, those things can break you know!” you whined, but she didn’t relent. 

Climbing into the car you still felt a chill of fear run up your spine. But didn’t let it bother you. Right now was about you and your friends, not being a little paranoid after a long flight. Plus, you were abroad, there were tons of people around and that was more than likely throwing your radar off a little bit. 

“Okay, mall here we come!” Lily said with excitement in her voice. 

“But what about heading to the hotel to unpack?” you asked. 

“Oh, we cancelled your reservation. Did you know you saved almost a thousand bucks if you stay with me?” Jessi said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Guys I don’t wanna burden you!” 

“You aren’t going to be, our most recent roommate has vacated the room and left it in perfect condition. It can be yours if you decide you wanna stay for a while?” Lily suggested with a brow wiggle.

“You two are impossible,” you complained, leaning your head against the window.

“Impossibly smart,” Jessi narked. 

You sighed as you watched the cityscape pass you by. Jessi and Lily chatted about nothing it seemed like, but it was comforting that you all fell back into rhythm so quickly after so long of not seeing one another. It made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of being apart. But you were here now, and that’s what mattered. 

Lily was telling you all about her work at the little cafe she co-owns. She handles the customer service end while her partner handles the more... businessy aspect. 

“And then one of my servers swears she saw a ghost of an old lady in the back room. The building used to be a house but now we have renovated it and turned it into the cafe like I’ve told you. But, I looked into it. And a lady did actually die in there in the fifties. How fucking crazy is that!? And, get this, if it hadn’t happened within the last ten years, the realtors don’t have to divulge that information. How fucked,” Lily sighs. 

Jessi pulls into the parking lot of a large shopping center and you girls all get out, wallets at the ready. 

Linking arms with them you smiled brightly and started walking towards the door. 

About an hour later, your feet were killing you and you hadn’t even tried anything on, much to the dismay of your friends. 

“Come on Y/N, you need to at least try one thing on in this next shop,” Jessi pleaded. 

“Why? I packed clothes you know?” you said, 

“And knowing you they won’t be attention getting enough,” Lily commented.

“Rude, you don’t know what I got,” you scoffed. 

Lily rolled her eyes and picked you up off the comfortable bench you had settled down on and now you were being dragged off of it like a leech of an arm. 

“Come on Y/N, I have the perfect place in mind,” Jessi announced, leading the pack towards another stylish little boutique. 

“If I try something on will you guys quit pestering me?” you whined out. 

“Maybe, depends on if we like it or not,” Lily’s voice rang in your ear. 

Somewhere, deep down, you knew letting them drag you to a shopping mall was a bad idea. But you hadn’t realized how bad until they had you dressed to the gills in sequins, sparkles and everything glittery. 

“Guys this stuff is itchy!” you said, itching your thigh, that was barely covered, for emphasis. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, you look great! It really shows off those curves!” Jessi complimented, spinning you around.

“I brought the same style of dress, but in a popping red color. It will compliment her eyes for certain,” the lovely assistant of the boutique said. Of course they were trained to reach for the priciest piece they had, and tell you it would look good on you. But hey, A for effort. 

“Oooh! Y/N, try it on, try it on!” Jessi yelled. 

“Shh, we are in a store!” you scolded. 

“God you’re worse than my mom,” Jessi rolled her eyes.

“Am not. I’m just trying to contain my two four year olds!” you said exasperated.

“As the youngest isn’t it your responsibility to be rambunctious. Getting into all kinds of trouble?” 

“That’s what we’re here for Lily, she’s had a stick up her ass for too long called adulting,” Jessi teased.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” you asked, teasing right back.

Jessi just laughed and went to go peruse the racks again. Lily snuggled up beside you and wrapped her arms around you tightly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered.

Smiling you gave her a tight hug. “I missed you guys too.”

Jessi came back with a sexy white number that has cut off sleeves that draped off your shoulder elegantly and it was a little longer than the others they’d thrown you in during that afternoon.

Seeing your eyes looking at the dress with interest, Jessi knew she had won. 

 “Wanna know the best part?” Jessi asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction.

“What?” you asked. 

“It was on the sale rack!” she smirked. 

“Okay give it here,” you said, holding your hand out. Jessi smiled and plopped the dress in your hand without hesitation. 

You shuffled into the dressing room and pulled the garment on. You looked at yourself in the mirror and almost fell over. This wasn’t you. The girl looking back at you was a beautiful woman, someone with poise and elegance. Or was that what the dress conveyed? Because you felt almost empowered in this dress...

“Okay, show us what you got!” the girls said, waiting for you outside the dressing room.

Stepping down onto the floor the girls were silent. 

“Well?” you asked, feeling a little self conscious at all their staring. 

“Y/N, if you don’t buy that dress then I will and force you into it tonight,” Jessi said, still staring.

“Does it look alright?’ you asked, tugging at the fabric.

“Yes now quit fidgeting! We’re trying to figure out what shoes, make up and hair we need to do,” Lily said, settling your hands at your side. 

“I think a red pump,” Jessi said, running off to one side of the store.

“And a red lip to match!” Lily echoed. 

“I love the way you think,” Jessi said back.

You looked down at your bare feet on the floor and sighed. 

“I don’t know, should we go clubbing tonight? I just got here and kinda want to-”

“Not bail out on us and have the fun you wanted to have by coming to Vegas?” Lily offered. 

You sighed and rubbed your face. Jessi came back with a crimson red pair of heels that already made your feet hurt. But you decided to quiet down and just enjoy the time you had with your friends. It was so nice to bicker with them and laugh, it really made your heart soar to be here with them. Even if they were forcing you into some uncomfortable shoes. At their cores, they were great girls, and you were so lucky to have them in your life. 

“There, see how it lengthens your legs?” Jessi pointed out. 

“See how it will destroy my ankles?” you said back.

They just laughed and you guys took everything to the checkout counter. The clerk cashed you out and you ladies were on your way. 

“I’m so glad you bought the shoes too! They look so killer with that dress, and we’re going to make you the prettiest thing at the club tonight! Not that you need much help,” Lily smirked, linking her arms with yours.

You shoved her a little but walked down the hall with her happily.

Until you felt that chill that had run down your spine earlier, reappear. You stopped in your tracks and turned, certain that someone was watching you. But no one was there... It made unease churn in your stomach. Jessi seemed to notice your hesitation and came over beside you. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, trying to look in a similar direction as you.

“No no, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” you smiled weakly, going to move forward.

“If you’re sure,” Lily answered, following close behind.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

After that you only went to one more department store and found nothing of interest, so you guys decided to call it. Walking back to the car, Jessi ran ahead to make sure that it was unlocked. Lily and you walked at an even pace, just enjoying each other's company.

Loading everything into the car you took off down the road for Jessi and Lily’s house.

Slowly, the sensation of being watched faded from your mind. And the three of you went back to your bickering and teasing. 

Finally, you pulled into the driveway. 

Jessi and Lily were quick to help you with your luggage, making sure everything got into the spare bedroom. And then, the work began. 

“Babe, we love you, but you gotta take a shower,” Jessi said, pinching her nose for effect.

“Rude, I literally took a shower before I boarded the plane,” you told them.

“Yeah, and you smell like plane and food court, so go. Cleanse thyself,” Lily commented, looking at her phone.

“Fine fine,” you agreed, heading towards the bathroom. 

Jessi handed you the dress and some undergarments and went into the kitchen. 

The hot water felt heavenly on your body, washing off the grim of travel and shopping. It was nice. The foamy soap on your head invigorating you. You shaved every part of your body known to man, and woman to be honest. 

But when you stepped out of the shower. Instead of the normal underwear you had picked out, was something else. 

Sorry, but we had to burn those granny panties. Wear this instead! We bought them today while you were busy being one with the bench. We know they’ll fit you!

Jessi & Lily

“Those little shits!” you exclaimed, looking down in despair at your underwear option now. 

Pink lacy panties were set on the bathroom counter. How did you not even hear them come in!? You looked at the bra and were certain that you’d be able to see a nipple through the lace that was supposed to be covering your shit. But apparently the quest to get you laid was a serious endeavor in their minds. So, to humor them, you put on the garments. That, in fact, fit perfectly.

“Those creeps,” you shuddered, wondering how your friends had known your exact size.

Pulling on the dress you bought earlier, you marveled at yourself in the mirror. You looked really good. And just as before, you felt as if you could conquer the world, in just this dress. But, you knew the only thing you’d conquer was maybe a bar scene, which would work. For now.

Walking out you found the nasty culprits of the underwear heist sitting around a vanity full of makeup.

“Wanna tell me why I’m wearing underwear that barely covers anything?” you said, venom in your tone.

“Because you put it on,” Jessi said, with a smirk.

“You guys are so fucking nosy,” you whined, throwing your headback in a mock tantrum.

“We aren’t nosy enough, when was the last time you got dicked down?” Jessi asked, suddenly serious.

Scandalized you made a squeak of discomfort. 

“Wh-Why the sudden curiosity??” you asked.

“Because, we gotta know how out of practice you are,” Lily said, as if it were obvious.

“I’m not out of practice!” you shrieked. 

“So it was recently then?” Jessi smiled. 

“No! I mean-shut up!” you cried.

“When was the last time Y/N,” Lily said calmly.

“Three years ago,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defense.

The two girls almost choked. 

“THREE YEARS!?” Jessi screamed.

“I’m right here, there’s no need to scream,” you said.

“BUT Y/N, THAT’S THREE YEARS,” Jessi yelled again.

“I can tell time, Jessi,” you commented.

“How? You’re practically a nun,” Lily snorted.

“I am not!” you defended.

“Sweetheart, listen we are doing this out of love,” Jessi shushed you, cradling you to her chest. “We will help you. Sit down.”

“This is all very offensive, just so ya’ll know,” you said, pointing to them with an accusing finger.

“Shut up and sit down,” Lily said, grabbing her hair appliances. 

You settled into silence, letting the girls do whatever they wanted to you. You found it was easier this way than fighting with them the whole time. As much as you loved them, these girls were bossy and pushy. But, you wouldn’t have them any other way. They helped even you out, making sure you got out there and did have some fun in your life. 

Lily was in the process of doing your hair and styling it the way she thought would work the best, while Jessi was deeply focused on doing your makeup. You saw the crimson colored lipstick come out and knew it was as Lily recommended earlier.

Jessi painted it on your lips with a precision that was awe inspiring. You just stayed still and let them continue their work. Enjoying the transformation happening before your eyes. Before, you were a nervous little office worker. Now, you were a girl on a mission. What mission was still to be decided, but it made you feel powerful. Not saying that you didn’t feel powerful without it, but it was nice to get dressed up every once in a while and to feel sexy. 

Lily put down the hair products and smiled at her work. 

“You look fucking hot,” she pointed out. 

“Don’t make her smile. I'm working on the concealer around her lips,” Jessi whined.

“Sorry sorry, just, she’s really beautiful,” Lily smiled. 

“We been knew,” Jessi smirked. 

“Right right,” Lily said, going to gather the tights and shoes.

“Thanks Jessi,” you said as you stood up, stretching lightly.

You felt a light smack to your butt and you smiled back at her. 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she giggled. 

“Alright ladies, we need to make a game plan for the night!” Lily announced as she walked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow at her. 

“Who wants to get laid, who wants to wing woman and who wants to be the sober one,” Lily said.

“Well, Y/N is the getting laid one,” Jessi confirmed.

“Did you ask Y/N if she wants to get laid?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Fine, Y/N, do you not want me to find you a fine specimen of man that could knock your socks off in the bedroom?” Jessi said.

“Well... I mean, it’s not that I don’t want that but...”

“But what?” Lily asked, coming to sit next to Jessi.

“I’m shy, I don’t really attract people. I’m more of a hang out in the corner until I’m drunk enough to approach someone type of gal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Don’t ruin my hard work,” Jessi warned. 

“Sorry, nervous habit,” you answered, stopping the action quickly.

“Y/N, it’s all up to you, we don’t really have to go out but I thought this is what you came here for? To let loose and have some fun before moving back with your parents. But if all you wanna do is have a girls week then we can do that too... But, honestly you look amazing and any guy would be lucky to get with you,” Lily said. 

You thought it over. 

This is what you came here for. To let loose like she said. But now that it was happening you were retreating into office worker Y/N, not the badass you wanted to be for at least a week. So, you didn’t see the harm in getting laid. Honestly, it might get some of the pent up stress out of your system, and that sounded great.

“No, you guys are right. I wanted to come here to be free for a while. What’s the point in hiding in the corner when I can be the center of attention for once in my life. I say, let’s do it,” you said, confident.

Jessi squealed excitedly and clapped her hands. 

“Yes! We are gonna be the best wingwomen you’ve ever seen Y/N! We’ll pick a great one out for you,” she said.

“She also has eyes, Jessi, she might find the one,” Lily chastised. 

“Yes, yes sorry,” she said, shuffling through her closet in disinterest.

“Okay, so Jessi and I are both going to be wingwoman. It’ll be a shared effort so we can pick the best guy,” Lily announced. 

“Right,” you said. 

“But like Lily said, you have eyes. If you find someone you’re vibing with, let us know!” Jessi said back. 

“Okay,” you agreed.

The rest of the evening was spent making out rules and exchanging safety measures to make sure no one got hurt or left behind.

This was going to be very fun.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Paul Higgs: Baby Daze

Tomorrow I will return you to your regularly scheduled whump programming. Today... this is what wanted to be written.

CW: Teen pregnancy, some crass language surrounding said pregnancy, brief gun reference, some organized crime references

Approximately eighteen years before Tristan Higgs became another casualty of WRU…

-

"Well, look who’s here! Billy Higgs’s boy, come to see us after school, then?" Sean Malley claps him on the back and Paul nearly stumbles forward, just barely catching himself as he crosses the threshold from the sun-warmed walkway with straggly weeds growing stubbornly up through the cracks into the chilly shadowed warehouse. His sneakers scrape along the ground, but he stays standing.

He's hardly even as big as a stick compared to his dad's work buddies, all older guys with thick muscled forearms and sleeves rolled up to their elbows. He’s never had much muscle on him at all, but then his dad didn’t have much in old photos either. Maybe he’d get some as he got older, if he worked here. If they let him. "How’s things, hm? Keeping your grades up?”

Paul smiles, a slightly strained expression. The smile is automatic, it’s what everyone expects with small talk. At school he mostly doesn’t even bother with it, but with his dad’s friends… well, a smile’s polite. Right? Friendly. 

He tries to look more friendly. He needs them to say yes to what he’s about to ask for.

“They’re fine,” He says, squinting as his eyes adjust to the change in light. “Same as always, A’s and B’s.”

Mostly B’s, but they don’t need to know that.

“Good, good.” Sean slides an arm around his shoulders, jovial as always. Paul tries not to be visibly uncomfortable at the touch. Everyone is always touchy, in the world, and he’s never liked it much. Except with Ronnie, but… that’s different. “So, talk to us, Paulie. What's got Billy’s boy mucking around here at the Garden with the old-timers?" 

It's not actually much of a garden, unless you count the dandelions in the sidewalks and the bits of scraggly grass along the edges of the pavement as your rows of plants. Instead, the big warehouse stretches wider than two Walmarts, chopped off into pieces by the standalone temporary walls inside that don't reach the ceiling. 

The ‘Garden’ is a place where things happen that no one with a badge is ever supposed to see. There's shouting, good-natured calling out of sums and figures and code words Paul doesn't know, bouncing and echoing in a constant chaos of sound. Metal scrapes, an odd clicking Paul vaguely recognizes but can’t quite place until he thinks of his dad cleaning his guns now and then at night, carefully putting them back together once he’s done. 

All that noise lays heavy like a blanket over his skin. He pushes past it - he's got a reason to be here, and he won't let Ronnie down. He can’t let her down.

"I'm here to work," He says, going for strong and loud. He doesn't change expression when the men around him laugh. 

He doesn't think their laughter is meant to be unkind, and besides, he doesn't really care if it is. These men have all known him since he was born - if anyone’s going to give him what he needs, it’ll be them. "My dad told me I could pick up some shifts this weekend as a lookout, that you pay cash at the end of the shift, right away. That I could get a couple hundred if I’m good at it, maybe five if I do some running, too.”

"Oh he said that, did he?" Sean meets eyes with Cilly, whose real name Paul has never learned. He isn’t entirely sure anyone here has ever given him their real legal name. Not even Sean. "Will might've let the family know first before he sent his boy here, hm? 

"Well, it's. It's important I get cash. Um. Fast. I just spoke to him, probably he'll call you in a bit thinking he's giving you a warning." Paul tries for another smile, and hopes it's warm enough. A bit of coppery strawberry blond hair falls over his green eyes as he looks hopefully from man to man. 

He's not even eighteen yet, but really, isn't that even better for a lookout? He knows where they do their business, he knows who to watch for, and he doesn’t look like he’s one of them at all. He's paid attention, sat up at night making maps of where they work and what they do. He knows they’ve gotten into business with WRU, even, the big Facility up in Berras has been sending people down here now and then. He’s good at this sort of thing. He knows he can do this. He’s going to make a living at this one day, and everyone starts somewhere.

He just… has to convince them. These men aren't unreasonable, and they're family. Well, sort of. In a way. In that they all commit crimes with his dad. And some of them actually are real family, although he’s not always sure exactly who.

"What d'you need cash for that can't wait for your parents to come back from Florida, then?" That's Cilly, scratching idly at a red spot on his face, sipping a mug of hot tea like they're at a kitchen counter and not a fold-out table by a warehouse door. The others all have takeout coffee cups, but not Cilly. 

Paul's mom buys him new mugs on all her vacations. A gentleman among thieves, she said once. 

Nah, Paul's dad had said. Just a thief. But he puts on airs for you. 

All the more reason to show him my appreciation, Bill. 

The mug he’s drinking from now was one of Paul’s mom’s presents to him. It has a little palmetto tree on the side and Nothin’ Could Be Finer written in swirling script. It came from a trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina when Paul was seven. 

He hated that trip. He never liked sand. Or the ocean. Or the noise of all the people everywhere in the street. He would have been happy with a book on the couch in the condo if they’d have let him stay there. 

"They're not in-"

"Think they're in Georgia," Conor pipes up, the oldest with hair gone nearly gray, cousins to the real boss, a man Paul has met maybe three times and knows only as Mr. Sondheim - which isn’t even a little bit his actual name. 

Conor makes Paul’s skin prickle, the way he thinks maybe a cat feels when it sees a mean-looking dog across the street. Paul's dad came home once with blood he had to wash off his hands and a shirt he had to throw out. When Paul asked, he said only, Conor's temper is going to get someone who matters killed one day. Too bad his grandson's as bad as he is. "Aren't they?"

"Nah," Sean says, shaking his head. "Florida. Definitely Florida."

"Actually," Paul starts. "They're in-"

"I thought Texas," Cilly says, almost thoughtful. He interrupts Paul thoughtlessly, and Paul’s face colors a little with embarrassment. He feels like the odd man out in a conversation meant to be about him. 

"They went to Alabama," Paul finally says, soft. Thinking no one’s listening, but they all look at him then. That's worse than when they weren't paying attention at all. He never meets any one person's eyes, instead focusing on Sean Malley's forehead, a spot that'll look like eye contact without having to be it. He's never liked having to look too many people in the eye. 

Or anyone, actually. 

"Ah, all right then. Alabama. Well. What couldn't wait for them to get back from Alabama, Paulie-Wol?"

No one's called him Paulie-Wol since he was eleven - and he hated it then. He blushes even darker. He's always been easy to make blush, and they laugh again. It's a little meaner this time. He has to not care. It’s important not to care, so they’ll let him work. 

Paul Higgs straightens his narrow shoulders and pulls a crumpled but of paper, shiny on one side, out from his back pocket. "This is why. I need money. Fast. For this."

He can't help how his voice dips, hushed, almost in awe. Sean is the first to take the little piece of paper, eyes widening in surprise at what he sees, before he hands it to Conor, who whistles through his teeth. Cilly takes it next, with a soft exhalation that's either curse or prayer. 

With this group, it could be either. Or both. Paul’s dad always says God doesn’t care overmuch about the difference.

"You're a bit young, aren't you? To need money for this?" Sean asks, and he's… concerned, Paul thinks, and he tries to square himself up even taller. “What’re you, Paulie, fifteen?”

"S-seventeen. It’s-... we didn’t plan on it, Sean, it just happened." This time when his face stays red, heat burning under the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose, they don't laugh. All their smiles are gone, too.

They've gone serious, these men who aren't quite blood but might as well be. They aren't laughing at or with or because of him. They look worried about him.

"Paulie," Conor says, shaking his head. "Paulie, you know better than this. Don't they teach you how to make sure this shit don't just happen? Thought we’d stop having teenagers knocking each other up once we got past the eighties.”

"They did. I had a whole health class where we-... but it doesn’t matter, it still. Happened, okay?" The absolute last thing he wants to do is talk to these old guys about Ronnie, and why, and when. If they ask him he’ll melt into the floor, and die, and just be dead right here and now.  

“So, when you say you need money… Are you looking to drive her up to Berras?”

“No, that’s not... We talked about it, but she said she already thought about it and made her decision. This isn’t… Don’t look at me like that. I like her decision. I’m happy.”

“You are?” Sean blinks, surprised.

“Yes! I'm happy, so don't tell me I fucked up, because I did. I know I did, but… but I talked to Ronnie, and we have a whole plan and I need money for my plan. And just. Look at it.”

Sean glances back down, taking the paper back, smoothing it out. Shiny on one side, it's a printed black and white image, a smeary blur of monochrome shades. Unmistakable in its center, more or less, is a gently rounded blob of white, topped with another and with other little blobs coming off its sides. Labeled along the top is Baby Botham, 14 weeks 3 days. 

“Botham?” Sean asks, head cocked to one side.

“That’s… that’s Ronnie’s last name. She, uh. She didn’t tell them… Because we’re not married.” Paul squares himself up again. “Yet. We’re not married yet.”

He tries not to think about Ronnie crying on his shoulder about how her parents and her sister had screamed at her when she told them, that no one was talking to her and they might throw her out, like this. His throat will close up if he does, in hurt for her, and in anger. 

His own parents he’d just told on the phone today, heard the long silence on the other end. Whispers that didn’t quite carry through the line. Then his mother had said, brisk and no-nonsense as always, So what does Ronnie want to do? We’ll help however we can. Will she need somewhere to stay?

“You’re not married yet,” Cilly repeats, not with derision, just with a kind of flat uncertainty. “You’re seventeen, Paulie. Little young to be talking marriage, don’t you think?”

“Well, we’re talking it, anyway,” Paul says firmly. “And don’t tell me it’s stupid. We already made our minds up.”

“Well, far be it for me to question your judgement,” Sean deadpans. “Since you’re clearly making excellent decisions already-”

“I got married at sixteen,” Conor points out. “Wife and I been married forty-two years this December, too. Sometimes it works out.”

“Different world, different times,” Cilly counters, and Conor has to nod in agreement to that. “Lots of those didn’t work out either, now did they? Besides, kids got options now we didn’t have back then.”

“Ronnie doesn’t want those other options,” Paul says, forcing his voice to be loud enough to carry, surprising all three men, who give him a new kind of look. Maybe even seeing him as nearly a man and not a kid, just for the moment. “She doesn’t. I never told her to do or not do anything, we talked about it, and she knows what she wants to do, and I agree with her. Ronnie and I want to get married, and we’ll need somewhere we can live when-... when the baby comes. So I need to start making money. And I want-... I need some fast, this weekend.”

Cilly’s expression goes cold. “Don’t tell me your folks are making you find a place that fast. I’ll take Billy to the woodshed myself if he’d be such a bastard to his own kid when things get tough-”

“He’s not,” Paul says quickly. “They’re not. Mom and Dad aren’t-... but they get it, they’re helping us. It’s not for an apartment, not yet. It’s so I can buy her some stuff.”

"This is a serious thing," Sean says, and he rubs his thumb over what Paul is pretty sure is his baby's head. The blobs are all sort of odd to look at, but… he's pretty sure that one's the head. It’s where he would put the head, if he were designing a person, anyway. "But I can see you’re quite the serious young man, now. What sort of stuff are you lookin’ to buy, Paulie?" 

Paul swallows, nervously rubbing his palms along the seems on the outside of his pants. “I… I don’t know. What do you buy someone who’s pregnant? I thought, like, baby clothes? Or a crib?”

“No, no, no.” Sean shakes his head. “You can’t just get her baby stuff, not this early. You are not starting with a crib, Paulie. You got nowhere to even put one yet.”

“Then… what do I buy?” Paul looks from man to man. “I’ve never known a pregnant person before, not anyone I cared about.”

“You were around for my wife’s last pregnancy,” Sean says, mildly offended.

Paul shrugs. 

The three older men look at each other, and then sigh nearly as one. Someone pushes out the fourth chair from the fold-up table and Paul sits, each of the other men sitting in turn. Sean picks up his phone and dials. “Hey, Don. Let everybody know we’re off-limits for the next couple hours, ‘til lunch. Yeah, Billy Higgs’s boy stopped by. He’s sniffing around for some lookout work this weekend. Find him some decent jobs for me, will you?”

Paul starts to smile, and it’s genuine this time. Sean hands him back the little picture of the blob that will become a baby, his and Ronnie’s baby, and he tries not to crumble it fully in his hands, worried his sweat will smear the ink. She’ll get another one in a few weeks, said her doctor told her it’ll look more like a person, then. Less like a weird frog. Or like a really, really bad painting.

“Thanks, I’ll owe you.” Sean hangs up the phone and grins, leaning on his elbows on the wobbly little table. The sun shines warmly through the open warehouse doors on Paul’s back. “All right. Between the three of us, we’ve got, what, ten kids?”

“Yeah, but five of those are all Cilly’s,” Conor points out. “And mine stopped bein’ kids decades ago.”

“Yeah, but babies don’t change, and they don’t need much. You need a pen and paper to write things down, Paulie?”

“Write… write what down?” 

“What you’re gonna spend your money on, for your girlfriend. You don’t just show up with baby clothes, kid, you gotta go all out. Let’s talk date, let’s talk gifts for this Ronnie, let’s talk it all out.”

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” Cilly says. “They all get that book, right? Isn’t that the one?”

Sean snorts, derisive. “Don’t get her that, not this early. That damn book had my wife in fucking tears telling her everything that could go wrong. We need to think of a happier book than that.”

“Well, call your wife and ask her what she’d want, then.”

“Maybe I will.”

“You should!”

“She’s liable to start planning a damn baby shower if I do. You know how Christa is about little ones.”

Cilly grins. “Think she’ll make those deviled eggs I like for the shower?”

“Cilly, for God’s sake, we found out about this five minutes ago.”

“Right, but... deviled eggs.”

Paul takes a deep breath, and sits back in his chair. “I’ll remember, whatever you say. I promise. I don’t need to write it down. Just tell me what I should get her, what I should do.”

“Right. Well, then.” Sean spreads his hands. “Let’s talk gifts.”

-

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump ,  @whump-tr0pes  @downriver914 @vickytokio @whumpiary @orchidscript @moose-teeth @nonsensical-whump

[zodiyack]

One Of Us

Requested by anon: Hi 💙 could you do a peaky blinders x brother reader where the brother feels left out and goes and does something stupid and the others have to save him but it ends with fluff?? I love your writing so much btw 💙💙

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Brother!/Cousin!Male!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, (slight?)angst, fluff, me not proof-reading

Words: 1,937

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Y/n- Y/n- Y/n! I don’t see why you have to do this-” Polly pleaded, attempting to block the door and prevent her nephew from leaving.

“Aunt Pol...They never include me. Think I’m not man enough probably, but I’ll prove them wrong.” He held his aunt’s hands. “I’m old enough. Man enough. I’m gonna show my big brothers that I can do it. I promise, I’ll be safe.”

“B-but... Tommy’ll kill me if I let you go. I would kill me if I let you go,” she chuckled, “I can’t just...”

“You’re right.” Y/n hugged his aunt before picking her up and turning around so she was on the opposite side of him and the door. “You can’t. But I can. Goodbye Pol.”

Only three hours ago Y/n and Polly were at the front door. Two hours ago, the boys returned. One hour ago, Tommy had found out. And now, they were discussing what to do or where Y/n even went.

“For fuck’s sake, Pol! All you had to do was watch him!”

Polly’s face, red with tears, showed a newfound rage. “You are not my parent, Thomas! I am your elder, I am your Aunt. Yes, I was supposed to watch him, but you- You will never boss me around like that. Especially when your brother is fucking missing.”

“How would you know if he’s missing or not.”

“Because. He told me that he was going to prove that he was man enough...whatever that means. Anyways, I happen to know that what he said indicates that he’s putting himself in danger.”

Tommy drank straight from the bottle in his hands, eyes wide as they scanned the room. He tried to focus on something else, to get drunk and distracted, but as much as he denied it; his aunt was right. “Get John and Ar-”

She slapped him, earning a bewildered look from her nephew. “I said not to tell me what to do.”

“Go. Get. John. And. Arthur.” Tom groaned and rested his face in his hands, “Trust me, you’re going to want to listen to me, Pol.” He didn’t even have to look up to know that she’d left the room; the door slamming shut and her heels clacking against the floor until they faded out.

The two brothers he’d instructed his aunt to get rushed into the room within about five minutes, panting for breath after running throughout Tommy’s home. He explained the situation to them, “So for whatever reason, our little brother had decided to do something. As for what he’s done... I haven’t a clue.”

“Maybe he went to a bar?”

“Polly said his last words to her before he left had something to do with ‘proving he was man enough.’”

“Man enough?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You reckon he went to go 'become a man’?” John cackled, elbowing his oldest brother and wiggling his brows. Tommy rolled his eyes as he walked over and flicked his younger brother in the ear. “Ouch! Fuck off, Tom!”

“Our younger brother’s sex-life is nothing of our business, and I highly doubt he’d do something like that to prove a point to us...” Tommy walked back to his chair and sat back down. He rested an elbow on his desk and his face upon his fist, thinking.

But that was it.

“Wait...”

“What is it Tommy?” Arthur and John were pulled from their own trances of thought with eagerness to hear what Thomas had to say.

“That’s it.” He stood up. “He wouldn’t do something like that to prove a point to us, but he’d do some other stuff...we just have to think like him.”

John’s head turned to Arthur, the older brother’s actions following his younger’s, as their eyes bulged with realization. “Remember that one time?” John started, catching both his brother’s attention. “At Ada’s party? Y/n was being pushed around by some of Ada’s friends, as well as Ada, so he ran off and hid?”

Arthur’s eyes lit up as he was pulled into the memory, “We all teamed up and thought about the last time he’d hidden and how he strategized.”

“And then we found him, in mother’s closet, huddled in a ball.” Tommy finished, a small smile gracing his features while he reminisced. “He always finds something comfortable and safe in his own opinion. And if he wants to prove something to us, he’ll stay in his comfort zone but step out of ours.”

The three of them held the silence, feeling lost in the childhood euphoria before Ada spoke up from the doorway, startling her brothers slightly. “Richmond.”

“What?”

“One of the people we’re going against with race bets. Felix Richmond. I remember Y/n telling me how, and I quote, ‘fucking stupid Richmond is if he thinks he can go against the Shelbys.’ Then he told me he could take on the man. I thought he was kidding but...“

Polly scoffed as she approached the door, stealing the cigarette from her niece’s fingers and placing it between her own lips. “You’ve got to teach that boy that we are not indestructible.”

“Nah, he’s right.”

“Right,” Ada snatched her cigarette back, ignoring the glare she received from her aunt, “and probably dead.”

“Key word, little sister. Probably.” Arthur winked teasingly as he shrugged his coat on, the other two Shelby brother’s doing the same. 

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“To rescue our idiot of a little brother.” Thomas walked to his aunt and grabbed her shoulders. “I promise you, aunt Pol, I’ll come back with him.”

“You better.”

They walked into the mansion, guided by two men with very large and very threatening guns. John couldn’t keep his hands to himself as he followed behind, resulting in him getting nudged by the end of one of the guns.

“Tommy! Arthur! John! My least favorite Shelbys! How are you? Wait- no, don’t answer that. Let me skip the crap, alright?” Felix cleared his throat, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“Our little brother. Really dumb, impulsive...young but acts even younger.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, younger. Like a spoiled two year old bastard.”

“Ah!” Richmond cackled loudly, holding his stomach. “So all you Shelby boys?”

Almost as if he knew it would happen, Tommy’s arm came up, blocking Arthur from moving forward as a reaction to Richmond’s teasing. “He’s just trying to get to us, Arthur.”

“Well he’s doing a damn good job at it. Where’s our brother, you fucking bastard?”

“That wasn’t very nice.” His eyes moved to Thomas. “Tommy, do me a favor and get your ugly mutt to sit down and shut the hell up.”

Before any of the brothers could do anything about Richmond’s comment, the door behind him opened to reveal two heavily armed men carrying out Y/n, who squirmed and fought as hard as he could. His attempts managed to make him slip from their grasps, as well as give him a good shot at one of the men’s faces. He punched him, gifting him a not-so-pleasant-gift of a black eye before trying to dart down the stairs.

The man who hadn’t been hit grabbed Y/n’s collar, pulling him back harshly.

“You see, I have your brother, and I don’t think he deserves to get away from this without a punishment. He broke into my home, tried to kill me, and just assaulted one of my men.”

“Yes, and we apologize for our brother’s not so wise decisions. Now, please, let him go.” It took everything in Tommy to not pull out his gun and shoot blindly. He knew the odds were nowhere near in his favor; Richmond’s staff were heavily armed and greatly trained. Shooting even one bullet would be the dumbest decision known to man.

Felix thought for a second then scrunched his face with frustration. “Your brothers are here to retrieve you. I’m gonna give you one chance to get out of my home and never return. You got that, boy?” Y/n nodded, “Good. Don’t fuck it up.” He shoved Y/n towards his brothers and began turning and walking back through the doors, “Now get the fuck out of my house, you gypsy fucks.”

As Y/n approached his aunt and sister, his face held guilt and empathy. Polly was the first to walk up to him, her eyes glossy with tears. She didn’t speak, only started at him- checking for any injuries. Just as he was about to lean forward and hug her, she slapped him.

Y/n stumbled back, hand clasping his face as he looked back at his aunt. She furrowed her brows and began to cry before walking forward and hugging him.

Polly pulled away and allowed Ada to hug her younger brother. She shook her head and laughed, squeezing him tightly as she cried into his shoulder. “It’s okay, don’t cry Ada...you’re gonna be okay...”

“Shit, Y/n- I’m not crying because I’m sad, idiot! I’m crying because I’m happy you’re alright. I thought you went and got yourself killed!”

Y/n scratched the back of his neck nervously, Ada walking backwards to pull away from their hug. With a chuckle, he confessed the thoughts that’d been haunting him since they’d left Richmond’s mansion. “To be honest, I think I would’ve had these three not shown up.”

His aunt walked back over to them, handing each of the five a glass and filling it up. “The next time you even think of do something like that,” she paused, lifting the bottle upright and holding eye contact with Y/n, “I’ll gut you myself.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur, cheers and hugs passed around in celebration. But once again, Y/n felt left out. He knew the party was for him, but the smiles and cheery spirits...it just felt like he didn’t deserve them.

Sitting outside, he hid in plain sight while he nursed a bottle of gin. He was right next to the front doors, practically starring off into space as they world around him was flushed out. Well, as he tried to flush it out.

Tommy burst through the doors to light himself a cigarette and enjoy the fresh air, but his plans changed when he noticed his little brother and his state of absence. He chuckled, putting the unlit stick back into it’s box and walked over to the boy by the doors.

“Y/n?”

He smiled and shook his head as Y/n jumped slightly. “Y-yeah, Tommy?”

“I wanted to say...I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Y/n looked up at his brother.

“For making you feel like you didn’t belong. Like you didn’t quite fit in. Believe me, you fit in perfectly. It’s my fault you don’t feel like it though. I’m so caught up in keeping you as this little boy from before I went to war, but you’re not a little boy. You’re eighteen. Finn’s a little boy, but you’re not.”

Thomas groaned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bunched up cloth looking item, “It’s time I acknowledge that for once.” He smoothed it out, “So, how about we make a deal. You wear this and know you’re one of us,” he placed the infamous Peaky-cap on Y/n’s head, “or spend the rest of your life trying to prove something we all, including you, already know.”

He grabbed the gin from Y/n’s hand and walked to the door, stopping only for a second to deliver his younger brother a smile and a message; “You never need to prove it, but nevertheless, you’ve proved it today in more ways than one. You’ve got the Shelby spirit, brother. You’re one of us.”

[dirtykpopsnaps]

Soulmates — Kim Taehyung (soulmate au)

Warnings: None

Contains: Cute soulmates!Tae and Y/N meeting each other

Requested: no

Words: 7, 395 (holy SHIT. I DID NOT EXPECT THIS TO BE SO LONG. But, uh...😳😅)

———————————————————————

The sunlight slowly makes it’s way into my room, spreading across the floor of my bedroom. The sound of my alarm is the first thing wake me up. Groaning softly, I pick up my phone and turn off the alarm, flopping back in bed. Sighing, I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. “Do I have to get up? Is work that important?” I ask myself. Finally, I let out another defeated sigh and climb out of bed, walking into the bathroom.

All around me, the house is quiet. I’m fairly sure that my family is asleep, other than one of my parents. I can hear someone down in the kitchen making breakfast. I go into the bathroom and close the door, turning toward the mirror. As soon as I catch sight of my reflection, my stomach drops and I groan loudly, dropping my face into my hands. “What. Is it. With. You. Dying. Your hair?!” I groan, pulling at my hair and cursing my soulmate. Normally, my hair is a nice, pretty Y/H/C. I like it like that. But, then...there’s my soulmate attachment.

You see, in this world, everyone has what is called a “soulmate attachment”. Some people see in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Other people see words that their soulmate writes on their skin. Some have the date that they’ll meet written at their wrist. Mine, on the other hand, is a hair color soulmate attachment. Since the day I was born, I’ve had a large stripe of hair that shows the color of my soulmate’s hair is. For a while, everything was normal. It was black and I liked it like that. Then, right around 2013 or 2014...it started changing every. other. month. At first, it was dirty blonde. That was okay. Then, it was a purpley-brown...I can deal with that. Then, one day, I woke up and it was bright. orange.

At this point, I should be used to it. My soulmate dyes his hair a lot, but...why such random colors? The weirdest day was when I woke up and, for whatever reason, it was half blonde, half pink. I nearly ripped the stripe of hair out. Now, at least the strip is a normal color. The strip of hair is a dark brown, verging slightly on black. I shake my head and sigh, pulling my fingers through my hair. “Just...Just why? I just wanna know why,” I sigh, deciding to ignore it and continue with my day.

Quickly, I go through my routine in the bathroom, then go back to my room. I pull on my work clothes, pulling my apron overtop of the plain t-shirt and work pants. The logo of the catering service I work for is splattered across the front of the apron. Once I’m ready, I head downstairs to grab some breakfast before I have to leave.

When I enter the kitchen, my mom looks over her shoulder and chuckles at me. “I see your soulmate is at it again,” she laughs. I roll my eyes, grabbing a plate from our cabinet.

“Ha ha, very funny. Yes. He dyed his hair again. And I swear I’m gonna murder him for putting me through this once I finally meet this guy,” I huff. Mom calmly tips some scrambled eggs onto my plate and I put my bread in the toaster. She just chuckles again, shaking her head.

“No, you won’t. You’ll be too in love as soon as you see him,” she smiles.

“Mhm, we’ll see how it plays out,” I say sarcastically.

I eat my breakfast calmly, thanking my soulmate silently for not dying his hair another strange color. My boss almost strangled me when I came into work with a stripe of bright blue hair about a year ago. I had to quickly explain that it was my soulmate attachment while trying to avoid his outstretched hands. I mean, there’s not much I can do about the fact that my soulmate dyes his hair weird colors. I’ve just gotta deal with it.

Calmly, I eat the food on my plate. When I’m finished, I drop my plate in the sink and hurriedly kiss my mom on the cheek. “Alright, I’m heading out. Tell Dad and Casey that I love them when they wake up,” I tell her, slipping on my work shoes.

“Will do, sweetheart. Have a good day. Hope this big job goes well!” She responds. I smile and thank her before grabbing my necessary things (ex: keys, phone, wallet, etc.), shoving them into my bag and hurrying out the door.

The drive into work is fairly easy. My work is located in a big building on Main Street and there’s literally no way to miss it. When I get there, I park in the employee’s lot out back and head inside. As always, the shop is very busy. Technically, I double as a caterer and baker. The bakery that I work at is very well known around our town and has won a bunch of awards. We’re always super busy, especially around holidays when the owner makes holiday themed snacks and treats. His peppermint peanut brittle is to *die* for.

I walk into the building and hang my bag on the hook, making sure that everything is there before I enter the bakery. I nod my head once and push open the double doors into the bakery. Already, workers are walking back and forth to give our orders. Several of the booths at the front of the shop are filled with chattering customers. At the cash register, the owner Eli (read like Ellie) turns to me. He smiles softly when he sees my hair. “I see you dyed your hair again,” he chuckles. I narrow my eyes and step up beside him to help with customers.

“The changing hair color is not my decision, El,” I remind him.

“Oh, I know. It’s just funny how frustrated it makes you,” he laughs. I roll my eyes and look at the customer before me.

The man before me is tall and lean with wide shoulders. His hair is hidden under a baseball cap, but I can just see the edges of sandy blonde-grey hair, cut short at the sides. He has a pair of dark sunglasses precariously perched on the edge of his nose. “How can I help you?” I ask sweetly, folding my hands.

“I’m here for a pick up for Kim? Should be a bunch of different bagels,” he tells me. He speaks perfect English, but there’s a slight accent to his voice that tells me he’s not from around here. I nod my head lightly and turn to look through the takeout orders.

Quickly, I’m able to find the large bag of bagels and hand it to him. “Also, I have a catering request set for today. Do I need to come pick that up, or...?” He trails off. I shake my head lightly.

“Oh, no, no. We’ll bring the catering to your event, but thank you for asking,” I smile. I carefully hand him the bag of bagels and make sure that he has a good hold on it before letting go. The man pays for the bagels and turns around, walking out onto the street silently. I watch him as he walks out, tilting my head to see him as he walks away. Eli comes turns to me and raises an eyebrow.

“Well, that was odd. It’s barely 8 in the morning and he was wearing sunglasses,” he points out.

“Yeah...that was a bit strange, but whatever. We need to work,” I say.

No customers are at my counter, so I begin filling the display case again. Eli has an odd way of forgetting to refill the display case at the end of the day. If I don’t do it, soon enough we won’t have a display of any of the baked goods or products that we have. When he sees me filling the case, Eli shoots me an apologetic smile and I just shake my head, laughing lightly.

For the most part, the morning is fairly normal. We get our regular customers coming in before work and even talk to some of them. I walk around the shop to clean off tables once customers leave. Eli and I have short conversations between customers, talking about random little things. Around 9:30, a few of the other workers come in. Eli pulls Garrett over and talks to him. “Okay, Garrett, you’re in charge for now. Y/N and I need to take some of the other workers and deliver to this catering gig, okay?” He says. Garrett nods his head and Eli shoots him a bright smile.

Soon after, Eli and I have gathered a small collection of the other workers, including some from the kitchen. Catering is always a big job, especially for our little bakery, and this was a *very* big catering job. As we all get into the delivery trucks, Eli explains that it’s for some sort of concert. A really popular group that’s been all around the world and have a stop here on their tour. However, it doesn’t fully settle in what he means until we pull up to the stadium where they’re playing. My jaw drops as I look around at everything. Although I’ve been to this stadium before for concerts, seeing it empty makes it seem so much bigger. Seats are scattered everywhere and rise up in a semi-circle around the center stage, which is also a lot bigger than I expected. All of it seems so ginormous.

As I look at the size of the stadium, Eli steps away. I see him walk up to a fidgety man holding a large list of some sort. He strikes up a short conversation with the man and, after a couple moments, the man gives him directions and points towards the large curtains hiding the backstage. Eli raises his hand in thanks and walks back over, leading me towards the catering trucks with a hand on my back. “So, what was that about?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Just asking where we should the baskets and plates. He said he wants them scattered around for the members of the group and the stagehands and such. Also said we should probably put a good amount of food in the dressing room,” he tells me. I nod my head, then a question pops into my mind.

“Hey, El? Who is this for? The stadium is so huge and I’m not even sure who we’re catering for,” I chuckle. He shoots me a kind smile.

“Like I said, they’re a pretty big group. B...B...B-something. I can’t quite remember. They’re a k-pop group,” he says. I nod my head lightly and we finally arrive back at the catering truck.

Without much talking between us, Eli and I begin to unpack the tables first. Obviously, we need the tables to be set up before we can start putting the food on them. The tables are foldable ones that you might use for a picnic, so Eli and I carry them back one by one. When we’re about to start setting them up, the man I saw Eli with comes backstage again. Eli explains that it’s the group’s manager. The manager directs us to set up the tables against a far wall that has minimal decorations. Eli and I start to set up the tables, making sure that they’re sturdy enough to hold all the food that will be placed on top.

After the tables, the tablesclothd are easy to put on. Just throw them over the tables and make sure that they hang nicely and you’re set. Finally, we start bringing in the food. From what I can see as we unpack the truck, it looks like these people ordered about everything that our shop makes, and several plates of each. There’s sandwiches and breads, bagels and rolls. There’s salads and fruit bowls, and even some of the sweets and confections that we’re known for. Slowly, we take back the plates one by one and set them on the tables.

After I’ve taken back about five plates and bowls of randomly assorted foods, Eli stops me from getting more. “Okay, Y/N, I want you to take these next foods back to the dressing room. Fair warning, you’re going to be taking back a lot of food. The manager said most of the food should be in the dressing room at the back of the stadium. There should be a sign on the door,” he tells me. Eli unpacks one of the large, catering carts and starts packing plates and bowls on top of it. When the cart can’t hold any more food and I’m worried I might not be able to push it, he stops and looks at me again. “You’ll still have to come back for more,” he says, biting his lip and looking at everything. I just wave him off lightly.

“I’ve got it, El. I can do this,” I reassure him.

Calmly, I ask directions to the dressing room and Eli points me in the right direction. Slowly as to make sure that nothing falls off of the cart, I make my way back to the dressing room. As I get further into the stadium, I see less and less people bustling around. I make my way down a corridor with posters of the groups that have played here hung up on the wall. At the very end of this hallway, a large door is closed and I can already hear talking behind it. On the door, a big sign reads “BTS”. Hmm...so, that’s their name.

Shrugging to myself, I twist the doorknob and open up the door. Inside, the room is even bigger than it looks from the outside. It’s absolutely *huge* and it’s a good thing that it is. The room is filled with racks of clothes, stacks of shoes, makeup chairs and vanity tables, and several other assortments of objects. Two couches are pressed against the wall and several people are seated atop them. All of the people in the room are guys, all apparently waiting for someone or something. “Can we help you?” Someone asks. I look up and instantly feel slightly more comforted for whatever reason. Standing up from the couch is the man from this morning, although he’s ditched his baseball cap and sunglasses.

For a few seconds, I just stare at him. “Uh, sorry, sorry. Catering?” I say, smiling nervously and gesturing to the cart. The man lets out a slight chuckle and nods his head.

“Um, yeah...I can see that,” he laughs. Looking around the room, I internally groan. There’s no tables set up back here. I shake my head at Eli’s forgetfulness and curse myself for not asking. “Is something wrong?” The man questions. I shake my head at him.

“Oh, no, just was a little dumb. I forgot to bring back some tables for the food and stuff, so...I’ll be back,” I say slowly.

Without hesitation, I turn back around and make my way back to the catering truck. Eli is still unpacking foods and he gives me a confused look when I come back with all the food still on the cart. “Eli...did you seriously forget to tell me that you hadn’t taken back tables yet?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Dang it, knew there was something I forgot,” he groans, snapping his fingers in annoyance. He starts pulling tables out of the truck again and I get another cart for the tables. When the cart is full, i put some tablecloths on top and push it back to the dressing room again.

This time, the walk to the dressing room doesn’t seem as long. I’m at the room again in no time and open the door, pushing the cart inside. All the boys are still gathered inside, but now there are a couple women, as well. Two of the men are seated in chairs and the women are applying makeup to their faces. I pay little attention to much else and start taking the tables off the cart. “Do you need some help?” Someone asks. I gasp loudly and throw my hands up, covering my face. Immediately after, I drop them and grab my heart.

“Oh, Lord, you just scared me half to death,” I laugh breathlessly, clutching at my chest. This new man is also fairly tall. Even with his t-shirt on, I can see bulging muscles all along his arms. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but look up into his sweet, brown eyes again.

“Do you need some help?” He asks again, nodding towards the tables. I look at them then back up at him.

“I mean...it wouldn’t hurt, but aren’t you busy?” I ask in confusion. He shrugs off the question and takes some of the tables off of the cart.

“Hobi, Tae, some help?” The man asks.

Getting up from the couch, the two new men grumble softly. “You ask if she needs help and then expect us to help you, typical,” the one man, Tae, grumbles. The first man rolls his eyes lightly at them, but they all start helping me with the tables. I set up some of the tables and the help from the three men is very nice. Setting up all these tables by myself would have been interesting. When all the tables are set up, I set out the tablecloths and nod my head. “Okay, I will be back with the food cart in a second,” I tell them. The first man nods his head lightly and I shoot him a soft smile, leaving the room again.

Back and forth, I travel with the carts of food and confections. As soon as I entered the dressing room with the plates of sandwiches and fruit bowls, all the men got up and started grabbing food. I laugh lightly and make sure to remind myself to grab another few plates of sandwiches and maybe another bowl of fruit. I between my travels, I have small conversations with the group of men. They all seem rather nice and ask me random questions as I work, putting the food on the tables. I ask them a few questions in return. A little awkwardly, I do admit that I’ve never heard of them before, but they simply laugh off my awkwardness and say that it’s alright. “If you want to hear our music, all you have to do is look us up on YouTube,” Jimin, a man with light brown hair, tells me. I nod my head lightly at him.

“Alright. I need to go grab some more plates of food because, wow, you’ve already eaten most of the sandwiches and fruit, but I’ll be back. Why don’t you pick something for me to hear when I’m back?” I suggest. Jimin’s face lights up with an adorable smile.

“What do you wanna hear? We have a lot of music,” he says.

Leaning against the cart lightly, I look back at him. “Tell me some of the names,” I say.

“Well, there’s Life Goes On, Dynamite, Mikrokosmos, Boy With Luv,” he starts, listing off random names of different songs. Finally, I just decide on a random song that he mentioned.

“Why don’t you play...Idol? That sounds interesting,” I say. He nods his head once and immediately grabs his phone off the couch. I leave the room again and go back to the truck for more sandwich plates and fruit. Eli’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline when he sees me come back.

“More food?!” He asks in shock. I nod my head, giving him wide eyes.

“There’s seven of them, and they’ve eaten through most of the sandwiches and fruit,” I tell him. He immediately heads into the truck and gets me more plates and bowls. I put the plates and bowls onto the cart and take them back to the dressing room yet again.

When I arrive, I push open the door again and start putting the plates and bowls on the tables. Jimin jumps off the couch and trots over happily, holding his phone out to me. He taps on the video and it begins with the sounds of little bubbles. I giggle lightly at it and how adorable it seems. Jimin chuckles at my little giggle and leads me over to the couch. I sit on the floor in front of the couch and feel several of the members gather around me to watch.

To be honest, the video is very interesting. There’s lots of color and lots of things going on in the video. The music is a very upbeat and interesting song and I actually really like it. However, about a minute and a half through the song, my mouth goes completely dry. On the screen, the member Tae is playing around and singing and just having fun. However, it’s the color of his hair that made my mouth go dry. His hair is *half blonde, half pink*. Immediately I stop the video and stare up at them. “When was this? When did this video come out?” I ask, my voice shaking as my heart rate skyrockets. All of the members give me very confused looks, looking around at each other.

“Um...2018? Yeah, the later months of 2018,” Jimin nods, looking around at everyone else for confirmation. I stare down at the paused video, then up at them again.

“Has...has it seriously been that long?” I ask, my voice quiet in shock. They all give me slightly nervous looks.

“Been that long since...what?” Hobi asks.

“Who...who had the pink and blonde hair? Who is this?” I ask, pointing at the man on the paused screen, just to be sure that I’m right.

Slowly, Tae raises his hand, nervousness written all over his face. I look up at him in shock, almost too amazed to believe it. “I...wow...you’re...you’re my soulmate!” I say in amazement. Immediately, his eyebrows knit in confusion and they all look at me like I’m crazy. “No, no, I can prove it! Look, my hair! I have a hair color soulmate attachment,” I say, picking up the stripe of mismatch hair. All their eyes land on the stripe and they look between Tae and I in shock.

“And...you’re sure I’m your soulmate?” He asks, his voice soft and just as amazed as mine.

“I...how many people have blonde and pink hair at the same time?! But, my stripe of hair changes all the time. I started changing around 2013, maybe 2014 and every few months it changes colors,” I explain.

“What kind of colors has it been?” Namjoon, the man from the bakery this morning, asks calmly.

“Well...all sorts! It’s been purple, it’s been orange, it’s been this like minty green, it’s been blood red. Over a year ago, early April of 2019 I guess, I woke up and it was this bright blue!” I say, listing off just a few colors that it’s been. They all burst into laughter, watching as Tae’s face goes red and he joins their laughter.

“So, you don’t really dye your hair, do you?” He asks, moving aside his hair and letting a stripe of Y/H/C hair stick out a little further than the rest. I giggle lightly, smiling up at him widely.

“Well, honestly, I don’t have to! You dye your hair enough for both of us!” More fits of laughter follow this.

Then, a thought hits me and I lean back against the couch, laughing loudly. “Oh, my God, I’m so happy. I feel so...relieved,” I giggle.

“Relieved?” Tae laughs, his eyes lighting up with that bright smile.

“Yes, relieved! With how much you dye your hair, I was worried your hair was gonna be, like, completely dead! And, honestly, please rest up on the hair dying. You have no idea how many people have commented on it at my work,” I giggle. He throws his hand up in defense, laughing loudly.

“It’s not my fault, I swear! I have to do it for work and stuff,” he laughs. I shake my head at him, finally letting my laughter die down.

“Well, tell them to stop then! This thing has been a pain in the ass ever since you started dying your hair!” I say, pointing at the stripe again. Tae shakes his head at me, a large smile covering his face.

Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door. Namjoon walks over and opens it up, peering out. I hear some talking, then Namjoon pops his head back into the room. “Uh, Y/N? Someone’s here for you,” he says, looking back at me. He opens the door a little more and Eli sticks his head inside.

“Y/N, have you been here the whole time? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He exclaims. I blush lightly, still unable to wipe the smile from my face.

“Sorry, sir. They’ve been having a little moment,” Jimin chuckles, looking between Tae and I. Eli knits his eyebrows together and I smile over at Tae, then look back at my boss.

“So, uh, Eli...meet my soulmate,” I giggle, gesturing towards Tae.

Jokingly, Tae strikes a silly pose and Eli just stares at him in shock, then looks back at me. “Oh, you’re kidding,” he laughs, a smile stretching across his face. I shake my head, smiling back at him.

“Nope, this is my soulmate!” I giggle excitedly. Eli smiles at him and walks up to Tae, shaking his hand happily.

“You’re a very lucky man,” Eli chuckles. Tae smiles brightly, looking at me again.

“I bet I am,” he says. I feel another blush stretching across my cheeks and hide my face in my hands, giggling.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I need to take her back to work,” Eli explains. Tae’s smile drops and he pouts adorably at Eli.

“Already?” He asks, sadness creeping into his voice. Eli nods his head softly.

“Afraid so. We still have to get back to the bakery and work a little before locking up.” Tae hangs his head, but then gets up from the couch and smiles again.

“I’ll walk you out,” he suggests.

Calmly, I stand up from the floor and say goodbye to all of the boys. “Well, it’s not *really* goodbye. You’ll be seeing us a lot more,” Hobi points out, smiling cheekily. I nod my head lightly.

“That I will,” I giggle. I hug all of the boys goodbye, then we finally leave the dressing room and make our way back to the catering truck. As we walk down the hall, Tae calmly slips his hand into mine and intertwines our fingers. I giggle again, leaning into his side happily. Eli just shakes his head at us, but he’s unable to wipe the smile from his face.

When we get to the catering truck, Tae lets go of my hand and pulls out his phone. I pull out mine, as well, knowing exactly what he’s doing. Quickly, we exchange numbers, then I slip my phone back into my pocket. “So...are you doing anything tonight?” He asks, looking down at me. I shake my head lightly at him. To be honest, my ‘plans’ had been to sit inside at my house and watch a movie or two, maybe binge a show with my family. A huge smile lights up his face. “Well, why don’t you come back for the concert tonight? I can get you backstage afterward and we can hang out and talk,” he suggests.

“You...You can do that so last minute?” I ask in surprise. He just shrugs his shoulders lightly.

“I’m pretty sure I can. I mean, you’re my soulmate, there has to be an exception,” he explains. I nod my head at him happily. I feel like my heart is absolutely soaring and yet it’s still beating wildly inside my chest.

“I’d really like that, Tae. I’ll be there,” I tell him.

“Awesome! Can’t wait to see you tonight,” he smiles. He reaches out and squeezes my hand once more before I get into the catering truck again.

Eli drives out of the stadium parking lot and back towards the bakery. At a red light, he looks towards me. “So...fun day, huh?” He chuckles. I nod my head happily, my hands folded in my lap.

“Uh, yeah...you could call it that,” I giggle, tucking the stripe of dark hair behind my ear.

“But...if I recall correctly, I thought you always said you would murder him once you found your soulmate,” he jokes. I blush again, hiding my face and laughing loudly.

“Don’t hold me to my word, Eli. He’s too cute to kill. I couldn’t do it,” I giggle. The rest of the ride back to the bakery is filled with bits of conversation and laughter. Eli makes me relay the whole story to how I found out.

Finally, we make it back to the bakery. We park the truck out back and head inside to finish with customers and then lock up. For the last hour or so of work, my mind is so full that I can’t think of anything but Tae. My whole body feels like it’s floating and I can barely even process what’s going on around me. I’m just so...happy! Whenever any of my co-workers try to talk to me, I can’t focus on what they’re asking me. Eventually, Eli has to jump in and explain that I’m a little out of it and he asks them what’s up. I’m still working with customers as much as I can, but it’s almost like my body is on autopilot and doing everything on it’s own. All I can think is ‘Tae. Tae. Tae. Tae.’ and about the concert tonight.

As we close up the shop, I quickly send a message to my mom and tell her about the concert tonight. I don’t need to wait long for a message back from her.

From Mom❤️🥰: That’s great, sweetheart! And of course you can go! But, as soon as you get back from the concert, I want to hear all about it. And you had better get a picture with that man!

To Mom❤️🥰: You know I will, mom😊 Love you and thanks!

I slip my phone into my back pocket again and finish cleaning off the tables around the bakery. When I’m done, I throw the cleaning rag into our collection of rags that need to be washed and find Eli again. “Okay, I’m gonna head out, El,” I tell him. He nods his head and looks over at me.

“I expect to hear all about how the concert and everything goes,” he says, pointing a finger at me. I salute him jokingly and head into the back to grab my bag off the hook.

I head out the back door and get into my car, driving home. As I drive, I try to clear my mind of Tae and think as clearly as possible. I really don’t need to end up in the hospital on the day that I *finally* met my soulmate. Although the drive home has always seemed really short, it feels like it takes forever today. It’s hard to keep my mind focused on driving and I keep finding myself slipping back into thinking of Tae and what he looks like.

After what feels like an *eternity*, I finally get home and climb out of my car. It seems that the rest of my family is already home, so I call out that I’m back. However, I don’t wait for a response and immediately run up to my room and start looking through my closet. Of course, when I finally meet my soulmate, he sees me in my gross work apron, plain t-shirt, and work pants. I want to make a good impression on him and the first thing he sees me in is my goddamn *work clothes* Ugh. I shift through my closet, looking for anything that could make a really cute outfit for the concert. I want him to see my true style, so I decide on something that’s fairly simple. The outfit consists of a black and white striped t-shirt, ripped black jeans, plain white shoes, and a faded jean jacket. I pull the outfit on and look in the mirror, nodding happily at my reflection. My hair is a little messy, but there’s not much I can do about that. My hair is *always* messy.

Suddenly, I hear a soft buzz from my work pants. I grab my phone out of my pocket and a smile stretches across my face.

From Tae😊: The concert starts around 8. You should probably be here around 6:30 or 7.

To Tae😊: Okay, thanks for telling me! Can’t wait to see you again!

Quickly, I check the time and sigh in relief. It’s only 5:30, so I walk downstairs and search around the kitchen for some food for dinner. I haven’t eaten since this morning and I’m absolutely starving.

As I search for food, I hear someone come up behind me. “So...what’s he like?” My mom asks, her voice full of giddiness. I spin around and smile widely at her.

“He’s absolutely amazing! He’s so sweet and adorable and cute and I literally had such a nice time, yet I barely even spoke to him until right before I had to leave,” I laugh.

“Well, do you have a picture?!” She squeals. I shake my head lightly, then correct myself.

“I don’t have one of us together, but he’s a part of the group that we were catering for today, so I could definitely find a photo of him online,” I say.

Quickly, I whip out my phone and go to the search engine, searching up ‘Tae BTS’. My phone immediately floods with results and I go to the pictures, picking one that looks really good. I pick this picture

And turn my phone to my mom to show her. For a few seconds, she just looks at the picture, then she looks up at me in shock. “Oh, my gosh...” she says, her jaw hanging open.

“I know, right?! Isn’t he absolutely precious?!” I say excitedly, taking my phone back and putting it in my pocket. Mom pulls me into a big hug and squeals again.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart! This is amazing!” She says excitedly.

For the next hour or so, Mom and I talk excitedly about Tae. Since I have a bit of time, I tell her the story while I eat a small cup of mac and cheese. Yes, I know, not the greatest dinner, but it works, okay? She makes me tell her everything that happened and how exactly I knew he was my soulmate. I show her the music video of Idol and stop at the exact place that I had that day. She starts laughing as soon as she realizes what made me realize he was my soulmate. “Oh, my gosh, the pink and blonde hair,” she laughs. I smile, laughing along with her.

“Who knew that that hair color would be so helpful to me?” I giggle.

After a while, I check the time and nearly jump out of my seat. “Oh, I should be going! Tae said I should be there around 6:30,” I say. My mom hurried me out of the kitchen as I start grabbing my phone, keys, and license again. I shove the things into my bag from earlier and kiss Mom’s cheek lightly before I head out the door. On the drive to the stadium, my hands are shaking in excitement. It’s significantly harder to clear my mind again, but I’m able to make it to the stadium without a problem.

When I drive up, I’m not surprised to see the stadium entrances overflowing with fans. The atmosphere is so exciting and happy, and there’s chattering coming from every direction. As soon as I’m out of the car, I grab my bag and text Tae.

To Tae😊: What should I do? I’m here.

The response comes seconds later.

From Tae😊: I’ll send someone out to get you. Stand by the ticket checker and a security guard will come get and bring you to your seat.

Calmly, I read the message and walk towards the ticket checker’s booth. Just as I get to the booth, I see a large man dressed in all black come up to the booth, as well. He looks around for a few seconds before he spots me and gestures me forward. I come up to the booth and the guard shows the vendor my ticket. The vendor checks it and nods his head lightly, then the security guard ushers me forward. I’m shown into the stadium and taken through the crowds of people buying merchandise. I feel a bit upset that I can’t buy any myself, but then I’m reminded of why I’m here and my spirits soar again.

The guard leads me through the crowds of people and into the stadium seating. Slowly, we weave our way through the seats until we’re right at the edge of the stage. I have to crane my neck up to see the stage a bit, but I couldn’t care less. I thank the guard happily and sit down in the seat that the guard showed me. He nods his head once and walks backstage again. For a while, I just sit in my seat and wait as everyone slowly starts filing into their seats, as well. I feel my phone buzz and pick it up. It’s a message from Tae.

From Tae😊: Look at the left curtain😁

I lean to the side a bit so I can see the left curtain and smile widely when I see him poking his head out. He smiles widely at me and waves, and I return the gesture. However, as more people begin filling in the seats around me, I wave him off and he pops his head out of view again.

About half an hour later, everyone has filled their seats and we’re waiting for the concert to begin. To be honest...this has got to be one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. There’s so much going on and everyone is having so much fun. True, I get some judgmental side glances from the people in the seats around me, mostly because I obviously don’t have money like they do, but I don’t care. The music is great, the energy is high, and everything is amazing. My spirit soars again when Tae comes on stage and immediately makes eye contact with me. He shoots me a bright, energetic smile and, throughout the concert, he points me out to the other members. I get little smiles and waves from each of them throughout the concert, though it’s obvious that they’re trying not to bring too much attention to me. I also can’t help giggling to myself when the other members have to keep telling Tae to focus on the concert and not on me.

When the concert finally comes to an end and everyone starts packing up their merchandise and things, I stay in my seat. Again, I get some judgmental looks from the people around me and they roll their eyes, scoffing. However, no one mentions my odd behavior and just lets me go. Soon enough, I’m the only person left in the area. A few moments later, the same security guard who brought me here comes out from backstage again and leads me backstage with him. I’m lead backstage and we weave between workers bustling around and cleaning up the stage. He walks me up to the dressing room and opens the door, gesturing me inside.

Calmly, I thank him and send him a soft smile before entering. As soon as I enter the room, I’m tackled by something that is very large and sweaty. I’m nearly knocked right off my feet and I scrunch up my nose at the offensive smell. I don’t even have to think about who this could be. “Taaaae,” I whine, pushing him off, “go take a shower. You smell gross.” He scoffs at me, leaning back and giving me a mocking offended look.

“I want to shower you in love and attention, and you tell me to go shower. Rude,” he pouts.

“You literally just did an almost two hour show. You were dancing and singing under very bright lights. You are sweaty and you smell disgusting. Go shower!” I giggle, pouting toward what I assume is the bathroom door. He sticks out his tongue at me childishly and I repeat the gesture. Finally, he just sighs and turns around, walking towards the bathroom.

“But, as soon as I get out, we’re talking and cuddling, got it?” He says, pointing a finger at me.

“Got it. Cuddles and talking,” I repeat.

Tae heads into the bathroom and a few moments later, I hear a shower turn on. There’s a soft sigh from across the room. “Great...now we have two of Tae to deal with,” one member, Yoongi, sighs defeatedly. The other members chuckle lightly. I flash him a sweet smile and he just rolls his eyes. “I can’t say ‘no’ to him, and if it that says anything, I probably won’t be able to say ‘no’ to you, either,” he frowns.

“Oh, give up the fake annoyance, grandpa. You know you already love her,” Jimin jokes, pushing Yoongi’s shoulder lightly.

“Just because she’s just as adorable as him doesn’t mean I already love her,” he stares, crossing his arms. Jimin gives him a skeptical look and Yoongi sighs lightly.

“Fine, yes, okay. She’s just as adorable as him, and I probably already adore her. Let me hate that I can’t say ‘no’ to them for five minutes.”

“...if it’s any help, you’re pretty adorable, too,” I say, smiling cheekily at him. He narrows his eyes at me, huffing.

Calmly, I sit down on the couch and strike up a conversation with the other members. It’s only about 15 minutes later or so that Tae comes out of the shower. He has just a towel wrapped around his hips and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. GodDAMN am I lucky. His muscles are sculpted to perfection and my jaw nearly falls to the ground. My soulmate is a fucking Greek god, holy shit. The whole room fills with fits of laughter and I hide my face in my hands as it starts heating up again. Peeking through my fingers, I watch as Tae pulls on some clothes from a bag against the wall. The clothes are a simple, plain white t-shirt and some plaid pajama pants. Like, that’s a normal outfit, but also...good God, my soulmate is too hot. The t-shirt clings to his arms deliciously and the pajama pants stretch over his thick thighs. My mind almost short circuits as I look at him.

Thankfully, my mind is pulled away from those thoughts as that same heavy weight lays on top of me again. I laugh loudly, trying to shift underneath himself and yet still unable to breath. “Tae, I literally can’t breathe,” I laugh. He shifts his body more into the couch instead of me and I sigh, wrapping my arm over his shoulder. His wet hair is laid against the top of my breast bone, but I couldn’t care less. I lightly scratch my nails up and down his back. On the other end of the couch, someone makes a gagging noise and Tae just kicks his long legs in the direction of the noise. A loud “ouch!” follows the action and I giggle lightly, resting my chin on his head and closing my eyes. And that is how I spend the first night with my soulmate. About half an hour later, we’re woken up to head to the hotel they’re staying at, but I send a message to my mom and tell her that I’m staying the night with Tae. I do make it clear that nothing will happen, though, just cuddles and sleeping. Thankfully, she allows me to stay and that is where I stay the night...wrapped in my soulmate’s arms.

[whump-town]

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Four: How to Disappear Completely

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word count:  2,670 (not very long but I’m getting back into the swing)

Author’s Note: I know it’s been like freaking two months but this felt nice and I remembered how much I actually enjoy this fic. You can find the first chapter here!

Warning: the subject of this fic is cancer and it’s treatment, cursing, maybe out of character (idk, man. hotch is weird) bonus: I’m 19 and a humanities major so obviously I don’t know anything about medicine so I’m doing my best out here

I'm not here I'm not here This isn't happening I'm not here I'm not here

She’s not allowed to go with him to treatments-- radiation treatments, he never said anything about chemo. You’d think she was the ex-lawyer but really she’s just mastered the art of annoying him. “That’s a straight flush, eat it!” She lays the cards out for him to see, grinning as his face falls and he realizes that he’s lost to her, again. “We totally should have played strip-poker.”

He rubs a hand over his face, digging his fingers into his eye socket. “That’s the last thing I need,” he mumbles, leaning back against his chair. He’s exhausted and freezing his ass off despite the long-sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing under his flannel and the blanket Emily’s tucked around him. There’s no point in bringing it up, no point in talking about it. No one can do anything about it. He’s just cold and he can handle the clump of hair that fell in the sink this morning and the fact that all foods, even foods that he’s considered safe for decades, betray his body. This being cold all the time thing though? It’s pissing him off and it makes him feel even more helpless because he can’t control his emotions.

Nevermind, most of his control over everything is gone. He’s stuck in this chair until the toxic whatever they have hanging above his head enters his body. The whole bag and a two-hour, maybe longer, wait. For comfort, he’s got an endless supply of blankets, all as thick as paper, and a popsicle. He likes popsicles but he’s certain he’ll throw up anything he eats right now. So he sticks to lightly sipping his water. At least he gets to control the water most of the time. Occasionally they even get to veto his decisions there.

“I’ll give you a break,” she offers. She can see he’s having a hard time. He knows he’s lucky to have her as his shadow but that doesn’t do much for the temper he’s struggling to control. “I’m going to go call JJ,” she knocks her hand against his knee and he hums his understanding. He’s moved his body up, sitting up enough to tilt to the left, his head in his palm, and his fingers moved to block her view of a pained grimace. Trying and failing to keep her distracted with his silence.

Knowing that crouching down beside him would create far more attention to his discomfort that is such grave importance to him to hide, she just lowers her voice and quietly asks, “do you want me to get some more water?” He shakes his head, just rocking his forehead into his palm. His attention lost to a sea of pain. “Okay,” she mumbles, feeling utterly helpless. A feeling she’s becoming quite familiar with.  

The worst part is knowing there’s nothing she can do physically for him but there are some people that never fail to draw a smile to his face. So she texts Spencer and Penelope, hoping Reid will numb Hotch out with never-ending conversation and Garcia will lighten his sludge. She hesitates to ask Jessica to bring Jack over. After the night they watched the Chronicles of Narnia he’s been a little outwardly disruptive. Acting out and it’s to be expected, this isn’t easy for anyone and it’s impossible for a child who has already lost his mother. But it will be good for Hotch and Jack so she risks it and Jessica seems to agree.

“You’re back early.” What she does not account for is Derek Morgan beating them back. They walk in and hear a racket, and though their training should have them reaching for guns not strapped to their hips, they both just glare at the direction in which it’s coming from. Derek stands up, eyeing them both over, and motioning to something out of their sight. “Was just fixing the sink.” He’s covered in dirt and sweat, it’s evident he was fixing something though the state of his shirt looks more like he breaking something.

Emily is opening her mouth to inquire but Hotch beats her to it. His tone and his mood are not in a good place and if she’d known Morgan was here ahead of time she would have warned him. Morgan has no warning when Hotch’s already firmly placed scowl turns even crueler and he grumbles, “the sink wasn’t broken.”

She’s stuck standing between them, Hotch walking away and Morgan watching his back and looking hopelessly at her to explain what just happened. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to follow Hotch or if she’s better here explaining his behavior. It’s just like old times, she thinks bitterly. To Foyet and his pain and she can’t say she’s surprised, he really held out. She can’t blame him for being in a bad mood, he’s in pain. It’s his cancer, he’s allowed to be pissed about it.

“He okay?”

She is surprised to find that Morgan isn’t angry. That he looks nearly sad standing there, torn between going after him and being reassured by her. “He’s…” she won’t tell him about the drive back. Hotch silent but in so much pain he’d been restless, incapable of sitting still in the car. Or this morning how he’d needed her help just putting on a shirt. The hair she’s noticed falling out but he’s not commenting on it so she certainly won’t breathe a word. That they’re up all night, the sound of Hotch’s pacing making her too worried to rest or barreling through the house to find him curled around the toilet looking miserable. That he’s losing weight rapidly and she doesn’t struggle to help him up anymore-- but she tells herself it’s because she’s getting stronger because she has to.

“He’s Hotch,” she reasons, foolishly. “Of course, he’s okay.”

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

Garcia would lay her own life down in a heartbeat to protect the team if they’d let her. She owes them all so much for the quality that they have given her life over the past few years. They have built a family around her, from the ground up, and accepted her through all her flaws and misadventures. No one as much as her suit-clad, knight in shining armor boss. Hotch has been there for her since before there was even really a team. When no one else would, he gave her so much more than a chance-- he believed in her. When no one else, when no one had even tried since her parent’s death. Even when time and time again she made mistakes, pushed rules, and on his last nerve. He never tore her down.

He commends her strangeness, even if she suspects he doesn’t fully understand it. Smiles good-naturedly when she brings him holiday-themed ties so they can match and allows her silly days out for conventions beyond his own taste. He’s never grasped a full understanding of her but he’s never given up trying. He commends her abilities to do this job and also reminds her how proud he is of her, to have her on his team, and to call her a friend. So, yeah, if Hotch needs a little pick-me-up, she’s his man.

“Are you two fucking?”

Garcia freezes. The key Hotch gave her half-way in its retreat from the lock and the door only slightly opened. She’s technically coming in unannounced but Hotch had given her this key under the same pretenses as the one that gave her access to his and Haley’s house-- in case she needs him. The situations are flipped now, he needs her, but the sentiment is still the same. She’d prepared for the Hotch’s thousand-word frown upon entrance just not the verbal assault of “are you two fucking”.

She hesitantly makes her way into the room, peeking around the corner of the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Emily and Morgan are standing there, both looking equally disgusted and annoyed. She watches Emily fluster, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “What?” she barks out in pure surprise. “He’s-- NO!”

Morgan reciprocates his own franticness, waving at Emily’s clothes, “you’re-- you’re... matching!” He’s grabbing at straws for the most part. His own anxieties and fears coming into play to create this monster of a beast he can’t stop thinking about. To distract himself from the panicked thoughts he has about watching his friend die he’s conjured a reality in which it makes sense that Emily and Hotch would be boning. Really, it’s only bothering him because he has no idea what he would do if the two of them were… doing something. It’s just-- just disgusting. Hotch is Hotch, he doesn’t… do that.

Emily rolls her eyes, “Derek, I see him every day. I live with him.” She makes an exasperated throwing motion with her hands, tossing them upwards. “It’s going to happen occasionally, alright? We own similar articles of clothing.” She motions down to her clothes, “we’re ‘matching’ because we look a lot alike and he knows green is his color just like I know it’s mine!”

Of course, that’s what she says now but this morning when she was working the tiny ass buttons of his shirt together she’d given him endless shit about managing to pick out the one shirt the two of them both own. He couldn’t change-- that day’s appointments needed full access to his chest and the easiest way to do that is to wear easily opened and shut clothing. She could change but simply refused-- it was far more entertaining to tell him they looked like those preschoolers whose parents dressed them to match.

He wasn’t amused.

“Besides,” she adds just to a rise out of him, “he’s not supposed to be doing anything strenuous until the rash on his chest clears back up.” She tucks a strand behind her ear, nonchalant. “Even then I would have to be on top.” She smiles as he sputters, satisfied with her own work.

Morgan frowns, “No!” He momentarily covers his ears, shaking his head. “Why do you even-- How do you know that?”

Emily shrugs, “Oh… well, his doctor thought we were… you know.”

Garcia isn’t sure where her allegiance should be. If Hotch and Emily are… she’d prefer not to know the details. Well, she’s interested because it’s Emily but it’s also Hotch. She makes a face, the thought… it-- Hotch needs to lighten up. He needs someone back in his life that can bring some fun but Emily is, well she’s Emily! It f-

“Is she done tormenting Morgan, yet?”

Garcia reels around, caught off guard by a sudden deep but unimpressed voice behind her. When she turns, she finds Hotch. He’s dressed down, out of the attire Morgan and Emily had been talking about. Now, in a simple Hanes t-shirt and black sweatpants. Comfortable-- she likes the way he looks. It may not be his usual attire but it makes him look more… dad-like. More himself.

Garcia looks back over her shoulder and finds herself grinning. Her boss may seem like a boring, hardass but he can have his fun too. No doubt, he either gave Emily the idea to go torment Morgan (never direct but planted the seedling idea) or, at the very least, gave her permission. “I don’t think so,” she answers honestly. “She’s not going to let it go if she knows it bothers him that much.” Which is completely true.

Hotch smiles, softly. A dimple making a guest appearance as he shakes his head. Only Emily Prentiss. He looks Garcia down, lifting a brow at the sight of all the things in her arms. “Can I help you with that?” he offers, motioning to the filled Tupperware clutched to her chest so that they don’t topple over.

She remembers, suddenly, the armful of goodies she has. “Oh yes, sir!” She lets him take a few off the top, telling him what they are as he acquires them. “Those are macadamia nut cookies! This really nice woman--” she follows him as he takes the containers and directs her to the kitchen. “She moved in across the hall from me. She loves to bake and so she’s been giving me all these little recipes.”

He moves right past Emily and Derek, smiling to himself at the panicked raise in Derek’s tone as they catch sight of one another. He directs his attention back to Garcia, making sure she knows he’s listening. Though he doubts his own abilities to dig into the delicacies Garcia has brought, he knows that Jack and Emily will rip them to shreds. Which is the honorable way Garcia’s cooking should go, straight into very gracious mouths.

“I really hadn’t been able to test them out,” she continues. “So, I thought why not try them all right now and bring them to you!” She smiles cheerfully up at him, their height difference more apparent when he looks down realizes she’s not wearing her signature heels. She’s wearing pink converse, perfectly complimenting her pink sweater and pink glasses and jewelry. He thinks she looks positively amazing but knows any compliments will have him smothered in kisses and, well, he’s already been accused of sleeping with one coworker...

Mind still wandering off on the subject of his height and when the last time he saw Garcia in shoes other than heels, he settles a soft smile on her. She keeps talking, showing him each container's contents. It’s the exhaustion that leads him down the path beaten path of dissociation, his mind simply slipping out from beneath him. Someplace warm and fuzzy where his body doesn’t ache.

“Aaron--” He blinks, startling at the sudden touch to his shoulder. He looks down to find Emily and an anxious-looking Garcia. He’s sure Emily and Derek’s conversation about their relationship is now going to seem more damning as her hand slips into his. She squeezes his fingers, “you okay?” Her eyes flick between his, searching for an answer that’s going to be far more honest than the one he produces on his own.

He clears his throat, forcing himself not to blush. “Yeah,” he croaks. “I don’t… I don’t know what that was.” He bashfully averts his eyes to the kitchen floor, very aware of their attention on him now. Too much attention. It’s impossible to hide the way he shivers, the paling, near purpling of his arms. He knows it’s inevitable that they’ll notice but… he’d like to think himself some mastermind. Impervious to the tests of cancer and his treatments. That they don’t affect him. He can hide the central line under layers of clothes. Wear hats to hide the hair. Fake a smile and force his way through the day.

But he’s failing miserably. They see it. The radiation rash now sitting at the base of his neck, red and angry. Peaking out through his shirts. The bulge of the central line under his normal shirts. The nose bleeds that never stops, he’s scarred Reid and Morgan for life with those. The tinnitus that’s recently come back with a vengeance. He’s affected, good and proper, and he hates it. Hates that he has to be so blatantly mortal in front of everyone. Never gets a say in if today is good or bad. If he’ll be too weak to get out of bed or too sick to eat. He hates it.

Garcia is the first person to properly break the tension. She playfully knocks Hotch in the shoulder, more of a tap than anything. It’s careful and his throat tightens with the realization of how weak he must look to make Garcia afraid she could hurt him with a simple tap.  “It’s all good, sir.” She settles a small smile on him, “but you can make it up to me by eating?”

Eating. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly around the sick twist of his stomach. “Okay,” he answers softly, forcing a smile to match hers when she beams. Thinking she’s won against his unruly stomach. 

Emily glances at him but ignores it. 

He just wants to be normal again. 

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater (Just lmk if you don’t want to be tagged anymore)

[quiteanabyss]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Can you share your most memorable holidays with Kylo, Charlie and Sackler? Thank you

How would Kylo or Charlie handle Christmas in isolation with just you. - Anon

Merry Christmas!  I hope you’re having as lovely a day as is possible in the current circumstances!

Thank you for this Ask.  After some thought, I combined it with another, which I hope is okay for the both of you.

This features HC’s of a socially distanced Christmas with Kylo, some sweet Charlie and Henry, and ... the “Touch” series holiday special.

TW: The second story has a reference to an age gap, and the third contains some smut (because Sackler).

Kylo - A very social(ly distanced) Christmas

This is your third Christmas with Kylo.

Your first was spent with your family.  It had still been early days in your relationship, but in spite of some worries, they had easily welcomed him into the fold.  (Your parents were probably just glad you were finally dating someone.)

Your second was spent with his family, after many months spent encouraging him to reach out and reconcile with them like you knew he wanted to, but would never admit.  You had begged, bargained and blackmailed your boss for the time off over the holidays, and travelled all the way to the States with him to witness a family reunion that was twenty years in the making.  It was worth it.

Your third Christmas is different.  Thanks to the pandemic, travel to the States is out of the question.  Even driving a couple of hours up the road to see your parents is forbidden, thanks to the government’s last-minute decision the weekend before Christmas.  So the two of you are spending Christmas alone together.

But between phone calls and Zoom calls with family and friends, you don’t actually manage to have a minute to yourselves until the evening, once “dinner with the family” (a very strange setup using both of your laptops) is done, and the pans and dishes have been washed or abandoned in the sink to soak until either of you can be bothered to deal with them.

Even though it’s just been the two of you in the apartment all day, the space has been filled with voices and laughter of friends and loved ones almost the entire time.  Only now that the calls are done do you actually have space to appreciate the silence that falls between you as you flop down on the couch next to him, and he throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Thank fuck that’s over,” he grumbles eventually, his deep voice breaking the stillness of the room.  “And to think you were worried today was going to be too quiet.  Jesus, I’m exhausted.”

He enjoyed it, really.  You know this.  He knows you know this.  But he’ll never admit it.  And that’s okay.  You love your grumpy man just as he is.

“Poor baby,” you murmur, causing him to glare at you.  “You’re probably much too tired for one more present.”

"What present?” he asks, in a would-be casual voice.  Trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

Smiling, you toy with the top button on your blouse.  That gets his attention.  “You’ll have to unwrap it to find out,” you say.  “But that’s probably too much for you seeing as you’ve had such a hard day.”

But it turns out he isn’t at all as exhausted as he’d claimed.

And he loves his final present.

Charlie - A family Christmas

Charlie was upfront about it right from the start.  He and Henry were a package deal.  Love me, love my son.

That’s why it took so long for things to really get going between the two of you.  He didn’t want to introduce you to Henry, only to have you fade out of his life a few months later when you inevitably got fed up of the tedious responsibility of, effectively, parenting another woman’s kid.

The age gap didn’t help, either.  You were at a stage in your life where you should be figuring out what you want to do with your life, partying with friends, without a care in the world.  Not settling down with someone who has already quite thoroughly fucked his life up, and has the baggage to prove it.

It took you a good six months to convince him that you understood all his worries and concerns, and you simply didn’t care.  There were heated discussions, tears from both of you, and a breakup that lasted all of a week ... until Charlie finally came to his senses and realized that he could trust you.

So it means a lot that you’re finally here.  Your first Christmas together with Charlie and Henry.

You and Charlie are exhausted.  Henry woke you up at the ungodly hour of half past four to open his presents, and is showing no sign of flagging.  Meanwhile, the two of you are on your third cup of coffee each, and it isn’t even time to have lunch yet.  But Henry is having a great time with his new toys, and Charlie’s arm is warm and reassuring around you as you both stand in the doorway to the living room, looking at the mess of wrapping paper with a mixture of despair and amusement.

Charlie leans in, nuzzles his nose against the side of your face, before kissing your cheek.  “You still sure about this?” he asks, gesturing at the chaos before you both.  “This is what it’s like.”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” you tell him.  There’s more you want to say, but at that moment Henry calls for both of you, demanding you come and help him begin assembling one of his new Lego sets.  

You’ll tell Charlie later, you decide, as you settle down on the floor and pull the instructions out of the box.  You’ll tell him how happy you are.  How lucky you feel to have been invited into their lives.  

He and Henry are a package deal, and you love them both.

Sackler - July in Christmas

“Why the fuck is the apartment so warm?” you demand, when you arrive home after your shift on Christmas Eve.  Some jackass in a ten grand coat told you that you ruined Christmas for his entire family because the product his wife wanted was out of stock, so you might be feeling a little bit Grinchy this evening.

Adam doesn’t have a straight answer for you.  He also insists that you stay out of the living room, so after your shower he makes you eat dinner in the bedroom.  It’s all very suspicious.

“I feel like I’m a prisoner,” you comment, after he accompanies you to the bathroom in case you look in the living room.  “I didn’t do it, officer, I swear!” you call through the door, while you pee.  Then you brush your teeth, remove your contacts, and run through your skincare routine.  If you take much longer than usual, it’s just because you’re being thorough.  Not because you’re trying to annoy him.

You emerge from the bathroom a good fifteen minutes later, to find him still standing there, looking pissed off.  You give him a shit-eating grin.  He grabs you, turns you around, and pushes you against the wall.  “You’re under arrest for taking too long in the bathroom,” he says, his breath hot in your ear as he grinds against you.  “Spread ‘em.”

You sleep very well that night.

Christmas morning dawns.  Outside it’s snowing, but inside your apartment it feels hotter than the summer your family went to Vegas.  You wake up from a very pleasant dream to find that it was not, in fact, a dream.  Adam’s face is buried between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit as his tongue works its way inside you.  You curl your fingers in his hair, and he hums in response, sending a pleasant shockwave of shivers through you, but he only looks up once you’ve cum for the third time.  “I need you to stay in here for, like, one more hour,” he says, by way of a greeting.

“Is that why you woke me up like this?” you ask, covering your face with your hands.  “To ensure my compliance?”

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he says, rolling off the bed, and stretching.  “You’re going to love it.”

“Ugh,” you say.  And then you roll over, and go back to sleep.

When you wake up again, it’s because Adam is basically sitting on top of you.  “It’s ready,” he says.  “You just need to put this on first.”  And he hands you -

“A bikini?” you say, bewildered, when you unroll the bundle he handed you.  “What the - why?”  Then, you notice that he’s wearing what are possibly the ugliest pair of floral swimming shorts you’ve ever seen in your life.  “Seriously Adam, what the fuck is going on?  It’s Christmas Day, it’s blizzarding outside, and you’re handing me swimwear?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s a no-brainer.  “Put it on.”

Grumbling, you crawl out of bed, and get dressed as requested.  It fits, but coverage is minimal, and you guess that’ s probably the point.  He stares at you with a huge grin on his face the entire time, like the massive perv he is.  And as soon as you’re ready, he drags you out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

Outside of the living room, he pauses and turns to you.  “I know we’re not doing gifts this year because we’re trying to save money,” he says.  Which is true.  This apartment is too small for the two of you.  You’ve both mentioned that it would be nice to move somewhere with a second bedroom, although neither of you have yet mentioned why you feel that way.  “And I know we’re both kind of like fuck Christmas.  But you’ve been working so hard these past few months.  And I thought ... you deserve a holiday.  So, I did a thing.”

Without further ado, he opens the door into your living room, and pushes you inside.

Your mouth falls open.  The room has been transformed.  The sofa has been pushed back against the wall and the armchairs and coffee table have completely disappeared.  In their place are a couple of sunloungers with beach towels on them, a little table between them covered in your favourite drinks and snacks, and even a couple of mini palm trees in pots.

But most incredible of all ... there’s a freaking paddling pool, which looks big enough for the both of you to fit in it.

You know he’s looking at you, waiting for your reaction.  But you don’t know what to think, or do, or say.  So you just stand there like a moron, staring at the scene, and opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“Is it ok?” he asks, eventually.  “You aren’t mad that I fucked up our living room, are you?”

All you can do is shake your head.

“Do you like it?”

You nod.  And because you can’t say anything, you throw your arms around his middle.  Hopefully that’s enough of an answer, because it’s all you can manage right now.

How the fuck did you manage to get so lucky?  Adam gets it.  He just gets you.  He’s the first person who’s ever bothered to take the time to try to figure you out, so he’s the first person you’ve ever begun to open up to.  And this right here?  Is the most thoughtful, ridiculous, best gift you’ve ever been given.

Adam wraps his arms around you too, and squeezes you so tightly you can feel your ribs creaking.  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says, and he begins to rock you gently as you start to cry big, fat, happy tears.  “You’re perfect, you know that?  And I really fucking love you.”

You’re not perfect.  Just like he’s not perfect, and this setup isn’t perfect.  (How the hell are you going to get all that water out of the pool when you’re done?)

But this moment is perfect.  

And god.  God.  You really fucking love him, too.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH20 (FIN)

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Angst but also teeth rotting fluff

WC: 4111

A/N: This is the end guys. I hope you had a blast reading it as much as I had fun writing.

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST 

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Y/N wakes up to the sound of her alarm. It takes her way too long to realize where she is. 

She opens her eyes and takes a look around. Her room kind of looks small compared to the room she called her own in Dean’s apartment.

Today is Monday, which means that she’s supposed to go to work and she kind of doesn't want to. She hasn’t heard from Dean. He didn’t text her, nor did he call. Maybe it’s over before it’s over. Maybe today, he’ll say that she can get out if she wants. He and Sam have the evidence and they can build up their case around it. There’s really no need for him to fake it with her anymore.

Yesterday she had to go out and buy clothes because all her stuff is still at Dean’s, and she didn’t want to go there. She spent the rest of the day in her bed, buried in her novels. It would have been relaxing if she hadn’t  thought about Dean so much.

She’s so nervous about meeting him again that she has had an awful night’s sleep. She’s nervous, when it should be easy. He’s her boss. She’s his employee. It should have always stayed like that, she realized. She should have never let them talk her into crossing the line. 

Her anxiety peaks as she takes the subway to the office. She feels nauseous. It doesn’t help knowing that her period is a little late too. She hopes that she’s not pregnant. She’s been taking her pills regularly. It shouldn’t be a problem and honestly, she doesn’t need to add it to her pile of worries. 

Arriving in the office, she sees that Ruby’s already there but it’s awfully quiet. She sits down and starts her computer. 

“Psssst,” Y/N hisses at Ruby who’s engrossed in a paper.

“Oh, hey! How was meeting with the parents?” Ruby grins.

“Sam didn’t tell you anything?” She frowns, wondering why Dean hasn’t updated Sam on what happened. On how she walked out of there and left him behind to hole herself up in her own apartment. 

Ruby shrugs, “No?”

“Ruby, I’m late.” She says, because she wants to get that off her chest first. 

Her friend raises her eyebrows and she sees that Ruby’s eyes travel to the clock, “I’d say your early, Dean’s not even in yet.” 

“No, I’m late!” She hisses, her eyes widen as she tries to get Ruby to understand. 

Ruby’s mouth forms an ‘O’, “Ooooh, shit.”

“Yeah,” She sighs. 

“How many days?”

“Three.”

“That’s nothing, right? Maybe it’s the stress? You’re under a lot of pressure.” 

Y/N knows that Ruby’s just trying to cheer her up, “Yeah, maybe.” She says and types in her password.

“Lets work, alright, we can think about it on our break. I can go get a test for you. Now, I want you to distract yourself with work or else you’ll go mad.”

“Yeah, okay,,” She tries to smile at her friend. The last thing she wants is for Ruby to be worried about her and Ruby’s not wrong. If she throws herself into work, it’ll definitely help distract her mind from all of the things that’s making it hard for her to breathe.

When her computer starts up her email box begins to fill itself. She sees that she has an unusually high amount of emails. Half of them are from Dean. Sent during their fake honeymoon. She wonders why, as they were practically together all the time? 

She opens up the first email.

Saturday, [00:24AM]: I’m sorry that I’ve upset you.

Saturday, [01:12AM]: Do you think I’m crazy when I tell you that I can’t fall asleep without you next to me?

Saturday, [05:21AM]: You’re the cutest crankiest person I ever laid eyes on.

Saturday, [08:31AM]: You fell asleep right after take off. I’ve taken a picture of you. Sorry not sorry. 

Saturday, [09:23AM]: You’re sleeping again. You really do need a lot of sleep, don’t you? Or maybe it’s because you’re too nervous of flying. I’m sorry I didn’t even ask if flying would be okay for you. I never took it into consideration that you might not like flying. The thought had never crossed my mind. I’m trying to help you through it, though.

Saturday, [11:42AM]: You’re cute when you’re all giddy about being here and I’m happy that you let me bring you here. Can’t wait until I can show you our room. I have a feeling that you’ll like it.

Saturday, [01:12PM]: You didn’t need to ask if you can take a dip in the sea but you still did. That’s what I like about you. You don’t take anything for granted. 

Saturday, [02:57PM]: For god’s sake, you fell asleep on the lounger. You’re going to get sunburned!

Saturday, [04:32PM]: You’re still distracting me. But I kind of like it. Maybe I’m a closet masochist.

Saturday, [09:22PM]: You know what I absolutely love? I fucking love how you taste, how you want me to fuck you harder. How wet you are for me. I love how you look when you’re laying on the bed, spit slick and pink all over.

Saturday, [11:46PM]: Jesus, you’re laying there, pink pussy in full view. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.

Tears start to pool in her eyes but there’s more. 

 *

 Sunday, [11:21AM]: It was nice waking up to you beside me. I can get used to it. Would love for it to happen every morning.

Sunday, [03:42PM]: You really love snorkeling, don’t you? Don’t even want to get out of that water. You’ll be sunburned if you’re not careful, baby.

Sunday, [08:23PM]: You fell asleep before room service arrived. I had to take a picture. I don’t think you know how much you affect me.

 *

 Monday, [03:12AM]: I woke up thinking you’re not here, but you are. 

Monday, [09:34AM]: You locked yourself in the bathroom because I woke you up. Definitely the crankiest person ever. Wonder why you think that I’m the grumpy one here.

Monday, [02:22PM]: I’m working inside and you’re distracting me again. Stretching yourself half naked on the lounger. It’s not really fair. 

Monday, [11:43PM]: Would you think I’m crazy when I tell you that I have fallen for you? Because I think I have. More so than I already had.

Yeah, those are definitely tears that streak down her face. She tries not to make it obvious to Ruby but she has her nose buried in the paper, so she should be good.

 *

 Tuesday, [11:43AM]: You woke me up with a smile. I’m the happiest when I get to be inside you. I urged you to send a picture to Ruby. But in reality, I want her and Sam to see it too. Little do you know that I already have many pictures of you in my phone. By the way, I love how you get wetter when I talk dirty to you.

Tuesday, [12:01PM]: I think I might love you. 

Tuesday, [01:59PM]: Gearing up for my conference call but all I can think about is you in the pool.

Tuesday, [03:44PM]: I’m hearing your moans while you get massaged. This is torture.

Tuesday, [05:02PM]: I can’t stop myself from showering you with affection. I hope you don’t mind.

Tuesday, [07:23PM]: Waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. You take your sweet time but I don’t really care about it anyway. I’m sure you look stunning whatever you wear or put on your face. Prettiest thing if I ever did see one. I don’t know how I can make you understand that this is real. This is all me, and all of me wants all of you.

 *

 Wednesday, [02:11AM]: You looked absolutely stunning tonight. I’m sorry that she pulled your brother into this. That was never my intention. I was never going to hurt you or your family and I’m doing my best to help you protect him. And I try my best to protect you, too. You know, you managed to calm me down. I don’t know how you did that, but you did. I remember hearing your faint voice in my rage. And when I turned around, it’s only you that I saw. I told you that you’ll be able to go back to your old life soon. That’s true. I don’t want you to think that you can’t. I’d just prefer if you’d stay, but that’s not on me to decide. 

Wednesday, [03:02AM]: Yeah, it’s definitely love.

Wednesday, [05:34AM]: I’m up because I’m partly nervous about meeting your brother.

Wednesday, [10:27AM]: You looked so peaceful in your sleep. I might have taken another picture. You asked if we can stay in bed a little longer and honestly, all I wanted in that moment was to cancel everyone and stay in bed with you.

Wednesday, [03:11PM]: On my way to go fishing with Jack. He’s a great guy. I like him a lot. He reminds me of you. 

Wednesday, [07:18PM]: We’re back. We talked things through. He’s very protective of you. We both are. He knows how I feel for you. That’s all I want him to know. I want him to work at the company, he’s more than qualified.

Wednesday, [11:18PM]: Currently waiting for you to wash your face and come to bed. I love seeing you happy. It literally makes my day. Some might call it love. I think I do too.

 *

 Thursday, [02:24AM]: Can you tell why I’m always waking up in the middle of the night? Mostly it’s because I have to make sure that you’re still here. I meant it when I said that Jack could live with me. I hope that by that time you’ll still be living with me too. I’d love that, because I love you.

Thursday, [05:52AM]: I don’t know how I should feel about the new development. It means that what we have will be over soon, doesn’t it? What if I don’t want it to be over? Would you be game?

Thursday, [06:31AM]: I’ve made a decision. I want to keep you a little longer. Even if it’s only for two weeks. I know that I told you that you can go back into your old life. It’s because I’m a coward and can’t tell you the truth. If I had my way, I’d keep you forever but you make your own decisions.

Thursday, [10:34AM]: I lied about getting back and building a case. It’s only partly true. I want to take you to my parents, I want them to understand that there’s nothing fake about what we have. I want them to get off my case so I have one less thing to worry about. I’m sorry if that sounds selfish.

She has to pause to blow her nose. Ruby still doesn’t notice that she’s sobbing, because she’s on the phone now.

 *

 Friday, [04:21AM]: You’re still here. Thank god.

Friday, [04:21AM]: I love you.

Friday, [02:11PM]: I watch you splash around with Jack and Ruby. I can get used to seeing your genuine smile more often. I want you to be happy. You deserve everything good in your life.

Friday, [06:44PM]: You’re getting ready in the bathroom. I’m sad we’re going home tomorrow. I want you. I want you so fucking bad. 

 *

 Saturday, [03:03AM]: We’ve made love but I’m up and I want more. I want to stay inside of you. I want to show you how much I love you.

Saturday, [07:10AM]: The alarm has already gone off twice. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. I don’t even care if we’ll be late. It’s good like this. Waking up with you in my arms.

Saturday, [10:32AM]: You’re talking with Jack. I like that. I like to see you happy. Like to see him happy. It literally makes me happy seeing how you two treat each other. Jack knows that I only want the best for you. I hope he doesn’t tell you what we talked about, though. Because we would both have to kill you if one of us does.

 *

 Sunday, [02:01AM]: That backfired, didn’t it? You left and I didn’t hold you back. Not because I don’t want to. It’s because I don’t want you to think that I haven’t given you any options. I don’t want you to think that you’re not allowed to walk away, even when we have a contract. I want you to know that you can get out any time you want. I don’t care about the Amara case anymore. All I care about is for you to be happy. 

Sunday, [04:33AM]: I can’t sleep. You’re not here.

Sunday, [10:28AM]: I don’t want you to think that me not calling you is because I don’t care. I do. But I want to give you the space you need, even if it kills me.

Sunday, [08:47PM]: It’s weird around here without you.

 *

 Monday, [03:49AM]: I’m still awake because I don’t know if I should go into work. You probably don’t want to see me, so I’m taking the day off. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you on Tuesday.

Monday, [03:51AM]: If you see your emails when you get to work, you’ll probably think that I’m crazy. It’s just… I’m not really good at expressing my feelings, and it’s especially hard when it comes to you. I get tongue tied and my heart does somersaults. I know that it’s unlike my work persona but that’s just how I am. That’s why I’m sending you emails, hoping that I can get you to understand how much you actually mean to me.

Monday, [04:00AM]: I wish you were here.

Monday, [04:01AM]: I love you.

 Y/N’s full on wailing and even Ruby notices it now, how can she not?

“Babe, are you okay?” Her friend stands up and walks over to her, sees her screen with all the opened emails and reads some of them, “Oh my god, the boss is such a fucking sap!” They both have to chuckle.

Y/N fishes her phone out of her purse and thumbs over a number, “Tell me what he told you, Jack. I need to know!”

Her brother sighs on the other side, “Fine, but don’t tell him I told you!”

“I won’t,”

“He made sure that I understood his feelings for you. That it was never a fake marriage to him. He was just too nervous to ask you out and when that thing with Amara happened, he saw it as an opportunity to do the right thing. He’s thinking about marrying you for real if you want that in your future. But I told him that he had to get my blessings first — which I gave him by the end of the finishing trip.”

“Jack!”

“I’m sorry. He’s good, Y/N. You know how I’m always overprotective and I was with Dean, too. But his intentions are good. He told me how you met. He knows every little detail. He could even tell me what you wore that day. Dean knows more about you than you think he does. Hell, he knows more about you than I do!”

“Well, then he’s a stalker.” She scoffs.

“Y/N, you wouldn’t know what’s good if it hit you in your face.”

“Did you talk to Ruby?”

Jack laughs, “I don’t have to talk to Ruby to know that about you.”

“Okay, thanks, Jack.”

“Anytime, sis. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She hangs up and stands up from her chair to look at her friend, “Ruby?”

“Yeah, I can manage here. Go get him!”

 *

 Dean’s on the terrace, his hands on the railing. He’s already dressed in trousers and a button up shirt even though he has taken the day off. Old habits apparently die hard.

She slides the door open quietly.

“I was wondering if you’d show up,” He says and he turns around, rests his lower back against the railing. He’s not smiling.

Y/N walks closer, takes off her suit jacket and leaves it on the ground, feeling hot from running here. She already took off her shoes by the door. She’s sure that she’ll have blisters tomorrow. 

His eyes are on her as he watches her clutching the railing next to him. She’s looking out when he’s looking towards his penthouse.

“How could I not?” She says after a long while and she hears him exhale. 

“You’ve seen the emails.”

She nods, “I have,”

Dean turns around and moves behind her, places his hands on either side of hers and presses his body closer, caging her in. She feels him lowering his face, feels his lips on her throat. He kisses her and leaves them there. Her heart’s almost exploding.

“I don’t know how much you’ve heard before you left,” He’s talking about the dinner at his parents' place, she knows, “If you’d have stayed and listened longer, you would have heard me telling them that even though it’s fake, it feels fucking real to me. You would have heard me telling them that I wanted to ask you out properly and they would have to accept that I want you. That we were going to get an annulment and maybe one day I’ll get to pop the real question,”

“Would you want that?” 

He chuckles, “More than you know. I’d love for you to come back and spend the next two weeks here until this is all over. And after that, I’d love for you to stay. But also I’m not holding you back. If you want out, I’m gonna tell Sam to release you out of the contract.”

She turns in his grip and wraps her arms around his waist, places her cheek on his chest. Dean’s heart is beating as fast as hers.

After a while, she looks up at him, stands on her tip toes and kisses his cheek. 

“I hope that means that you’re coming back,” He smirks at her. 

“You want me to come back.”

“I’m lonely when you’re not here. I want you to move in, for good, if you want. Come on, tell me what it takes for me to get you to come back.”

She thinks about it. It would be too soon to move in with him and right into his room, no? She raises her eyebrows, “I still want my own room.” 

“It’s yours. You can have all the rooms you want.Maybe you want a room for your novels?” He’s laughing and she punches his chest.

Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip, “I want to take Fridays off occasionally because I want to see Jack more often,”

He purses his lips into a thin line and grins, “Granted,”

She looks at him, squints her eyes.

Dean chuckles, “Come on, what else? We’re negotiating. I like that,”

“Okay, when I say I want my space, you gotta give me that,”

“Of course,”

“No making fun of my books.” She’s pouting.

“I would never. At least not anymore.”

She looks at him to see him holding in a laugh.

“I don’t want you to treat me different to the other employees,”

Dean frowns, “You contradict yourself, because you basically just asked me for Fridays off.”

“That’s different,” She grins and he throws his head back to laugh, and she adds, “I don’t want you to wait for me every morning, because I don’t want to start as early as you do.”

“That, I can do. Try to be quiet so as not to wake up cranky — got it.” He winks, which earns him another punch to the chest.

“I might be pregnant,” She drops it like it’s fucking hot and Dean’s smile disappears. She goes on before he can utter a word, “And I know that you don’t want kids so I don’t even know what to think of it.”

Dean’s brow meets in the middle of his forehead, “Who said that I don’t want kids?”

“You? When you were telling it to Chuck and Naomi to excuse my outburst.”

He breathes out a weak smile, “That was just that, an excuse,” He kisses her forehead, “I would take full responsibility if you are. Maybe I’m hoping that you really are? Would it be bad?” 

“Well, yeah? I’m not ready yet.” She gestures wildly with her hands.

Dean pecks her lips, smiling before he digs around in his pants, goes down to his knees and she’s full on frowning.

“Do you wanna marry me, for real?” 

“No, Dean,” She says but she smiles, “I don’t want that. At least not yet.”

If Dean’s surprised by her saying no to him, he doesn’t let on. He stands up, takes her hand and slips the rings back onto her finger anyway because they’re still pretending for the next two weeks. His arms come around her and she hugs him in return, pressing the side of her face against his chest, listens to the staccato beat of his heart, “I won’t stop asking, though. You know I can be persistent.”

Oh yeah, she knows that. She buries her face into his shirt, breathes in his scent and mumbles, “Why do you want to marry me for real?” She has to ask. She’s too curious now.

“Because,” Dean holds her a little tighter, kisses the crown of her head, “You deserve good things and I wanna be one of them.”

She chuckles, “Jack told me what you talked about.”

“And he didn’t kill you?” Dean squints his eyes at her. He looks comical, it makes her smile, and then he adds, “That’s not what we agreed on, dammit, Jack!”

Dean’s laughing and she punches his chest, “Is it true that you know every detail of how we met?”

“Yeah,” He moves to kiss her forehead when she looks up, “When I told the reporters on our first social outing that I fell for you the moment you bumped into me, and I told you later that I fell for you when you smiled at me? That’s all true. It took me a week to go into that damn coffee shop, always backed out before I got to the door so many times. And then, when I finally found the courage and stepped in, you greeted me with a smile. However, the smile disappeared when you saw that it was me.”

She grins at the memories, “I was scared that you want me to pay for your ruined suit. I don’t have that kind of money,”

He chuckles, “That’s okay. I was going to ask you out then, but I chickened out. So instead, I offered you a job, thinking that if I’m too nervous to ask you out, maybe I can have you close and see you every day. Your smile is addictive. I thought that I was going to work on my courage in asking you out. Or maybe I thought that seeing you every day might put me off, maybe I thought that I’d see a side of you I don’t like, but that never happened. I liked every fucking thing about you. It had been a year and I still hadn’t asked you out.”

Dean lowers his forehead to her shoulders and her hand goes up to stroke his head.

“You’re so good with words, how come you couldn’t?”

“Because,” He looks up again, kisses her, “I had such a huge crush on you, and every time I was around you, I was angry at myself for not being able to ask you out.”

“‘S that's why you were so grumpy all the time?”

He lets out a huff of air, “Yeah,”

“You’re the worst,” She smiles.

“I know,” Dean says, “But I’m much more confident now,” He kisses her again. His lips feel familiar on her own, “What do you say. Reckon you can skip work for the day? I’m taking you on a date, I heard you like aquariums?”

Y/N really does. How does he even know?

Frowning, she looks at him, “I don’t know, my boss can be a dick sometimes. He probably won't give me the day off.”

Dean grins, licks his lips before they curve into a big and wide smile, he kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips, “Baby, I’d give you the world.”

FIN

EPILOGUE