#I still sleep with my childhood teddy his name is Snuggles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mygloviesme · 1 year ago

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cool about it, eleven years later. || myg || story finale

no. 3 out of 3: i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 10.5k (yup)

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking (casual wine sipping), mentions of toxic ex, smut (missionary, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, praise? idk)

if you see any edit mistakes, no you don’t. it’s 5 am and I’m too eager to release this!

inspo song: xo by beyonce

"your face is all that i see, i give you everything"

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:46PM

It feels silly, us all being so much older and sleeping over in Jungkook’s hotel room. Although, it is a huge hotel room. Anyway, it feels like we're too old for sleepovers like this. Even Yoongi, who stayed quiet most of the car ride, groaned in annoyance. Shouting, ‘Why did I spend so much money on a nice hotel if I was just gonna sleep on a couch?’

But Jungkook insisted and so did a still-tipsy Jimin. Namjoon was pretty neutral like always. I think he’s secretly excited though. I’m not sure if I can say the same for Yoongi. I couldn’t stop glancing at him during the car ride, examining his quick-witted retorts to Namjoon like I remembered. We’d swap eye-contact every once in a while, though fleeting, sending shock waves down to my core every time. But, the dust (my non-stop adrenaline) luckily settled once we arrived at the luxurious building.

As we entered the room, an eager Jungkook races to his room, shuffling around to only come out with a set of clothes. And for a second, a brief moment, I swear he shrinks a couple inches. Like he’s as small as he was then. It’s not like I miss that version of him more because I can still feel he’s that boy in instances like these. But it’s nostalgic. “Here.” He says, handing me the stack.

The sweats are soft and gray and the shirt I can smell even from here. Like laundry detergent, the one with the teddy bear on it. They feel undoubtedly expensive.

“O-Okay, I’m just gonna change in the bathroom.” I say, Jungkook nodding and pointing to the direction it’s in. I follow his finger and approach the tall door, turning the handle to enter inside. It gives me time to call Keiko and gather my thoughts. It’s been a long night filled with all sorts of things I have to sit and think about before I get back out and deal with it again.

Maybe not the yelling and shouting that occurred, but the thick awkwardness of the fact that we’re still getting used to each other. Eleven years is too long and two days is too short to recount everything we missed from each other's lives. The clock is ticking and I’m not sure how to slow down time.

I place the clothes on the counter and reach inside my purse for my phone, opening my contacts to dial Keiko. Quickly. She picks up instantly like always. She’s great at that.

“Hey Koko, how’s everything going? Do you need a ride?”

I gulp, “N-No, I’m actually staying at their hotel tonight.”

I hear her freeze, “WHAT? You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not!” I whisper and cover my mouth to muffle my voice as much as I can. It would be another problem if they heard me gossiping about tonight. But I have to debrief with her, it’s what we do.

“What do you mean by their hotel?”

“Well it’s Jungkook’s, but everyone agreed to have a sleepover.”

“What the fuck. I wish I was there! Hook me up, dear god.” She whines.

I laugh loudly, slapping my hand over my mouth when I realize the echoing it caused.

“Shut up. Maybe. But anyway, I’ll be here.”

“So what’s gonna happen? You gonna snuggle up to Yoongi or what?” She says and I hear her eating on something. Probably the rocky-road she claimed to hate. Liar.

“No, I’m not. Definitely not. We got into it tonight. Bad.”

She gasps, “Tell me.”

I exhale softly, “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. But everything’s fine now. We made up.”

“You made up, really?” She says with doubt. Don’t sound so surprised, jeez.

“Sort of. But there is one thing I wanted to tell you. Jimin got drunk and before me and Yoongi had…argued or whatever, he said ‘Yoongi isn’t the only one hung up on you.’ Talking about Jungkook. Isn’t that…crazy? What do you think it means?”

She sighs, “You know what it means, Koko. What did you expect from the boy? You guys cuddled like, every night.”

“He told me he considered me to be a sister!” I whisper-shout into the phone.

“I mean at first, yeah. But a hot girl coming to stay with seven boys every night? Come on.”

My face falls flat, my voice monotone. “I wish you’d keep some thoughts to yourself.”

“Anyway, that sounds complicated. But you’re a new Koko, new and improved. You can deal with this, I know you can. And if you wanna bail just call me up and I’ll come get you. I’ll be up for a while.” She reassures me.

I smile, “Thanks, Keiko. Love you. I’ll see you later.”

I hang up the phone and set it down, placing my head on the counter to take a deep breath. My forehead sits on the cold marble as I try to ground myself, calm myself. I don’t want the events of tonight to tamper with me. I want to enjoy this.

It hurts to think that they’ll be leaving in a day. That this night and tomorrow will be transient, because I miss them. I miss them like hell. I miss their laughs, their arguing. Their warm company that never fails to aid my stubborn, sad heart. As I lift my head to look at myself in the mirror, I witness the time that’s passed. The unmistakable creases on my face that have evolved as I got older. I wish they were here to see them as they came to fruition. I wish they could’ve seen and witnessed all my milestones. How did time pass by so quickly? I could’ve gotten so many more moments with them if I hadn’t left.

So many birthdays, holidays, everything. It’s not guilt that I feel, not even mourning. It's aching for all the time that I lost with them. They’ve always been my chosen family. And with Yoongi, even now I hurt when I think of everything that could’ve happened between us. Even if we stayed friends. Even if we stayed friends.

I take a break from my feelings and put on the clothes Jungkook gave me in a hurry. I know I’ve spent an absurd amount of time in this bathroom, but I still hear them from behind this door. So I know they can’t be settling for bed already.

Tonight calls for a later bedtime. Although, I do have work tomorrow.

JULY 11TH, 2023, 1:34AM

We’ve shared a bottle of wine or two throughout this night. Chatting about my own stories this time. All the things I’ve gotten into while living in this big city. Some stories I keep for myself, unsure of whether they’re appropriate for this late-night banter. Like the time in my work bathroom with a colleague of mine. That’s definitely unimportant.

It isn’t long until Namjoon and Jungkook are calling it a night, surprisingly. I look at Yoongi who isn’t saying anything at all. Is he not going to bed? Should I say I’m calling it a night too just to avoid being alone with him?

I’ve wanted to talk with him ever since I saw him that night, but right now it scares me shitless.

“Kanako, you coming?” Jungkook asks me while carrying wine glasses to the sink. I revert from looking at Yoongi for reassurance, allowance, to stay back with him. I go with my gut.

“N-No, I think I’ll stick around for a while longer.” Jungkook darts his eyes from me to Yoongi, sucking in his teeth. Is he upset?

“Well you can sleep in my bed. The three of us are taking the floor. It’s a big room, so. You know. Hope that’s okay.” His voice drips with irritation. He’s obviously discontent with me staying with Yoongi. I’ll take care of that later.

“That’s okay with me.” I smile weakly.

He doesn’t necessarily listen to my response, instead turning his back to walk to the room. Namjoon and a sleepy Jimin bidding a good night before following suit.

I watch them leave, counting down the seconds until they’re out of sight. It’s easier if I act like I’m distracted by them instead of talking to Yoongi.

I grab the second bottle of wine that’s been opened by Jungkook earlier tonight, pouring myself another glass. Keeping busy. Still avoiding. I feel his eyes on me, though. I think he’s wondering if I’ll say something first. But to my surprise, he speaks.

His isolated voice sends chills down to my abdomen, echoing in this sleek lounge space. His voice has always been low, smooth. Perfect to listen to as you’re falling asleep. I remember that so vividly. Him whispering to me as we both drifted off to sleep, kissing my sleepy face. His affection was constant. I remember the relentless hands all over my body when he got the chance. Shit, what did he say?

I widen my eyes, “S-Sorry. What was that?”

He laughs and takes a sip of the dark red liquid, talking in the glass.

“So you and Keiko get along well?” He repeats.

I bob my head from side-to-side, “Something like that. I’m kidding. Yes. We got along great, she’s like my sister.” There’s a loud nervousness in me that he’s not reciprocating. His words are confident, curious. I’m not used to this. Is it bad that I’m so anxious around him? Those almond eyes look ethereal beside the glow of the city lights. He’s beautiful. I wish I could take a photo of him right now.

“That’s great.” He responds casually.

Silence.

I drink from my wine again, “Mmm- I listened to your solo album. It’s amazing.” I say, acting like the thought just came to mind.

He nods, “Thanks. It took a while to make but I’m happy with the outcome. And tour was good too.”

“Right! Tour! I saw photos.” I wince at how well I’ve been keeping up with all of their extracurriculars.

His eyes never break eye contact with me as he speaks, “What’d you think?”

I chortle nervously, “It looked really cool and thought-out. I think all of your songs are great.”

“All of them?”

Shit. The elephant in the room has stomped its way through the door.

“Y-Yeah. All of them.” I whisper, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass.

I want to ask, how many other songs are about me? And have you written as much about Aimee? But I’m too old to be spiteful. It’s making me gray faster.

His veiny fingers push through his long hair, falling perfectly back into place as he sets his hand down on the kitchen counter. It suits him so well. He looks so sophisticated, and it’s still so surreal that I’m in front of him once again. Just like an inevitability, like death (morbid, I know) I had weirdly accepted that I would never see them, him, ever again. Was that selfish of me?

The reechoing of stillness makes my mind wander towards the city that never sleeps. It’s especially louder tonight during the absence of either of our voices.

I hear the honking and bustling of city life, something that never gets old. I loved it when I first got here. It filled in the gaps of silence so I wouldn’t be forced to think so much when I was sleeping at night. When I’d be crying myself out of tears because of the long-haired man sitting beside me. I would think about the young kids, whose night was just starting. The people closing up shop, the babies being put to bed. It was easier to live outside of myself here. You can’t help but love everything around you. Even the sweaty summer and nasty rain and the smell of garbage that never leaves certain streets. It’s become my new home. Nothing like Korea or Japan. Maybe that’s the point.

As I sit next to Yoongi, someone who reminds me of the past loneliness I used to feel, it scares me again. I’m not sure if him turning out to be a complete stranger, or the same Yoongi I used to know, is better. It’s nice to know that after all this time he can still look at me like an equal. Like I didn’t abandon him. But do I want him to have completely forgotten about the girl I used to be? I did not prepare for this in therapy.

“I wish I had invited you to visit me.” I confess, staring off into the glass window behind him.

He looks at me softly, “I wish you did too. But I’m here now. We’re here now. It’s okay.” He says, and I have a feeling he’s talking about us two instead of all five. It’s consoling. And there it is again, that x-ray vision he has into my thoughts. Or am I being ridiculous once more?

“Is it?” My overthinking takes over. It was eleven years ago, yes. But it was hard, it was breaking. How could I not apologize, or even ask how I can make up for it? I have so much to say, but I await his answer instead.

He shifts, “It is. I’m sorry for…what I said at dinner. It was impulsive and not thought out. I should’ve known not to say that.”

My expression grows dejected. I feel like I should be the one apologizing, so I do.

“Don’t be sorry. At all. I mean– it had to come up either way. I know what I did must’ve affected you all. It affected me a lot. So, I’m sorry. For not reaching out, for leaving everything unsaid.”

His lips curl into a weak smile, “We were all young. We didn’t know the full extent of what you were going through, Kanako. All is forgiven, I promise. I’m just happy to be talking with you now.”

I nod slowly, partially accepting his forgiveness and willingness to move on. It’s hard to believe that’s all there is to it, but I want to believe him. I’m not going to blame myself for the feelings I had because of my failing career and abusive relationship, but I can feel guilt for not talking to them even after the healing. That’s what I thought was best for myself at the time, what would help me move on better.

And maybe it did in some ways, but I now know it just feels good, as well as other things, to be under the same roof as Yoongi again.

And between the beat of silence I get the confidence to ask, “So you and Aimee?”

He throws his head back with an amused smile, “Ah- no. I just ran into her that night and we kind of- kissed. Or something. But she’s way too young for me.”

I’m glad he feels comfortable enough to tell me, but it still stings just a little bit. But they’re not even together. All this overthinking only gave me more stress. Old habits die hard, I guess.

“I see. So you’re…”

“Single? You’re quite nosy, Kanako.”

With a slip of the tongue I say, “I love it when you say my name.” But yet, nothing about it is sensual. It’s like I’m dancing around a thought neither of us want to fully think about. There’s a line.

His gaze becomes gentler, “I know.”

God, he knows?

He grins at me before grabbing the bottle of wine to top off my glass, saying nothing. How could he just say that? It’s impossible to read him right now, which is something I would’ve never expected. If it was eleven years back, that is.

“I’m single.” He responds and sits back comfortably in his chair.

His words sound premeditated, like he knew I would ask. And he would answer. It seems the both of us are being a bit self-indulgent with our questions tonight. But the way he talks to me is seemingly affectionate. He’s no longer carrying me like water in his hands. I’m the glass he’s drinking in.

I still feel inexperienced, something he obviously isn’t anymore. I can’t leech onto anything to make me feel more at ease, not even his presence that radiates heat.

“And you? Were you being honest at dinner or do you have a secret boyfriend?” He teases.

“I’m not sure why I’d keep it a secret.” I laugh, “But no, no one. Just me and Keiko.”

He hums and peers around the room. “Like Jimin said, has there ever been…someone?”

I hesitate for a moment. “I was being painfully honest about that too. I’ve seen guys, I guess. But this city feels so small sometimes I think I’ve run out of options.” I inch my gaze towards him like I’m afraid to know the next answer, “You?” I ask.

“Sort of, yeah. One. I was twenty five and it was only for a year. I just got too busy and she got impatient with me, so we thought to just end it.”

“Was it hard?” I whisper.

“Yeah it was.” He chuckles and scratches the back of his with nervousness, “I loved her but…life just gets in the way. It’s annoying. I’m over it though.”

It feels so odd to talk to him about this. Would you call it exes bonding over exes? Or lack thereof on my part. But I’m glad he’s been loved. That he found that. It’s comforting to know about him, even if I wasn’t there. It hurts, but I’m putting maturity above my feelings.

“So-”

“I wanted to-”

We speak at the same time, sharing casual laughter soon after. I let him go first.

He puffs out, “Uh, I just– wanted to say that…I hope you didn’t feel offended. After I released those songs.” He says repentantly.

“Oh,” I tense up, “Not at all. Not at all. If you felt so musically inclined-”

“Shut up.”

“If you felt so musically inclined to, then I can’t blame you for it, right?”

He titters slightly, swiveling his drink. I can tell he’s relieved by the way his smize stays on his face, but there’s a disinclination to him as the seconds turn into minutes.

He taps his glass, “I meant every word, Kanako.” He says quietly.

There’s no need for repetition, I digest what he said like I’ve been starving for days.

I hang onto every word for what feels like hours, mouth slightly open before I can figure out what I’m going to say. I enjoy seeing him like this, honest. Vulnerable. I want to savor it. It’s sparking something inside of me that I thought had been shriveled into nothing.

“I know, Yoongi.” I make it sound like it’s about to end. This, all of this. Like the feelings we had, or have, are only being brought up in passing. But there’s nothing about this that I’m ready to finalize. I now know, ever since that time I left, that his love for me ran like the ocean. I was the combining waves to his body of water. It’s still there. Am I getting ahead of myself?

As we settle into each other's energy at this moment, it’s a shared realization that there is no fire we have to combat anymore. It’s a mutual source we both want to indulge in. Calm. It would be a lie if I said it wasn’t a stormier, thrashing feeling than I’d planned.

But it’s all the same.

His hand lingers face down on the wrap-around kitchen counter, begging for touch. I keep mine on my glass, not giving in just yet. It could either turn out to be embarrassing or something else I need to procrastinate from dealing with.

“Any other songs I should know about?” I joke.

His expression is stoic, “Most of them.”

My heart skips a couple beats. If I didn’t know any better I’d think I was going into cardiac arrest. With his body language it seems like he’s being completely serious. Completely, utterly serious.

He keeps his gaze on his hand, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I share his amusement with a bit of confusion.

He clenches his jaw.

“I think I’ll go crazy if you don’t touch me, Kanako.”

I’m stunned by his frankness, not being able to speak. Is it now that I’m suddenly at a loss? Why is it now I have nothing to say anymore? All the worry, the thoughts, the stress course through my veins pour out of me as he looks at me. His gaze can’t be more gentle, more loving. But there’s a neediness within him that’s seeping to me. I can’t deny him of that, or myself.

“Yoongi-”

“I need– I don’t even– I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I said that.”

“You don’t?” I ask, because the answer is obvious to me. I want to touch him too. I’m letting my childlike recklessness take over. There’s not one voice in my head saying ‘no’ louder than the ones saying ‘yes’. Yes, yes, yes.

“I don’t know where to start.” He whispers.

“I don’t know either.” I respond. Because the answer to that is obvious as well. It’s painfully, unfortunately obvious. We just want each other, that’s all there is to it. Why speak when we can forget it all? Maybe even start where we left off? That could never happen.

His hand strides over to my face in what feels like a quiet but grand gesture, leaning his body slowly into mine. It’s impulsive, rushed. We both have no idea what we’re doing and what this will lead to.

“Yoongi…” I breathe as he draws his lips closer to me. They’re so shiny, and I remember that cupid's bow so well. His mouth brushes over mine and before I can take another breath, he plants onto me softly. I’m almost too afraid to touch him, knowing it’ll make it all the more real. If I let myself enjoy this moment, will it go too far?

Will I expect things from him he won’t be able to give me? Because I can’t live another eleven years without him. Now that I’m tasting him again, I’m not sure how I even lasted.

It’s slow and his tongue speaks a language that makes the minimal space between us agonizing. Closer, wetter, sensual. It’s what I crave most as his mouth moves with mine in a deep rhythm. I feel the vibration of a low hum coming from this throat, causing me to release the tiniest moan only he could hear. His fingers are relentless with caresses to my jaw, neck, anywhere.

I keep my hands in his hair, diving into the soft strands that were once mine. I follow the natural growth and end up at his neck, tousling with the hair that almost reaches his shoulders. It was never this long, never this thick. Everything about him is pillowy and soft, so easy to get lost in. He’s eating me whole, and I let him.

But, there’s a familiar stinging of discomfort when I try enveloping him fully, something that tugs at my heartstrings. Telling me that this is all too much, it’s too painful. I can taste the spotting of wine in his saliva and can only think to pull away in a sudden movement. I need to click my heels to get back into reality, I need to go home.

“Kanako-” He whispers, caught off guard by my swift action.

“This is all too–I don’t know if I can do this.” I mutter breathlessly, my head still caught up in the moment we had a second ago, the feelings that are boiling to the surface. My insides are twisting and being turned inside out. This is not how I thought any of this would go.

“Don’t do that, not now.” He asserts.

I’m choking up now, the tears that live inside of me never fail to reset whenever I’m caught. But I know exactly what he’s referring to. No need to play dumb. He knew me then and he can recognize me now. Maybe not know me, not fully, but we’re intertwined together whether we like it or not. His eyes scan me, needing an answer. Don’t run away, they say.

“I’m not trying to,” My voice shakes, looking back into his gaze again. “I just–I still, I love you.” I say, like I’ve been holding it back since last night. Because I have, every inch of my body is regurgitating those words like they were never supposed to come up.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, causing me to get up from my seat and try to collect myself. I’m thinking he doesn’t love me back, how could he when it’s been so long? I’m so stupid.

He takes a short breath, “Of course I love you too, Kanako. How could I stop? How could I have ever stopped?” He says almost angrily. He’s frustrated with my need to escape him again. I can sense it.

“It’s been too long, we’re strangers.” I respond, fighting the idea that we could ever go back.

“We need to try. I need to. I couldn’t stop writing songs about you, I couldn’t stop hoping that one day I would find you again. It was never supposed to end that way. Don’t you think so too?” He pleads, his words come out in a blurt-like manner. He’s standing with me as well, his frame still a few inches above me like it was that time ago.

“And then what– everything just turns out perfectly? We all just live like nothing ever happened?” I shake my head in visible denial.

He takes a step closer to me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, but we can figure it out. Slowly, but it can happen. Unless you don’t want it to. I can respect that, Kanako. We don’t have to be romantic. Just don’t leave. Pick up my calls, write to me, visit. Anything. Just come back to me.” He whispers. He’s stripped any wall down that stood there previously. We’re now eye-to-eye, lips closening once again.

He’s magnetic. He’s my home. I’ve tried clicking my heels but I always end up back here, with him. Even if it was just in my dreams. But now he’s real, and how could I ever reject something that makes me feel this good? This loved?

And as he pulls me in once more, to kiss me once more, he says, “Let me in.”

So I’m now his, completely. I don’t feel spun around or twisted into nothing, I feel like his lips are the warm blanket wrapping around my aching body. His mouth aids my thoughts and his fingers ease my tense shoulders. I give in to him. He’s promised himself to me and pleaded that I come back to him. So I will. This time with no hesitation.

We’re underneath the roof that hides the night sky but as he holds me to lengthen our kiss, I feel like the stars are twinkling above our heads. Like there’s constellations brushing against my neck and the moon is only inches away. I move our bodies closer to the couch, Yoongi’s back now pressed up against it.

He takes my hint and swiftly walks around the gray fixture, taking my hands so I follow him. I turn to him and push his chest softly so he lays down on the plush cushions, his eyes following every single movement I make. He has this smile he always used to have whenever it was just us. Whenever I’d be above him, tugging at my shirt like I am now.

He sits up, placing his hands over mine that were about to take off my shirt. “Can I do it?” He whispers quietly, desperation leaking off every word. I nod slowly, feeling as he begins to peel off the thin fabric. His fingers brush over my stomach, causing a chill to run down my arms. He gives me goosebumps without having to do anything.

As he has my shirt fall down on the floor, he runs his hands down my stomach slowly, curling his knuckles into the band of my skirt. He shimmies the tight material down my thighs until it pools around my ankles, leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes carve out the small details of my body, my mind reeling every time he looked me up-and-down as if we were just two strangers ogling each other.

Although he’s seen me before, seen all of me, that version of me doesn’t exist anymore. I have new spots and scars and a good amount of weight that wasn’t there previously. It has me feeling a little self-conscious, hoping he isn’t disappointed. I don’t feel a need for his validation, but his reassurance.

“I don’t have my idol body anymore in case you couldn’t tell.” I joke sheepishly, dropping my head slightly to scan myself.

He pulls me in, having me straddle his now laying body. “You mean you don’t have the same body you did when you were eighteen? That’s normal and completely, totally fine with me. I want you how you are now.” He kisses my fingers individually as he speaks. I sigh into the softness of his lips as they plant on my fingertips, needing more of him.

I then jerk my hand from him playfully, a confused expression morphing on his face.

“I wanna see you now.” I say lowly.

He sets his arms above him like he’s waiting to be undressed which causes a small laugh from me. I lift his shirt off of him, crawling down his body awkwardly for his pants next. “This isn’t as sexy as I’d want it to be.” I mutter.

He chuckles, “But you look cute doing it.” He reaches over to pet my head, which I realize I liked more than I’d be able to admit.

I huff and yank the ankles of his pants to get it over with, once and for all. I let the piece of clothing fall down beside the couch and go back to where I was previously.

He hums, “As much as I like seeing you on top of me, I think we should do this properly. It is our first time, isn’t it?”

A smile extends on my face hearing him say those words, although we’re still doing it on a couch, it’s the effort that counts, right? So I abide, letting him sit up so we can trade places. I feel much younger again with the way everything is so airy. My first time with Haneul wasn’t as loving as I had once thought it was. Nothing about that relationship was loving, but it makes me happy to know that I could do this with Yoongi. As if it was a redo, after all those other men these past eleven years.

I’ve had good sex, don’t get me wrong. But never anything as intimate as this.

As Yoongi hovers over me, he leans down to press his lips against mine. We get back into what was happening earlier, desperately locking into each other. Filling any gaps of space, which resided into Yoongi sneakily sliding his knee between my thighs. There’s heat radiating off of my sensitivity, including a pooling of wetness as he grinds into me.

He looks so hot in his black boxers and I use his nearly nude body to my advantage, caressing his soft shoulders. Every part of his body is warm, it’s real. He’s real. His body has changed too. I can tell he’s been working out a little more. Which is never, ever a bad thing. I can’t get enough of him, bucking my hips into his knee further.

“I’ll give you what you want in a moment,” He teases as his lips part from mine. He kisses down my chin to my neck, licking softly on my collarbones. As his tongue lingers on my skin he lifts my back to unhook my bra almost seamlessly. It causes a gasp from me, feeling the cold air as it bites at my breasts suddenly. His fingers make circles on the sensitive area, teasing my hard nipples.

His mouth travels down my body but his hands stay on my chest until he’s reached the start of my underwear. I arch my back further when I feel his hot breath against my clothed heat, Yoongi pecking a kiss before he redirects his hands. “This okay?” He asks quietly while his hands play with each side of my panties.

“Yes, yes.” I whisper quickly. I need him so badly, his mouth, his tongue. I want him inside of me, most importantly. To know what he feels like on top of me. But I can wait, especially if that means he’ll mouth-fuck me first.

He slides down my underwear slowly, leaving me fully nude. My breath hitches when I feel his hands, quick to spread my legs. He urges me to throw a leg over the couch, so I do. This, I’m not as insecure about. Not when I’m so desperately needy.

His finger glides over the slit of my pussy, “Pretty Kanako. So wet for me. Is it? Just for me?”

I release a shaky breath from my throat, nodding slowly.

“Let me hear you, pretty. Tell me it’s just for me.”

He’s making an absolute puddle of me, literally and metaphorically. Feeling my secretion dripping down to his already drenched finger that’s barely touched me. “Just for you. All for you.” I whine.

My hips stutter against Yoongi’s curious mouth, “That’s my pretty baby,” He purrs. He lets his tongue sliver to my opening, flattening the center and licking me slowly.

“Oh– god,” I choke out, feeling his lips suction around my clit and tugging at it teasingly.

His mouth releases in a quiet pop– delving back into his previous motions. His tongue shamelessly digs into me, my wet mess painting his chin erotically. He hums into my pussy with devious intent, knowing the vibrations of his velvety voice would send me into a spiral.

– And it does, my hands trying to grab into anything I could to contain myself. I had to remember we were doing this with three people in the next room over, unfortunately. The only time I didn’t want those boys in the same presence as me.

I try to whisper a ‘f-faster’ but all that escapes is a sigh. I think he understands because before I know it, he uses his fingers to spread me open, covered in my slick. His eyes dart to mine, looking into me as he plants his tongue on my vulnerable clit. My brows furrow and my mouth forms a quiet whimper, feeling him burying his face into me.

My cheeks are burning with a dark red, sweat forming at my forehead. The sight of his moppy hair and bare skin tugging at my thighs is enough to make me want to call it. I need to know how it’d feel to have all inches of his length in me. I remember how big he was– how much I would’ve given to have him tear me open then. And now the moment is so close, including my approaching orgasm.

His tongue is greedy– and if I didn’t know any better I’d assume this act was for himself. How much he’s sucking and licking me clean, making sure I'm trembling– he loves this.

“I c-can’t come yet– I need you..” I complain as my body says otherwise.

He lifts his head to stop, making sure to replace his tongue with his thumb to play with my clit instead. “You sure? My Kanako doesn’t want to come all over my face? Because I know how much you loved it then.” He retorts. It’s hard to wrap my mind around having a normal conversation in the midst of my shaky legs and swollen clit, so I speak, although foggily.

I place my wrist on my forehead, “I-I do, but I need you inside me. Please.” I plead breathlessly.

His thumb stops and he travels to my upper body slowly, not bothering wiping the glossy slick that’s smeared on his face. Instead he rushes for a kiss, all forms of fluids being swapped between our mouths. “My needy girl.” He taunts with a smirk on his face.

His hands travel to his boxers, taking them off swiftly. My wandering eyes still lock on his lengthy dick, seeing it bounce straight up due to how hard he’s become. There’s a familiar liquid that has the head glistening– precum. He gulps as his eyes look back to my body, hot and swollen. I’m a mess for him, I’m utterly open for him. My fingers trickle down to my saturated pussy, circling my clit to provoke him.

His fingers grip his cock, pumping slowly as he stares at me playing with myself. He’s set in stone, groaning at the scene before him.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He mutters, making gentle eye contact with me. I smile warmly as a thank you, feeling him line his cock against my opening. He pushes in enough to where the tip is fully in, moving his hands so they’re on both sides of me.

I grab a handful of his hair, bringing his head into the nape of my neck as he makes his first thrust. I let out a gasp that echoes throughout the lounge room when his thrusts become two, three, until he’s created a slow rhythm to ease us both into it. Kanako, pretty pretty Kanako. I love you so much, love being inside you, he moans into my skin.

As pleasure cases him in a haze, his movements speak for him, his cock twitching with every inch he buries into me. I’ve hit the point where I’m beyond words, just spiraling into the mess he’s created of me. All that’s coming out is pitiful whimpers as my hands grip at his hair and back.

“Y-You’re tightening around my c-cock, you know that?” He moans in disbelief. He removes his head from my neck to sit up right, continuing to pump into me. They’re growing faster by the second but by his sultry eyes I can tell he wants to savor every moment of this. I take in the crevices that outline his skin. The soft muscles around his stomach and his veiny hands that are holding steady on my stomach.

He’s focused on pushing himself further into me, wanting to fill up my insides with as much of his cock as he can. He slips a hand to my ankle that’s resting over the couch, placing it on his shoulder to gain more momentum. My head brushes the arm of the couch as he fastens his pace, watching as he bites his lip. “You look so good underneath me, baby. Keep your eyes on me– wanna see how you look taking all of me,” And so I do, enjoying every single second of my view of him ramming into me like he knows nothing else.

His thumb climbs back over to my clit, rubbing it gently to induce an orgasm from me. I can only assume he’s close, seeing his mouth agape and his thrusts becoming pounds. He’s hitting that spot inside me repeatedly, the overstimulation making me forget about how quiet I’m supposed to be.

“Yoongi…yoongi…fuck-!” His name rolls off my tongue effortlessly.

“Give it to me, pretty. Cover my dick in your cum, please,” He grunts quietly, leaning his head back with elation.

His sweaty bangs hang over his reddened face as he pumps into me in-and-out like clockwork. I watch him clench his jaw, his hold on my calf becoming tighter as his body reaches closer and closer to release. I tighten around him as the thumb he has pressed against my clit becomes too much to bear, tears pricking my eyes. “Yoongi, please–” I whimper loudly, digging my hands into his back.

He groans behind his teeth– snapping his hips to pump into my slick heat, our fluids conjoining together, making his dick glisten with a foggy whiteness. I shut my eyes quickly and let the sensations take over, a rush of warmth starting from my toes to my head.

It makes me hazy in every sense of the word, high off the feeling of his dick hitting my sensitive spot over and over again— whilst he simultaneously circles my swollen clit with the pad of his thumb.

“O-Oh shit–” I moan, my legs nearly going limp underneath him. I feel Yoongi slide his cock out,

grabbing a fistful of my hair to bring my face up to his dick. “Open f-for me, baby,” He demands, and I do so, having him stuff my mouth full of his length.

I place my hands on his hips and stroke him with my tongue, suctioning his hard cock.

“God– fuck!” He moans, tugging at my hair as he paints the inside of my mouth with white. I don’t let go from my grip on his skin, bobbing my head into him to stretch out his orgasm as much as I can. We’re both as tired as can be but watching him from below like this, seeing him unravel, is all I need to keep going.

“Baby– baby…” He cooes as he glides his length from my mouth, collapsing from his knees and pressing his forehead against mine– breathing heavily. He grabs my face with his hands and kisses my mouth lazily, “My Kanako…I love you,” He whispers, moving his lips to scatter pecks all over my face.

“I love you, Yoongi. I love you so much.” I reply lazily, succumbing to his sloppy kisses. He holds me like this for moments on end, forehead pressed against mine. We share each other's air as our chests move fast, heavy. I can see his tired state and yet– he’s unable to let go of me. Breathing me in as I am him, not wanting to end this just yet.

But of course there seems to be always something, especially when it comes to the fact we just had sex on this hotel couch. Nice hotel couch, ‘kay?

“What the actual fuck.” The moment is interrupted, like a dumbbell being dropped on a glass coffee table. I’m struck with the deepest sense of horror and embarrassment, reality hitting me hard and fast. Jungkook is stood there, boxers only, rubbing his eyes as he stares at me and Yoongi. We’re both covered in sex and must smell like it too– Yoongi grabbing a pillow to throw over me.

“Jungkook, this is– it’s-” Yoongi starts, but the young boy cuts him off.

“You guys are really…” He trails off in his scratchy-sleep voice.

I furrow my brows angrily, so many feelings being present at once.

“Just- let me get dressed and we can talk about this.” I urge him, darting my eyes around to emphasize the current situation. My naked body, Yoongi’s now soft dick, and a messy couch.

Jungkook shakes his head and goes back into his room to get dressed as well, is what I choose to assume. The door shuts quietly and I turn to Yoongi– my eyes wide. “Fuck. Fuck.” I whisper yell at him.

“I’m sorry, I know-”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Kanako, he’s older now. He isn’t fifteen anymore, don’t you think he can handle it?” Yoongi questions. I bite my lip and pick up my clothes from the floor, deciding to put Yoongi's bigger shirt on instead of my tight one. I don’t bother snapping my bra back on– too much work.

I answer while changing, “There’s other conflicts at hand. I think you know what they are.” I respond. Yoongi grows faint, only nodding.

As I struggle to put on my skirt I decide to leave it off, knowing the baggier top will cover whatever my underwear can’t. “Just let me talk to him. I’ll be back. Tell him to meet me out there.” I say evenly, pointing my gaze to the balcony.

Yoongi sighs in acceptance and plants a kiss on my forehead, “As long as you come back.”

JULY 11TH, 2023, 3:30AM

I stand on the balcony, arms resting on the railing. There couldn’t be anything more nostalgic than standing out here. Under the stars in this summer air. Reminds me of all those good and bad moments I had in their dorms. This would be the perfect way to end this night– if it wasn’t for what just happened.

I hear Jungkook behind me, his hand closing the sliding door. “Hey.” He mutters.

“Jungkook…” I say almost immediately, needing to hash whatever it is to come.

“You know it’s funny,” He shifts, walking next to me with his hands stuffed in his pockets.“When I got here at first, I didn’t even know it had a balcony. It’s covered behind those curtains, but I felt drawn to it. So I opened them and discovered this. You were the first thing I thought of when I got out here.”

“Really?” I ask, entertaining the sudden change in topic. If it keeps me from having to talk about what he walked into, I’ll gladly do so.

“Kanako, you pop up into my head at least once a day.”

“For the past eleven years?”

His mouth stutters before he speaks, “Never skipped a day. I…don’t think any of us went a full twenty-four hours without thinking of you.”

I whisper a small ‘oh’, looking at him fondly. The night sky shadows his face perfectly, following the curvature of his nose to his lips. That lip ring, I can’t deny it looks great on him. My eyes

can’t help but trail to the sleeve on his arm, scattered in permanent ink. I crave for the mutuality we had before. But I don’t regret doing what I did with Yoongi, even if it makes me selfish.

“What about you?” He meets my eyes, “Did you ever think about me?”

I ache at his voice, hearing him ask that. Like he should know. He needs to know.

“Every day.” I confess easily. I’ve been needing to say that. “I’m sorry I didn’t call…or-or pick up. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t…” My voice gets shaky and my throat gets caught.

He wraps his arm around me casually, like he used to before. This time it’s able to loop around my shoulder fully, and it covers more. It’s solid and warm, comforting.

“I forgive you.” He says, placing a kiss on my head. I nuzzle into his embrace, accepting the forgiveness I don’t think I deserve. Maybe I will one day, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for everything I lost.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” I smile, persevering through the stinging that’s currently ripping me in two. A beat of silence floats above us, but it isn’t unwanted. It’s singing softly, like background music. I settle into the darkness of the sky, enjoying the feeling of having him here again.

I always dreamt about this. About seeing them, him, Yoongi, all over again. I’m so content. But still, there’s a question. Undeclared queries my mind is aching to figure out the answer to.

“Jungkook–”

“I know.”

“But-”

“I’ll get over it.”

He sucks in his teeth, nodding as if accepting his fate. I shake my head and separate my body from his. He looks at me like I’m being difficult, “Kanako, let’s not do this.” He argues.

I bite the inside of my cheek, “I can’t…be truly happy with Yoongi if you’re in pain. It’s not fair.”

His expression softens. It’s almost like he’s the eldest, the one to talk me down. It makes me devastated to see him take on this role. The bigger person, the mature one.

“I can’t be truly happy if you’re not. I love you, so that means I want the best for you. I-I would’ve fought for you. I could’ve. God Kanako– the things I would’ve done to have you–” He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his messy hair, “But you’ve never been mine.” He finishes, pupil’s still focused on me.

You’ve never been mine. Those words pain me, thinking of what he must’ve felt through all of this. The heartbreak, the loss, and now the rejection. If only I could feel what he felt, if I could aid his pain in some way. The thought of giving up Yoongi for Jungkook is not at all an easy one, not one I’d choose in this lifetime. The boy was never that to me. if I could be two different people, just so he could have a part of me in the way he wants, I would.

But that’s not possible. It never will be.

I exhale heavily, processing everything he’s just said. Everything that’s happened the past few hours.

“How did it even come to that? The last thing I remember…” I whisper.

“It wasn’t until you were gone, like really really gone, Kanako. I was just a kid, I didn’t know what those feelings were. How I felt about…a life with you. One that was different than I initially thought. And when I finally did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I needed to talk to you, to know if that could ever happen.”

“Is that why? You called for-for months?”

He looks down, “Towards the end, yeah. Until it was clear that you didn’t want to be…known anymore. I know different now, obviously. But, it broke me. I was so angry that every girl I was ever with was compared to you. Every girl I wanted was just a replica of you. I mean– whatever. It’s…whatever.” He shrugs and shifts his gaze back to the streets before us.

I peer my head over to him, “I’m sorry, Jungkook. I’m so sorry. I wish…that I could-”

“Don’t do that to me, Kanako. Please.” He mutters, still refusing my direction.

I reach my finger for his chin, tilting it towards me. There’s watery tears pooling his eyes, making me crumble at the sight. I would do anything to heal his hurt, to make this all the easier. But would it be selfish of me to choose Yoongi? There is no other option for me, besides no one at all.

I don’t love Jungkook the way he wants me to, I don’t think I ever could. He holds a big piece of my heart, one made especially for him. He fits into the crevice so perfectly, but the space for anything more is nonexistent. I could never kiss him the way I do Yoongi, never look at him like a lover. He’s my Jungkook. While Yoongi holds the position of soulmate, Jungkook is my twin flame. Connected by familiarity and nostalgia, everything that has to do with the word ‘home.’

He smiles, the one he does where I can see his two front teeth. He’s back.

“I won’t. Just stay by our side again, okay?” He says, though I know through layers of pain.

He almost jumps at me– bringing me in for a tight hug. I go on my tip-toes slightly to rest my chin on his shoulder, surrendering all my tension into his arms. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay, Kookie.”

He hums and rocks me slightly, from side-to-side. I reach my hand over his arm to wipe the small drops that were close to running down my face. This time, and maybe one of the firsts, the tears being happy ones. Pure, indescribable bliss runs through my body like clear river water, knowing I’m back with them for good.

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right? We can go to breakfast and maybe some art galleries?” Jungkook sniffles, parting from the hug.

I sigh whilst my body cringes, thinking of work. Fuck.

“I have to go to work tomorrow, my boss needs me to review some stuff.” I whine, showing my blatant annoyance.

He frowns, “You can’t call out?”

I puff out, placing my hands on my hips. “Jungkook.”

“Sorry, sorry. That’s okay, I suppose. But you’ll make it to visit us before our flight? It’s at 6 pm, but you can see us at four-thirtyish, before we head out so you’re not caught by paparazzi or something.”

I nod quickly, “Yes, absolutely. I can do that.”

Some quietness passes, he shuffles his feet awkwardly.

“What?” I squint, confused.

“Well, what about…after? Will we hear from you? WIll you…visit?” He mumbles coherently enough to where I can understand. I hesitate, but only for a millisecond. I’m sure of it now, all of it. I won’t run away. Not when it’s good for me. And they’re good for me.

A part of me flickers thinking of Korea again. But I think it’ll look different, feel different. I’m embracing the old Kanako as much as the new one. If anything, I’m excited to experience it as the person I am now. See it in a different lens. Maybe I’ll visit the Han River again, ride bikes with Namjoon and have picnics with Yoongi.

And most importantly, I know my mothers spirit resides there. She isn’t a ghost to me anymore, something I’m afraid of. Keiko’s made it easier to celebrate her. I can do that again. With them.

I reassure the young boy, “I’ll call, text, send letters, and facetime. And…maybe I’ll stop by for a visit or two. Possibly stay at your place?” I bite my lip, staring up to him teasingly. Knowing he’ll definitely like the idea of me sleeping over like all those times before.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, “Sure, yeah. Whatever. You’re gonna have to tell Yoongi that he’s gonna have to split the time up…or we’ll just share the bed again.”

“I’m nearly thirty, Jungkook. I can’t do that.”

He pouts.

I roll my eyes in response, “Ok. Maybe.”

The sliding door opens once more, a now-dressed Yoongi peering from inside. Jungkook tenses just a bit, not saying anything as he enters.

“Everything..okay?” Yoongi asks, folding his arms to protect himself from the slight cold that lingers.

I smile at Jungkook who in turn eases back up.

“I was actually just telling Jungkook,” I turn back to Yoongi, “That I’ll be visiting you guys before you head off for the airport. Work and stuff.” I finish. Jungkook nods in agreement, shoving me playfully. “Tell him what else.” He whispers.

I suck in a breath, “Andddd, I’ll be visiting you soon. In Korea. So don’t get sick of me just yet.”

He follows to where me and Jungkook are, placing his elbows on the balcony railing. We all look at each other fondly, taking mental pictures of this moment.

Yoongi exhales, “If you're the one taking care of me, I hope I get sick all the time.”

Jungkook cringes, “That was so bad, hyung.”

JULY 11TH, 2023, 4:27PM

There’s been many times throughout my work day that I’ve fallen asleep. If it wasn’t for this day being especially busy, I would’ve passed out on my desk. But everything in me was fighting to stay conscious. Not because I was needed, but because of the boys.

Embarrassingly so, they were my main priority of the day. I made sure I got everything done just in time to clock out early, rushing to gather my things and speeding out the door.

Now I sit in an Uber in the middle of traffic. The hotel they’re staying at is ten minutes away by car but fifteen minutes on foot. I bounce my leg anxiously as I dart my gaze from my phone to the busy road. The minutes are passing quickly and I can’t seem to slow time down.

“Five o’clock traffic, right?” The driver laughs, tapping the wheel to the song that’s playing on the radio.

My brows are furrowed and I’m biting my lip, hard. Ignoring whatever the man at the front said when my thoughts become deafening.

Shit. I have no choice.

It’s already four-thirty, so I grip the door handle and apologize profusely.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll pay you for the full thing! Bye!” I exclaim, opening the door. I grab my bag and throw it over my body, cross-bodying it. I look down to my sneakers that I swapped out before I left for work, thanking God I didn’t forget my usual routine. New York is the most walk-able, non-walk-able city to ever exist. You always need a pair of these if you are gonna go anywhere. Or, suffer for the intention of beauty. That, I’ve done plenty.

Anyway, I start running. Full on sprinting. I know starting off with such speed will only tire myself out. But, I need to get there on time. I can’t have them thinking I’m bailing on them. As I pass the confused, scared people I grow to be beyond shame at this point.

I throw my hands over my breasts to keep them still, again, beyond shame. I pass by stores, outlets, apartments, and this run is probably the most cardio I’ve done since my idol days. I can see the entrance of the hotel inching closer, yet I have so many crosswalks I still need to pass.

One by one I wait every single time. Safety first?

I’m a heavy-breathing, sweaty-hairline mess by the time I’ve met with the last crosswalk. There’s already paparazzi hiding behind cars and bushes, ready to sneakily snapshot the moment those boys leave the building.

I have to think fast as I approach the hotel, not knowing how I could possibly hide my face. I could not, in any shape or form, have my face back in the tabloids connected to BTS’s name. There’s already enough of that in the news now, considering the release of their book.

I did snoop around during my lunch break, seeing old photos that somehow leaked. Ones where I know staff took them, which is disappointing knowing they probably turned those in just for a couple hundred bucks. It’s nothing defaming to the boys or me, just private moments I wish had stayed private.

So, my name is already circulating around. I dig in my bag for an old face mask that’s been there for months, probably. I throw it on my face and release my hair from my ponytail, attempting to hide as much of my features as I can.

I take a deep breath as I begin the pathway to the hotel doors. I attempt to look as casual as I can, passing the paparazzi as a regular city-goer. Just a very rich woman who is always staying at this hotel, nothing to see. Nothing to notice.

I reach my hand for the door handle until it bursts open, knocking me to the ground suddenly. Namjoon stands with luggage in hand, stunned and apologizing profusely before really understanding what just happened. I too am confused, rubbing my butt in pain and the brightest red shading my cheeks. I just got knocked down in front of all these paparazzi, and as I see Jimin my eyes widen when he shouts loudly, “KANAKO! NAMJOON, YOU IDIOT!”

The blonde, leather-jacketed man drops his suitcase to run to my rescue, helping me from the ground. The snapshots of cameras become faster, flashier, seeing the very popular star assisting the woman they now know as Kanako Fujishima.

The retired, scandalous idol.

Jungkook and Yoongi are close behind, witnessing the sight of my disheveled state.

JK splits through Joon and Jimin, “Kanako, we thought you couldn’t make it!” He exclaims, hugging me even with the prowling eyes.

I hold him firmly, warmly. Feeling relief knowing I could still see them off.

“I jumped out of my Uber to be here if that tells you anything. I had to see you guys before you left, you know.” I smile through my teeth as I speak.

Yoongi peers from Jungkook's broad shoulders in a baggy white button-up, paired with even baggier black sweats. He looks amazing even with such little effort, and I couldn’t be happier to see his face.

The events of last night rush past the walls of my mind, having to push them down if I was ever wanting to speak normally again. I attempt to not become a stuttering mess, feeling like a nervous mess with a school crush.

“Hi Yoon.” We share a breathy laugh before he pulls me in his arms as well.

“You’ve never called me that before.” He says, his embrace making all of my surroundings suddenly melt into the back of my mind.

The cameras haven’t halted their flashing and I try not to picture the headlines in my head when I hear them, overlapping one another.

He pulls away from me, taking a risky hand to caress my face. Pulling the face mask off my face, he tucks it into his pocket.

“Yoongi, there’s people–”

“I know.”

He eyes my lips in a swift move before dipping his head to kiss me. His cupid bow lines perfectly with mine, moving in a soft flow. It’s nothing ostentatious by any means, not even heated. It’s short and enough to say something, but not shout it.

I’m the first to break the kiss in an anxiety-induced cloud, looking at him, my expression completely bewildered.

“So…” I say in one breath, pursing my mouth in an even line. I look around to the gawking pedestrians and then to Yoongi, who’s enamored…by me? He has an uncomplicated gleam in his eyes that isn’t fading. His hand drops to his side, head nodding to the paparazzi.

“They don’t matter to me, just you. I love you, Kanako.” He states, his sure gaze pressing into my unraveled smile.

“I love you. I love you,” I repeat, giving him one last kiss before grabbing his suitcase to hand to him.

He accepts it hesitantly, brushing our hands together. The boys taking that as the cue to start moving into the car. They all give me more hugs, more temporary good-byes as they step inside the shiny, black vehicle.

It’s bittersweet, seeing them getting ready to leave. Bitter because I can’t wait to see them, him, again.

But sweet because I know I will see them again. I’m strong enough now. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I’ll be on the next flight to Seoul as soon as I’m able to. And who knows? Maybe I’ll gain the courage to relocate. Perhaps Keiko and I can use a change of scenery. She’s never been to South Korea, and I know with her and the boys by my side, I’ll soothe into it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m too excited not to.

Before Yoongi enters the car he turns to me, giving me a gummy smile that buzzes through my body instantaneously.

“I’ll see you back home.” He says.

click here to start from the beginning!

an: holy shit you guys. this has been so healing and so fun for me to write this past month. seeing this community of people enjoy my writing has been so extremely eye-opening and crazy since this has always been a passion of mine! thank you, thank you, thank you for tuning into to all chapters of cool about it! and to readers who are joining after it’s all finished, thank you too for keeping it alive!

im thinking about doing little drabbles or one-shots here and there (of all the members bc ot7) as well so stay tuned for that!

don’t get sick of me just yet!

love you all. thank you.

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taleasnewastime · 4 years ago

Text

Teddy bear

Jimin x reader genre: fluff word count: 670

a/n: Just a short little drabble of Jimin hating on your childhood teddy. It’s all soft and fluffy and I hope you enjoy.

“Honestly, that thing has to go.”

“What?”

Jimin stands over you in just a pair of boxers, arms crossed over his chest, his best scowl on his face. You lie, head poking out of the covers of your bed, with your best innocent face on, eyes wide as if you have no idea what he is talking about.

“I am not sleeping in a bed with that,” Jimin huffs lightly.

“That’s no way to talk about your girlfriend,” you joke and see how hard he tries to not crack a smile, his lip wobbling slightly from effort. Honestly, you’re impressed he manages to suppress it, normally he is all smiles.

“No. Seriously, if you continue to sleep with that thing I’m not sleeping here anymore,” you can hear the seriousness in his tone and you roll your eyes.

“This thing has a name,” you squish the teddy closer to your body.

“No monster that looks like that has a name. And, you know what? I’ve changed my mind. I don’t just want it gone from the bed, I want it gone from the room and that might soon be upped to the flat. I am not waking up to that thing murdering me in the night,” Jimin says.

“Aw don’t be like that. What has Buttons ever done to you?” You make your voice go higher in pitch and wiggle the teddy in your arms so that it’s eyes, or eye, are looking at him.

“Buttons can fuck off,” Jimin deadpans and you finally break, a laugh escaping your lips. “How and why do you still even have that thing? Who even gave it to you in the first place? Whoever it was must have hated you.”

“I think he’s cute,” you defend your bear, lifting him high in the air above your head so he stares down at you.

Honestly, Jimin was right, he had seen better days and didn’t look particularly pretty. One of his eyes had fallen off, the other hung loosely from its socket. His mouth more resembled a scowl than a smile and that coupled with his eyes had quite the effect. His fur was now mottled from age, worn bare in some areas. And there were only 2 odd buttons on his chest where he originally got his name. But he was your childhood teddy and you still loved him. Plus when you found out how creeped out Jimin was by him you couldn’t help but tease him a bit.

“He didn’t always look like this,” you continue to defend your bear, pulling him back down into your arms so you can look at Jimin, who still refuses to enter the bed.

“So you’re the monster? What did you used to do to him? How badly did you mistreat him that he now looks like this?” Jimin says, humour finally seeping into his voice.

You pout at him, slightly offended by his statement. Releasing a small huff, you roll to the edge of the bed and lightly throw Buttons so that he lands on the chair in your room. Turning back around you look to see Jimin is still unmoved.

“Happy?” You start to pull back the covers so that he can more easily slip in.

“He’s staring at me,” Jimins eyes are on Buttons and you chuckle.

Rolling this time towards him you reach up to grab his hand. Tugging it gently you try to coax him into the bed.

“I promise I’ll protect you,” you say, still tugging his hand.

Jimins eyes go from Buttons to you. Finally a proper smile breaks out on his face. It’s small, but there is a fondness in it, love burning behind his eyes. He gives into your gentle tugs, allowing you to pull him down onto the bed. Pulling the covers over the both of you, you snuggle into his side.

“He won’t hurt you, I promise,” you whisper into his skin.

“Good. He’s your monster after all,” he says before pressing his lips to your temple.

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arctickat2400 · 3 years ago

Text

Love Reunited - Part 3 <> Sebastian Stan

Note: Please don't judge. This one may be a bit cheesy and on the cringe side, but I write about the things I want to happen to me, and in this case how I would want to be taken care of. So, please no judgement on writing style or anything. Enjoy!

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon from school. Be good for Grammy, okay?” Sebastian requested as he knelt down in front of his daughter, hands on her waist.

For the past few months, Sebastian has been taking a few days to check on Y/N. Bring her things like food and painkillers and such. She’s been having a hard time lately as she got further into her pregnancy. And ever since the day she came into his cafe, he knew he had to be there for her; he wanted to be there for her. Most days, Sebastian would take time during the day when he had a break to see Y/N. After he picked Grace up from school, he’d take her with him to see Y/N in the afternoon after closing time, per Y/N’s request. They’ve become so close, it amazes Sebastian, but he couldn’t be happier.

“Okay, Daddy. I love you. Say hi to Y/N for me.” Grace admitted, stepping between his legs and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. I will. And I’ll ask her when she wants to see you. I know you’ve been dying to see her again.” Sebastian said with a smile, pulling back and tickling Grace’s sides. She squealed in laughter, making Sebastian’s smile grow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 2, alright?” Grace was a smart little girl. With all the time she and Sebastian had together, he’s always had the time to teach her the basics. Grace could tell time, she could speak properly, she was polite. Sebastian didn’t take her childhood away. She had friends she would hang out with and tell her dad about. Even though it’s only been Sebastian and Grace her five years of life, he’s happy she was able to find friends as quickly as she did. Her best friend was actually the daughter of his best friend, Chris.

Grace nodded as Sebastian kissed her forehead. She turned, taking her grandma’s hand. Sebastian let out a quiet, “Thanks, mom,” before they left the cafe. It was just about 7 pm, closing time, when Sebastian went upstairs to the bookstore, balancing the money from the cash register and transferring it to the money box. He went downstairs to turn the sign on the cafe door from open to closed before taking care of the money from the cafe register and putting it in the money box. He stored it in his apartment, making sure he had his phone, wallet and keys before locking up the bookstore and making his way downstairs.

Sebastian put together a small snack for Y/N, making her a black tea in a coffee cup and putting two brownies in a small box. Locking up the display and turning off all the machines and shutting off the lights, Sebastian made his way outside, locking the door and jumped in his car.

About 7:30, the time he would usually be traveling to Y/N’s on those few days each week, he drove the 5 minutes to her apartment, parking on the curbside. He took her snack and made his way up the stairs, knocking on the door.

It rarely took Y/N more than a minute to get to the door. Sebastian understood that it took her longer, the slower she got with the bigger she got. He chuckled at the thought, but he became worried when he knocked once more and she still didn’t come. She wasn’t a heavy sleeper, he knew that much. He would come around sometimes and she’d been taking a nap, which he’d severely apologize for after he found out, causing her to laugh and tell him it’s okay. But, now, he was worried.

Just then, Sebastian’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. Stacking her tea on top of the box, he pulled out his phone to see Y/N’s name, a text sent from her. Opening it, it said:

Your Nickname: Key is under the dog statue. Come on in.

He did as she said, but was still concerned because she would always come to the door to greet him, or them when Grace came along. She’d open the door, she’d usher him inside as he gave her a kiss on either the forehead, cheek or lips.

Sebastian picked up the key, unlocked the door, and walked in after hiding the key again. Shutting the door behind him, “Y/N?” He questioned quietly, just in case she was sleeping, having fallen back asleep after texting him. He heard voices coming from the living room, and sighed in relief when he saw the tv on playing FRIENDS quietly. Taking his shoes off by the door, he looked over to see Y/N curled up on the couch in only a thin cropped sweater and a pair of boy shorts underwear. Y/N was always confident in her body for the most part, thanks to Sebastian. Neither of them minded seeing the other in minimal clothing. Sebastian thought Y/N was the most beautiful girl out there, no matter how she looked or what she wore.

“Hey, baby doll,” Sebastian smiled in a hushed tone as he set down her snack on the coffee table. Their eyes met as Sebastian took his jacket off, leaving him in a black T-shirt with dark jeans. She smiled at him as he knelt down by her head, running his fingers through her hair.

Sebastian placed a kiss to her forehead before asking, “You doing okay? I got worried when you didn’t answer the door.” He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t notice the way her eyes drooped heavily, trying with the utmost effort to stay open.

“Sorry. I’m just really tired. My legs aren’t working like they used to.” Y/N gave him a weak smile as he brushed his thumb over her cheek, smiling in understanding. “I didn’t wake you again, did I?” Sebastian hated that he had to use the word ‘again’. All he wanted to do was see his girlfriend and take care of her. But, by doing that, most of the time meant waking her from a sleep that’s already difficult to find.

But, Y/N just shook her head no. “She won’t let me sleep either, no matter how tired we both are.” Y/N mentioned, setting her hand on her belly.

Sebastian reminisced for a moment back to the day they found out Y/N was having a girl. She had wanted him to go with her, be there with her when she found out. Y/N had told him that she wanted him to be there for everything, if that’s also what he wanted. He couldn’t say no to that.

“I’m sorry, doll. I wish I could do something to help,” Sebastian vowed as he guided his hand down Y/N’s side and stopped at her waist, rubbing over her belly with his thumb. “Can I do something for you? Get you anything?” He gave a sincere, but small smile.

“Anything would do, honestly,” Y/N sighed, letting him take care of her the way he thought would be best, the way he wanted to. She loved that he wanted to take care of her. It made her feel loved. Especially when she was too tired to do anything herself, he was there to help.

Sebastian thought for a minute, his fingers carding through Y/N’s hair as he watched her eyes fall closed. He knew she wasn’t asleep, she was just trying to find it, hoping it would come to her soon enough. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he stood up, took the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Y/N’s shivering body. She always had the A/C on below 70, explaining that it’s easier to get warm in the cold than it is to get cold in the heat. Sebastian loved listening to her theories.

Sebastian took the tea and brownies into the kitchen, placing them in the fridge to be heated up later when Y/N was ready to have them. He went into her room to find her favorite lotion and grab her teddy bear, the adorable child she is. He met her back in the living room, tucked her bear under her arm as she snuggled it close. Kissing her nose, he settled himself on the couch beside her, lifting her legs and settling them on his. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, turning the tv volume down so Y/N has a better chance of falling asleep.

Sebastian began rubbing Y/N's feet with her lotion. He would always do things like that to help her. He’d rub her back to help her bear through the pain she’s been experiencing, he’d rub lotion on her belly to help with the forming of stretch marks. He would make up a bath for her to calm her nerves and aching pains. He’d do anything she asked of him without a second thought because Sebastian loved Y/N too much to let her go through all of this alone.

As he pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot, he heard her sweet voice over the tv and his concentration. “Seba?” Y/N asked.

Sebastian smiled as he turned his head to lock blue eyes with hers. “Yes, my love?”

He never failed to make her go red at his nicknames for her. “Can you stay the night? I don’t wanna be alone.” Y/N requested quietly, and Sebastian refused to say no.

“Of course, baby girl.” Sebastian smiled and Y/N moaned in content as he continued to massage her feet and ankles.

Almost an hour and a half later, his hands were dry and rough, but he would sacrifice anything for his girls, no matter how big or small. It was about midnight when Sebastian noticed that Y/N’s soft, labored breaths had ceased. She had fallen asleep around 10, and he was glad, too, that she was able to get that much sleep with him there. Y/N had admitted to him one night that she slept better in his presence, having him there calmed her.

Sebastian had been laying there with her legs in his lap, stroking them up and down for the past hour or so. He wanted to stay up in case she needed something. Later, if she fell asleep again, then he’d fall asleep, too, in order to regain his energy for the next day.

As of while Y/N slept, Sebastian focused his mind on watching Friends, keeping his eye on Y/N to make sure she was okay. Every now and then, Sebastian would snake his hand up under the blanket and place his hand on Y/N’s stomach. She loved when he did that, it soothed her. He was all she had and she was happy that he wanted to make himself known to Y/N’s unborn daughter.

Sebastian chuckled as he felt Y/N’s toes curl against his arm. He looked over at her to see her stretching as much as she could. She let out a deep breath as she took her arm out from under the blanket and laid it on top of her, reaching out towards Sebastian.

He locked his hand with hers, letting her play with his fingers like she loved to do.

“Hey, sleep well?” Sebastian smiled, relishing in the feeling of her skin against his. She nodded as he brushed his other hand over her leg.

“Seba, we need food.” Is all Y/N said, making Sebastian laugh softly.

“Alright. Let me guess - brownies and black tea? Am I right?” He smiled, gazing over at her with an adoring look.

“How’d you know?” Y/N giggled, making his smile grow bigger.

“Let me go heat those up for you, sweetheart.” Sebastian offered as he stood up from the couch. He was just about to walk out of the room into the kitchen before he turned at Y/N’s voice.

“Wait, Seba! I need help,” Y/N pleaded, holding out her hands to him to help her up. He chuckled as he walked back to her, firmly gripping her hands in his and lifting her up off the couch. It’s been harder for her to get up lately, especially when he’s not there to help her. But, when Sebastian helps her, he makes it seem effortless.

Y/N, after balancing on her feet, made her way to the bathroom as Sebastian made his way to the kitchen. He took out the coffee cup and the brownies from the fridge before placing the tea in the microwave. He set the two brownies on a plate and waited for the timer to go off. He leaned against the island counter, silently watching through the glass kitchen windows as Y/N made her way back into the living room.

Sebastian always kept an eye on her, made sure she didn’t fall, didn’t need help or that nothing bad happened to her. He watched as she fell back onto the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. He watched as she placed her hands on her belly and he heard her soft voice as she talked to her unborn child. He switched out the tea for the brownies in the microwave and sneakily floated back into the living room.

He came up behind Y/N, bent down over the back of the couch and placed his hands on the sides of her belly and laid his head on her shoulder. He chuckled as he felt her jump slightly. Pregnancy brain has decreased her level of focus when it came to her surroundings. But, there was no danger here. It was just her sweet, loving Sebastian.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Sebastian whispered into Y/N’s ear as he brushed his thumbs over her belly.

“Have I ever told you that you can’t sneak up on me like that?” Y/N answered back with a smile, making Sebastian laugh lightly.

“I’m sorry, doll. It’s just too easy.” They both giggled at that. “How’re you feeling?” Sebastian, then, asked. He would ask that at random times, just to make sure, especially when he knows he hasn’t asked in a while.

“I’m okay. Starving, actually.” This made Sebastian laugh out, knowing she was subtly trying to get him to get her food.

“I’ll get your food right away, my love. I know how my girl can get when she’s hungry.” Sebastian joked as he stood up and started walking back to the kitchen, though not before Y/N pulled him back down and pressed her lips to his.

Coming back with her tea and brownies, Sebastian set Y/N's tea on the side table so she could reach. He waited as Y/N repositioned herself, turning so her legs were pulled up beneath her as she leaned back into the corner of the couch. He handed her the plate of brownies before settling himself beside her.

“Hmmm… so good,” Y/N moaned as she was already halfway through her first brownie. Neither of them knew why, but it was at these moments that Sebastian found Katie extra adorable.

After watching another episode of Friends while Y/N ate and Sebastian listened to her laugh about random things happening in her favorite show, he noticed she became quiet. He glanced at her to see a blank stare towards the tv as she leaned her head against her hand on the couch cushions. She could just be tired, Sebastian thought. But, something told him it was something more than that. It wasn’t until he heard her sniffle that he saw the red rimming her eyes.

“Baby, are you okay?” Sebastian asked, concerned.

“Yeah, of course.” Y/N perked up, catching his eye, and tried to brush off the topic, focusing back on the tv.

“Y/N,” is all Sebastian said as they locked eyes again, and Y/N knew the look in his eyes. The one that said, “You can’t fool me, Y/N. I know you too well to know that somethings wrong.” With that Y/N sighed, and Sebastian turned himself towards her, ready for the venting he knew was to come.

“It’s just…” Y/N paused, trying to find the right words as she stared down at her hands in her lap now. “I feel like I’m being too needy.” Sebastian was already shaking his head, disagreeing with her. He would never think she’s being too needy. She didn’t notice the gesture though as he let her continue.

“I just feel like I’m asking too much of you. You have a daughter and a business to take care of. You were doing so well before I came back and brought more stress into your life. Now, I feel like since I always want you here, you feel the need to be here. And you always have to send Grace to your mom’s which I feel awful for because I know she’s busy even without having Grace there. And I feel like I’m taking you away from your daughter. And I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just being a burden. I should be able to take care of myself, but my body won’t let me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks now. “I’m in so much pain because I’m getting so big, and I still don’t know how you can stay with me when I look like this, and...” But, Y/N couldn’t go on.

Sebastian was almost glad she stopped because he couldn’t bear to hear anymore. Everything she said never once came to his mind. He brought her into his arms, lifting her onto his lap as he cradled her in his arms. She cried into his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, trying to calm her down. Once her cries had quieted down, he pulled away slightly, letting her slip down between his legs. He placed his hands on either side of her face so she’d look him in the eyes.

“Y/N, my love, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” He started sternly. “You have never been, and will never be, a burden. It was my choice to help you because I love you, so much.” He paused, realizing what he just said once Y/N’s eyes widened. He’s never said it out loud to her before. But he didn’t regret the words he just confessed.

“Y-you… love me?” Is all Y/N could get out.

“I do, Y/N. I really do. More than anything else and I have ever since I first met you. Before you came home, I was still not in my right mind and I hadn’t been since you left all those years ago. And when you walked into my shop that day, my world turned upside down just as it did when you walked into my life the first day we met.” Sebastian added as Y/N’s hand flew up to his neck, his on her waist as they leaned in for a passionate kiss.

“I love you, too, Seba.” Y/N confessed after pulling away just a mere centimeter. Sebastian chuckled softly at her words, before pulling her back in for another kiss.

“I want to be here as much as you want me to be here. You are never too needy, Y/N, because I am without a doubt happy to get you anything you need to make your life easier. I know this is hard, I know the pain can be unbearable at times. But that’s why I’m here. So I can help the girl I love.” Sebastian continued as he held Y/N in place in front of him.

“And, as for Grace, and my mom, please, don’t you worry, my love. My mom has been helping me with Grace since she was born. She’s taking less shifts now at work to help out with Grace. My mom is always happy to take Grace for a little while. I’ve talked to Grace about what’s going on, and they both understand.” Y/N interrupted this time.

“But, you’re with me so much now when you’re not working. You barely get to spend time with Grace, and I feel so bad about that, ‘cos it’s only ever been you and her, and…” Y/N mumbled on.

“Y/N, stop, please,” Sebastian demanded, but softly. He knew how sensitive she could be. He set his hand on her cheek, the other on her waist. “Grace knows what’s going on. I’ve talked to her about everything and she understands. Please, don’t worry about that. I am here for you, we are all here for you, Y/N. There’s no reason to stress about nothing. And, Y/N, nothing hurts me more than when you put yourself down about your insecurities. I love you and you are so beautiful. I can’t stress that enough. That’s why I keep telling you and it never loses its meaning. I don’t care what you look like or what you wear or anything. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. Even though you can’t see your feet, even when you’re 9 months pregnant, you will never fail to take my breath away, my gorgeous girl.” Sebastian wiped away some of Y/N’s tears as she let out a short laugh, though he knew more tears would come. He tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear as he brushed his thumb across her cheek.

“Please, baby, don’t put yourself down. You have taken such great care of yourself over all these years when I couldn’t be there to help. And now, I am and I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.” Sebastian finished, and Y/N let out a strangled sob as he pulled her into his arms.

“I love you so much, Seba. You can’t even imagine how thankful I am for you.” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder.

“I love you, too, baby girl. Always.” Sebastian admitted as he placed a kiss to her forehead. It felt a bit warm to him, despite her recent breakdown.

“Sweetheart, you feeling okay? Your head feels a bit warm.” Sebastian mentioned, still holding her against his chest.

“Yeah, just a little lightheaded from all the crying, I guess.” She sniffled against him.

“Well, let’s get you to bed. Maybe we can get you a few more hours of sleep.” Y/N just nodded as she wrapped her arms around Sebastian’s neck. He slid his arms under her legs and behind her back as he lifted her up.

“Alexa, turn off the tv.” Sebastian ordered the AI. The tv turned off as Sebastian carried you through the loft to turn off some lights before traveling upstairs to your room. Y/N’s eyes closed as she slowly fell asleep in Sebastian’s arms. He placed her carefully on her bed, taking her sweater off to make her more comfortable as he tucked her in. He was going to settle in the armchair beside Y/N’s bed when she reached out and caught his wrist. He spun around and locked eyes with her innocent, pleading ones.

“Cuddle with me.” There was no way he could say no to those puppy dog eyes. He chuckled, nodding, as he removed his shirt, draping it over the chair before climbing into bed with his girlfriend. He made sure she was comfortable on her side as she hugged her body pillow. He wrapped his arms around her, setting his hand on her belly to soothe the baby so Y/N could sleep.

Sebastian, listening to Y/N’s soft, pur-like snores, kissed the back of her head, whispering, “I’m gonna marry you one day. I hope you know that. I love you so much, Y/N. You have no idea.” He caught a glimpse of the faint smile on your lips as you slept. Sebastian was able to fall asleep, knowing the love of his life laid peacefully beside him.

#sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan imagines #fluff

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narrators-journal · 3 years ago

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Stormy nights

Can you tell I favor Stan x Xeno in dr stone? Because I do lol. That’s why I wanted to write another thing for them. This time I just wanted...some soft for them, and the rp me and a friend have going kinda gave me this idea. I did my best to be respectful and portray Stanley well here, I hope it’s good!

Xeno awoke with a start to a booming clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. So, he sat there for a moment, blinking slowly in the darkness of his room and listening to the steady drum of the rain on the roof as his brain stewed in a mixture of sleep and consciousness. Finally, after a few moments, he turned and squinted at the other side of the bed, grimacing when he found it empty. �� "Stanley? You alright?" he called, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and stumbling his way through the dark room and into the rest of the house, finding his friend and room mate sitting at the kitchen table with an ashtray next to him and a pack of cigarettes damn near gone in, judging from the still smoking butt among the others in the tray and his nearly finished one in his hands, a short amount of time. The NASA scientist sighed at the sight and just sat down beside the ex-soldier, "Are you here right now?" He asked gently, glancing over at the tall man, who glanced back at him as he finished his cigarette and crushed it out, taking a moment before replying, "Yeah, I'm fine, doll, no worries." he assured, but his friend knew from the forced calm in his words and his chain smoking that he wasn't. However, Xeno didn't reply, only leaning against Stan's arm and hooking his own with his, holding the limb against his cheek a bit and feeling the way Stanley's muscles tensed at the next deafening clap of thunder that shook the small house they'd shared ever since he'd been discharged from the military. They sat there in silence for a while, Xeno holding onto his friend's arm as he lit a fresh cigarette and took a long pull of the carcinogenic product and shakily breathed the plume of gray smoke out. Usually, Xeno'd berate and nag his childhood friend for smoking inside, let alone smoking so much, but he understood that it was either let him smoke, or risk him reacting horribly to the next strike of lightning outside of the window or window-rattling force of the next boom of thunder, so he didn't complain. "Hey, I have an idea," he eventually offered, using his other hand to rub up his friend's arm and try to coax some of the tension from his muscles as he continued, "Why don't we go lay on the couch? You can lay on me and smoke, and we can watch tv while I mess with your hair or something relaxing like that," For another moment their eyes met, and Xeno could see the anxiety swimming in the icy depths of his room mate's eyes while he nodded, "Sure, that'd be nice." Stan finally said, his voice a bit quieter, a tad strangled by the panic clawing at his throat. So, Xeno got up, went to the freezer to grab his friend a fresh pack of cigarettes from the carton he kept there, and went to their living room to lay down on the couch and flick the tv on. Stanley was close behind, laying on his back on Xeno's chest, bringing his ashtray as if it were a teddy bear, and getting settled with his friend while the scientist turned on a show the two had watched a few times at this point. It wasn't the first time the two had snuggled up together on the couch, so they didn't take long to find a comfortable set up where Xeno could drape his arms loosely around Stan's shoulders and neck with one leg dangling off of the couch and the other propped against the back cushion so his friend could lay on him, and Stan could have room to have one of his arms across his chest with his cigarette and the other either hanging loosely down or hooked behind him so that it was beneath Xeno. Together, they laid like that as the rain drummed down rhythmically and lightning and thunder crashed outside. Stan half focused on the show, using it as a mindless distraction with Xeno rubbing his shoulders or running his fingers through his silver-blonde hair now and then when he got too tense, or started shaking under overwhelming anxiety. Sometimes, when a particularly loud clap of thunder made the soldier grab onto him, holding his arm or wrist as if it were his last tether to this reality, Xeno'd calmly and gently walk him through grounding techniques, "Touch three things and name three things you see, Stanley," "Hey, tell me the lyrics to your favorite song" "Describe the living room to me detail please, sugar," Finally, every now and then Xeno'd gently instruct the soldier through a breathing technique meant to reset his fight-or-flight response, lessening the anxiety and panic that he could feel building with each bolt of electricity or rumble from outside, "I want you to breath in for four seconds. one, two, three, four. Now hold it for seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, good. Now exhale for eight seconds." Those calm, steady instructions helped keep Stanley from a breakdown, and the feeling of his friend's arms around him brought him a comfort Xeno knew he couldn't express in the moment. Nonetheless, Xeno stayed with his friend, holding him and playing with his hair and doing his best to help the ex-soldier stay at least comfortable through the worst of the anxiety. They stayed like that through the night, cuddled up as the storm raged on outside until morning had trickled in weakly through the thick blanket of clouds. Stan didn't sleep once through the entire storm, and Xeno stayed up with him, watching the show and talking to him while he continued to smoke through another pack of cigarettes before the storm waned and Xeno began to notice the way Stan's icy blue eyes began to dull with exhaustion and drift shut. He at least managed to put out his last smoke before settling down on Xeno's chest and nuzzled into his arm while his other hand threaded through his hair, only staying awake a few more moments tops before his breathing relaxed, his heart slowed back to a calm, constant ba-dump, ba-dump, from the frantic beat it had reached before, and his glacial eyes drifted shut and remained shut. The sight brought a small smile to Xeno's face, and not too long after, he too drifted back off to sleep on the couch.

#stano #dr stone #drst #stan x Xeno #scenario #stanley snyder #Xeno wingfield

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kylosupremeimagines · 4 years ago

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Clyde Logan A-Z Fluff

(Special thanks to @driversmutbucket for helping me with this!)

A = affection (how affectionate are they in day to day life? Do they show affection publicly or keep that more in private?) Pet names, oh god, the amount of pet names that man has for you. At the beginning of your relationship you actually thought he had forgotten your name. Darling, sweetheart, baby, doll, sweetness, sweetie, honey, precious, angel, pumpkin, sweet pea....etc Clyde Logan is one affectionate teddy bear. He is so sweet with you that he gets teased about it by his friends and family- Jimmy often pretends to vomit. In public he makes it know that you are his woman.

B = best memory (what is the best memory they have with you) Even if it’s a little cheesy, one of his best memories would be his first date with you, no matter how long he knew you beforehand. It shows that you have an interest in being more than just friends with him and gives him hope for a future family. He will remember even the smallest of details such as which way your hair is parted.

C = cat or dog person (this is pretty obvious) Dog, he loves their loyalty and unwavering affection, although he doesn’t have one of his own, he would love to have one eventually. It would be comforting to know you had a protector when he was working long nights at the bar.

D = dreams (what do they want to do in life?) It is simple, really. A big family. With you.

E = evenings (how do they spend their evening? So they go out? Do they read?) If he isn’t working, Clyde loves having dinner with you, then snuggling up on the sofa with you and reading. Enjoying the peace and just being with you.

F = first date (what was it like?) He wanted to do something extremely special so he brought you out to a lake, planning a cute little picnic. There wasn’t really anyone else around and he brought your favorite foods, so it was perfect. He even brought some wine, but wouldn’t make you drink it if you’re not a fan or don’t drink alcohol. He manages to kiss you, and stars was it the most loving kiss you could ever share with someone.

G = giggle (what is their laugh like? What makes them laugh?) He’ll laugh at just about any hilarious thing someone does, and certainly shows his teeth in that wide, amazing grin of his. His laugh sounds genuine to his entertainment, coming deep from the chest.

H = hugs (do they like hug? What kind of hugs do the give?) Clyde Logan is a goddamn teddy bear. He gives the best hugs. Warm, firm and enveloping. He loves cuddling you, he could all day. Sometimes he does. He isn’t particularly cuddly with other people, being a bit shy. You know once he has babies of his own he will hardly put them down due to all the cuddles he will be giving.

I = instrument (do they play an instrument?) Considering that he only has one hand, he can’t exactly play any instruments. But if he used to play, it most likely would’ve been an acoustic guitar. Though now he still can sing pretty decently.

J = joy (what brings them joy in life?) Family. It’s all he really needs to be happy in life. He would give every ounce of love to his family to the point some people believe it’s a bit excessive. However he would not care about their opinion as his family and the ability to love them gives him more joy in life than he knows what to do with.

K = kisses (what kind of kisser are they? Shy? Passionate?) Clyde can be quite the mix with his kisses. Usually he will be loving with them, not afraid to show you physical affection. He’ll run his thumb over your cheek as he leans down to deepen it, lips dancing passionately against yours. He loves that one second yet meaningful good morning kiss.

L = love (how do they act when they have a crush) Jimmy once referred to it as “love drunk”. When he met you he was completely distracted, couldn’t think of anything else but you, and he told you as much. He would mess up drinks at work- something he never did, trip over his own feet when he saw you and be unable to form sentences.

“My brother is damn love drunk on ya y/n, it’s like aliens have removed half his brain.” Jimmy Logan

M = memory (what’s their favourite memory?) Over your time together, his favorite will end up being your wedding day. It symbolizes that you truly will spend the rest of your lives together. And it would make one great day. Imagine the sex that night with Clyde 😉

N = no (what is their pet peeve?) Clyde likes to know where you are and that you are safe. He hates it when you don’t let him know your plans, or don’t answer your phone or reply to his messages. He will work himself into a state, thinking the Logan curse has struck again if you don’t get in touch in a timely manner.

O = occupation (what’s their dream job?) To be a father. That’s the ultimate for Clyde. He is happy running Duck Tape, and doesn’t yearn for anything beyond that in his career but being a father? Dream job.

P = parent (what kind of parent would they be?) An absolute bloody pushover. He will spoil his kids rotten, shower them in love and affection and let them know they are goddamn miracles to him. Clyde will be the kind of dad that has your children’s friends wishing he was their dad. Your place will always be filled with your children’s friends, noisy and happy.

Q = questions (do they believe in the super natural? Aliens? Anything along those lines) He isn’t too sure what to believe but considering he’s a firm believer in the so called Logan Family Curse, it’s probably safe to say that he does believe in something. He gave into the old ghost stories his siblings would tell him as a kid and it would scare him shitless. He refuses to deny the existence of some intelligent life out there in space. And the list goes on.

R = romantic (are they romantic during the relationship?) Clyde May doubt how well he can express his love, but sometimes he can do so without even trying. You can see the love in his every action, ever facial expression, every gesture. He will remind you how much he cares and do little things for you. Although sometimes it’s with advice from Mellie, he plans the best dates for you. And man the list goes on.

S = smile (what makes them smile without fail) You. It doesn’t matter if he’s physically with you or you pop into his thoughts, you will make him smile each time without fail. Overall his family will do the same as it’s the most important thing to him.

T = together (how clingy are they? How long do you two spend together per day on average) Clyde adores you beyond belief but he knows how to keep his boundaries. He wants to be around you as often as he can but knows when to back off. It’s not like he can’t handle being away from you as long as he knows that you’re doing alright and are safe.

U = unbearable (what habit do they have that’s unbearable? What habit do you have that they find unbearable) Clyde has the tendency to pay more attention to how others are doing before he checks in with himself. He asks you a lot how you’re doing, sometimes to the point where it’s a few times an hour. It can leave you to worry about him when he’s neglecting himself.

V = videos (do they take lots of videos or photos during your relationship?) Opposes to video, he’s more likely to take photos. Why why put together a whole photo album that you can look back on years down the road and reminisce about your life together with the family?

W = wedding (what was the wedding like?) The wedding would more than likely be out in the woods right by the family’s cabin. All your friends and family would be there, Little Sadie would be the flower girl, and Clyde would be more handsome in that suit than he’s ever been. Overall it would be a great time, and you’d even be able to stay at the cabin for your honeymoon if you wanted. Though, he will feel a little off not having the ring on the traditional finger so you two decided that you too would wear yours on your right ring finger.

X = eXtra (what’s an interesting fact about them that they don’t tell anyone about?) Not that it should be anything for him to be embarrassed about, but he has a huge soft spot for animals. He had a dog he adored in his childhood, and a lot of other pets that came in and out of his family’s lives. He wouldn’t be opposed to having a few animals with you; though he wants to get at least one dog.

Y = yuck (what do they hate? Could be a food, sent, word anything) Other men perving on his woman. RIP them, cause he will go straight up feral on their ass.

Z = zzzz (how heavy of a sleeper are they? How do they sleep? What mood do they wake up in? Really any sleeping headcanons) Clyde is always happy to wake up when you are in his bed. He loves those slow lazy mornings where you cuddle and make love lazily. His sleeping is a bit all over the place. Sometimes he sleeps incredibly heavily, other times restlessly, especially if you aren’t there. He still has occasional PTSD nightmares from his service. Luckily they are becoming less frequent.

#Clyde Logan #Clyde Logan X Reader #Clyde Logan Reader Inserts #Clyde Logan Headcanons #Adam Driver

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deliciouspeachpirate · 4 years ago

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Affectionate Newsies Headcanons Part 3

A/N I hope you guys like this one! Sorry its a bit later than I had planned! Elmer was requested specifically by an anon, so I hope you liked his part my dear! I’m planning on doing one more part after this to finish off the characters I know better, but if you have a favorite or someone else that you want me to do, let me know! Please request anything and everything your heart desires! Have a great day/night!

Elmer: This sunshine baby is like a little puppy. He is always wearing his adorable grin no matter where he is and costumers love him for it. It makes them feel like there is still something good in the world and they always leave feeling better (same goes for his friends) No one, not even Spot Conlon, leaves a conversation with Elmer without a smile. When he notices someone is upset, he doesn't typically take the approach of talking it out with them, rather he does his best to make them laugh by pulling silly stunts like jumping in between the bunkbeds, pranking someone, or making an abundance of puns. He loves to randomly jump on people's backs and make them give him a piggyback ride, so much so that he hardly ever actually walks somewhere when the other boys are around. He is supper bubbly and bright, always excited about one thing or another. He will tell anyone who will listen everything about his day, from what to dreamed about, to the alley cat he saw, to where to went that day, even that he overheard someone talking about how, oh my god, these two people were roommates.

Most of the boys will roll their eyes more or less fondly at him when he keeps jabbering on, Race gets pretty annoyed by it though. Crutchie and JoJo are always happy to listen for however long Elmer wants to go. He likes to lean his head/body against people's shoulders whenever they are all hanging around at Jacobi's or the lodging house. When he gets really tired, he will just lay his head in someone's lap and snuggle up to them. He absolutely loves it when people run their fingers through his hair and that and a big hug is often the quickest way to calm him down after a rough day or a nightmare. This sweetheart tries to build up his friends as much as possible and doesn't join in the constant teasing much. He will tease someone if they have a crush, but not really on anything else because he knows how it feels to always be the butt of the joke. He is one of the people that is most often made fun of, partially because he is not the best seller and because of how sappy he can be at times. He knows that the boys don't really mean anything by it and they are just messing around, but sometimes it hurts him more than he likes to admit and he doesn't like to open up to people about his mental health. He feels like its his duty to make sure everyone else is smiling and happy all the time, so he feels like he can't have bad days. When he does get really upset, he likes to walk down to the Brooklyn Bridge and back before going up to the penthouse to find Crutchie. Elmer really likes to sing, and he is pretty good at it too! He and Race often start up a rousing folk song and attempt to get people to dance with them, especially if the headline was good and people are already in high spirits. Elmer is really good at tap dancing, but he also really likes to grab someone by the arm and just spin around with them until they are laughing to much to keep going. Elmer's love language is both physical affection and words of affirmation. He makes a point of letting people know when he thinks they are good at something or if they deserve recognition. His complements are always really sweet and from the heart.

JoJo: This boy is almost hands down the most affectionate newsie! He is definitely the most openly loving, but only because Jack sometimes tries to either hide it or be more private about it. He always has his arm around someone’s waist and is pulling them close to his side. He gives nearly everyone a hug every time he sees them, when they first wake up, at the circulation gate, if they bump into each other while selling, when they all get to Jacobi’s, and to tell them goodnight. JoJo is a huge worrier and mother hen. He is constantly doing a head count on the way to the circulation desk and at the end of the day to make sure everyone gets home safe. If someone gets back to the lodging house after curfew, JoJo is nearly always waiting up for them (along with Jack) ready to give them a relived hug before checking over them to make sure they are okay. He has a really hard time getting to sleep if someone doesn’t get home that night. Jack has had to carry him up to bed several times when he has fallen asleep waiting. Heaven forbid someone comes home really late and injured, because poor JoJo will cry. He can’t stand to see his friends hurt at all. He quickly pulls himself together though so that he can help patch them up/sit with them while someone else (typically Jack or Specs) takes care of them. If someone has to get a cut disinfected or have something really painful done, he always holds their hands so that they can squeeze them if it hurts too much. His hatred of his friends hurting of course extends to their emotional state, and he is pretty in tune to people’s emotions (which is also helpful for selling and surviving on the streets). He can almost always tell as soon as someone starts to be a bit down. If it is someone he isn’t really close to, or has someone else who is very close to them (such as Albert or Jack), then he will let that person know that *insert newsies here* is down and needs cheering up. When he is the one to comfort someone, he is very gentle but doesn’t beat around the bush. He knows when someone is lying and he will call them out on it. If he can tell someone really doesn’t want to talk about it he will wait for them to come to him or make sure that they do talk to someone. He is very big on hugs when someone is upset and will sit quietly holding another newsie for as long as they need, not pulling away at all until they do. He gently talks through whatever is going on with them and makes sure to check in with them later to make sure things are getting better. When he hasn’t seen someone for a while, he’s extra happy to see them, or he was really worried for them JoJo will often give his friends a quick peck on the cheek or hair (this boy is tall just saying). He tells his friends that he loves them 24/7. JoJo is absolutely the friend who puts their cold hands on people’s necks, and he takes Great Joy in it.

Specs: Specs isn't a super affectionate guy, but he still likes it quite a lot. He tries to be pretty lowkey about his affection, the most he shows is normally just having his arm around someone's shoulder/neck when they are all hanging out. That being said, it is pretty uncommon for him not to have an arm on someone. Specs is pretty quiet in general, preferring to stay to the side and watch the boys roughhouse with a smile, but he can be convinced to join in the fun! He is often in the thick of the action whenever someone's belongings are stolen (looking at you Race and Albert), and often joins in if there is some type of wrestling match going on. He really enjoys wrestling with the littles. He always makes it seem like he puts up a fight, and he makes it a challenge for them to win, but he always lets them pin him in the end. He knows his way around first aid and is very much the "healer" of the lodging house. While people like Jack, Race, and Albert can absolutely clean/wrap a wound or even give stiches in a pinch, Specs is the go to person if someone has a bigger injury like a broken bone or a really serious cut. He is always very calm and level headed when taking care of someone, but he is also extremally firm and gets people to listen to him easily. He is the king of making quiet, witty comments in the background that only a few people actually hear but are always really funny. He is really great at giving advice, and that is the route he normally takes when someone is upset. He finds it hard to talk about emotions and isn't good at putting himself in someone else's shoes or being empathetic (even though he does care) so he sticks to the logical side of things. He knows where everyone's selling spots are, the number of papes they usually buy, their daily habits, the selling strategies that work best for them, and even who some of their regulars are. Jack often goes to him if he forgets someone's spot or is trying to figure out how to find them. Specs' love language is gifts. He is a really good seller, so he is able to leave random stuff on people's beds or slipped into their bags such as a little bit of candy or a small toy they had been eyeing. He doesn't ever want anyone to know its him, and while some of the older boys have made the connection no one really talks about it and the littles are convinced its magic (Crutchie might have had something to do with that part!) His favorite thing ever is to cuddle in bed with Romeo at the end of the day, quietly telling him everything he loves about him. he and Romeo both are hopeless romantics, but Specs always has Romeo blushing like mad.

Spot: This man, this man right here, is a huge (actually very short) teddy bear. Do not let his tough guy attitude fool you, he is the sweetest person ever in private or with his littles. While he has to keep up the act most of the time in order to maintain, nothing will stop him from giving a little newsie a piggyback ride, a hug, help tying their shoe, or playing hopscotch with them and heaven help the person who looks at him wrong while he does it. His littles barely have any clue how feared his name is in other boroughs and Spot takes pride in that. Spot sees it as his duty to be a sort of father figure to all of his littles and he does everything in his power to give them something every holiday so that they can have an almost normal childhood. He loves it when his littles come to him for snuggles after a long day and can often be found at the center of a dog pile of tiny children. Hotshot likes to raise he eyebrows and smirk at him then, but never actually says anything. Spot always puts his littles to bed with a hug and kiss to the head, often telling them a story while they fall asleep. If one of them has a nightmare he typically sits with them and runs his fingers through their hair as he softly hums or whispers a story from his day. Spot would never hesitate to go without food or a bed if it meant his littles could have it. He would give his life for them in a heartbeat. Spot never shows affection to the older newsies though. They might get a nod to recognize when they've done something well but that's about it. He will clap Hotshot on the back every now and then. Spot is absolutely head over heals in love with Race and really wants Race to know it. Spot holds his hand whenever he can, slips into an alleyway or under the docks to steal a heated kiss, and can't ever take his eyes off Race. On a normal day when Race comes over to Brooklyn and they can go up to Spot's tiny room in private, the first thing Spot does when the door closes is pull Race into a tight hug. resting his head on his boyfriend's chest and letting all the tension fall away as Race puts his chin on top of his head. The two of them typically stay there for a few minutes in silence. Race kissing Spot's head a few times, before doing anything else. If its been a particularly stressful day or they haven't seen each other in a while, Spot skips the hug and pushes Race against the wall in a desperate, heated kiss, the second he can. Those days normally turn steamy pretty fast. When they don't though, Spot wants nothing more than to just lay on his bed and cuddle with his perfect boyfriend while they tell each other about their days.

#newsies #newsies headcanons #affectionate newsies headcanons #elmer #Specs #jojo #spot conlon #sorry this was a bit late!#requested

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shotgun--rider · 5 years ago

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Fake It Till You Make It - Three

A Sam x Reader Series

PART THREE

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3900

Warnings: plus size! Reader, fatphobic & diet comments, Y/N’s family are demons, allusions to drug use, cuddly Sam

A/N: We’re getting somewhere! Also, Tom the baker is based on a grocery store cashier from my childhood. She was about seventy and would always tell my mom she remembered when my mom was pregnant with me, and then comment that I was growing so fast and when was I getting married. The kicker was that my mom didn’t start shopping at that grocery store until after I was born. Shout out to Rosie.

In the cold light of day, waking up on the bedroom floor with a Sam Winchester-shaped octopus wrapped around you was a lot more panic-inducing than you’d expected. Then again, you’d somehow gone from one fairly innocent arm slung across your waist to being wrapped up and tucked against his chest, legs tangled up and Sam’s face mostly pressed into your neck.

You wondered briefly if he had enough room to breathe, immediately snapping at yourself that that was hardly the most pressing issue here. Your very fake boyfriend was using you as a human teddy bear and you had no idea how to escape, not without waking him. And waking Sam was very much not an option right now. As long as you somehow got out of this without his knowledge, you wouldn’t have to wade through the awkwardness or hear him try to politely tell you it meant nothing. You wouldn��t have to see the look on his face when he realized he’d snuggled himself up to--well, to someone like you. You’d heard it all before, of course, but hearing it from Sam would be infinitely worse.

Cursing silently to yourself, you glanced down at Sam to ascertain how deeply he seemed to be sleeping, your entire body tensing when you were met with one sleepy hazel eye already blinking at you. “Hi,” Sam mumbled into your hair, like this was completely normal.

“Hi,” you managed to squeak back, kicking yourself for not moving when you’d woken up in the middle of the night. This was what you got for thinking with the part of your brain that seemed to exist purely to drool over Sam friggin Winchester.

He seemed to suddenly notice how stiffly you were holding yourself, and raised his head to look at you, looking entirely non-threatening and far too sweet with his fluffed-up hair and the crease of the sheet you’d been sleeping on pressed into his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you returned dumbly, caught somewhere between get out get away run away now and continuing to stare at his face. “I don’t know, could you just...um...let...go?” you fumbled through, looking pointedly down at his arms banded around your stomach.

Sam looked like he was still half asleep, following your gaze in confusion for a moment before hastily pulling his arms away from you. “Sorry,”

You were scrambling up the second he let go, beating a hasty retreat to the bathroom without sparing a look for the man still sprawled out on the floor, scolding yourself for your idiocy the whole way. You went through getting ready almost angrily, berating yourself for getting into a situation that taunted you with what you couldn’t have and embarrassed you in the process. Still with the toothbrush clamped in your mouth, you grabbed your phone and shot off a text to Charlie: Who TF thought this was a good idea????

Her response was almost immediate. Good morning to you too.

You: Char I’m serious. Should have just brought you and said I was a flaming lesbian.

Charlie: Except for that you’re still totally into Sam

You: Not. Helping.

Charlie: You could always just tell him that.

You didn’t bother giving her a response, rolling your eyes in the mirror and putting your phone back down. Charlie had always been that way, relentlessly urging you to go for whatever it was, eternally confident that it would work out in your favor. Experience had told you it usually didn’t. And you didn’t even need past experience to know how “fat girl asks out the hot guy” ended.

Giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you steeled yourself to walk back out of the bathroom. The best option, of course, was just to ignore the morning’s situation, which you imagined Sam would be equally on board with. After all, it had to be at least a little awkward for him too, waking up curled around someone he thought of as basically family. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

Sam was already dressed when you reentered the bedroom, and you spared a second to firmly remind yourself that nothing productive would come out of you staring at his ass in a pair of jeans. He spun as soon as he heard the door open, a faint blush of color still on his cheeks. “Hey, Y/N, I--”

“So I need to go pick up a cake today,” you blurted before he could finish, “and flowers. Is it cool if we use your car?”

Sam stared at you uncomprehendingly for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing up. “What? I didn’t--yeah. Okay. Do you want me to come?”

Somehow you’d made him look like a kicked puppy and this was not the morning you’d been aiming for. “Unless you’d rather stay here,” you arched an eyebrow dryly, trying for humor. “Get stared at by my family like a zoo animal,”

Sam’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he just shrugged. “I’ll come if you want,”

“Okay,” you returned briskly, using the excuse of grabbing your wallet to break up the sudden tension in the room and give you something to do.

The two of you made it downstairs without any major incidents, hastily skirting past the room where your Aunt Abaddon could be heard shrieking angrily, and you exhaled in relief when you finally made it out to where Sam’s car was parked on the driveway. He immediately went around to the passenger’s side, while you paused in front of the grill. “You don’t want to drive?”

He shrugged easily. “You know the area better than I do,”

Somehow, driving his car felt like more of an intrusion than it had when you were just driving up to the estate, but you sighed and climbed behind the wheel, wondering for the millionth time why anybody had ever thought this was a good idea. Just get over it, Y/N. You forced yourself to smile at Sam. “Florist first? So the cake doesn’t start melting?”

He still had a little bit of the kicked-puppy expression, but he nodded easily, turning to something on his phone while you pulled out of the drive. Way to go, Y/N. Is there anything you can’t fuck up?

The pickup from the florist went off without a hitch, and soon Sam’s backseat was stuffed full of sweet-smelling bouquets wiggling cheerfully with the movement of the car. Say what you would about Ruby, but she did know how to pick a good color scheme.

More pressing than the flowers, though, was the fact that Sam hadn’t said a word to you so far beyond what was necessary to load the bouquets without crushing them. You could feel his eyes on you when you were looking at the road, but he’d stayed silent for the entire drive to the bakery Ruby had ordered from.

You’d half expected to leave him in the car, but he followed you inside dutifully, standing a few steps off to the side while you gave Ruby’s name to the girl at the counter.

“Y/N!”

You winced, turning to greet the baker with a hopefully-genuine smile. He was a friend of your mother’s more than anyone, but he’d always been polite to you, if terribly pushy. “Hi, Tom. I’m just here for Ruby’s cakes,”

The big man looked over your shoulder with a wiggling eyebrow. “And when am I going to make yours, hmm?”

You stared at him, uncomprehending. “Sorry, make my what?”

“Your wedding cake!” he went on cheerfully. “This young man’s yours, isn’t he?”

“Uh,” you turned hastily to look at Sam, who reached for your hand with a swift, reassuring smile.

“Yes,” Sam answered for you, and you briefly considered the merits of stepping on his foot. You didn’t need to sell this lie to everyone in the tri-state area, for god’s sake. On the other hand, that would mean letting go of his hand, which you really didn’t want to do.

“I thought so!” Tom announced triumphantly. “What’s your name, son?”

Sam dropped your hand to reach over the glass display case and shake Tom’s. “Sam Winchester, sir,”

You blinked at the scene unfolding in front of you, wondering if it would be more or less painful to watch a train wreck in action. Of all people, of course you had to run into nosy old Tom. The conversation went on over your head for a few more minutes, with Sam explaining his law career briefly and then doing a lot of nodding and smiling and casually touching you while Tom went rambling on about seeing you as a small child with your mother.

You weren’t even sure what story he was telling, and given the fact that you only came up to Aunt Abaddon’s a few times a year at best, it was entirely possible he was mixing you up with some other mother and child. More than likely, in fact, since you found it hard to believe your mother would have ever taken you somewhere with a lot of calories and sugar.

“You’d better take good care of her, now.”

Sam’s hand slid to hover at your lower back. “Of course.”

You cleared your throat roughly, looking up at Tom. “So, uh, the cake?”

“Yes, yes, of course! Now, you just let your man there take care of this,” Tom slid three enormous boxes toward Sam, “and I’ll get you rung out,”

That would normally be a job for the cashier girl, but no one really ever bothered arguing with Tom. Handing over the car keys to Sam with an apologetic wince, you trailed over to the register, digging out your card in advance in the hope of making this fast.

“I like him,” Tom announced, pulling up the order sheet on a clipboard. He peered at you over the glasses on the end of his nose, studying you. “Why do you look awkward?”

“Uh,” you stuttered eloquently. “Well it’s just that Sam and I, we’re kind of...I mean it hasn’t been all that long, I just--” It’s fake. You wanted to scream. The whole thing is fake and he’s just being nice and I know that and I still want to keep him. Like, forever.

Tom’s eyebrow arched as he slid your card through the reader. “But you do know he’s in love with you, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard. “Oh, I don’t think--I mean, no?”

The old baker frowned, taking his time wrapping the receipt up around your card. “That’s how he looks at you.”

“O...kay,” you chirped out cheerfully. “Thanks Tom, bye Tom,” You scurried out the front door of the shop before he could yell anything else after you, breathing a sigh of relief that was immediately cut off in your chest at the sight of Sam, busy sliding flowers around in the backseat to make room for the cakes. That’s how he looks at you.

As if he’d somehow heard your thoughts, Sam paused in his wedding-themed backseat Tetris puzzle, looking up over the top of the car door at you and lighting up with the brightest smile you thought you’d ever seen on his face. Your heart clenched at the sight of him, and you wondered suddenly what the hell you were going to do when the wedding was over. God, I am so screwed.

“Sorry about Tom,” you said aloud instead, automatically taking one of the boxes out of Sam’s hand while he wrestled the plant he’d been supporting with his hip. “And sorry there’s so much crap in your car.”

Sam just chuckled, fitting the last of the cakes inside and carefully closing the door, lest he behead any of the bouquets. “It’s not a big deal, Y/N,”

“I still feel bad,” You weren’t sure if you were apologizing for commandeering his car or for everything else you’d messed up.

“Well, don’t,” Sam said stoutly, and that was that. He watched you get back into the driver’s seat, your hands on the wheel and a pout on your face. “What?”

Your nose wrinkled, your foot steady on the brake even though you knew you should be driving back. “I just realized how much I don’t want to go back,” you confessed. “I’m just whining, I know…”

Sam reached out, laying his hand on your shoulder easily. “Switch with me,” he said suddenly, making you blink.

“What?”

“Switch with me,” he repeated, his hand vacating your shoulder to hit the button releasing your seatbelt. “Let me drive,”

You had no idea where he was going with this, but you got out of the car anyway, doing some imitation of a two-person Chinese fire drill in Tom’s parking lot. While you settled yourself into the passenger seat, sparing a nervous glance for the flowers in the backseat, Sam pulled out of the lot, looked both ways, and promptly turned down the road leading directly away from your estate. “Sam,” you hissed out. “What are you doing?”

“Not taking you home?”

“Sam, if the cakes melt Ruby will kill me,”

“Well, they’re not ice cream cakes,” Sam said reasonably, reaching for the A/C dial. “There.”

“I haven’t been so concerned about anything since I babysat small children,” you said wryly. “God, I hope nothing dies,”

“They’re cut flowers, Y/N, they’re already dying,” Sam deadpanned, taking another arbitrary turn that put you even further from Abaddon’s.

You tilted your head at him, a laugh escaping you in spite of yourself. “Have you always been like this and I just didn’t notice?”

“You just listen to Dean talking about me,”

That was probably true, you reflected. Dean’s narrative of his brother, while undoubtedly very loving, boiled down to “nerd, lawyer, smart, goes for runs and doesn’t like bacon” most of the time. You didn’t answer immediately, just studying Sam while he drove fairly aimlessly, somehow leaving you lighter than you’d felt all day. “Seriously, though. Where are we going?”

Sam bit his lip briefly, turning to look at you with his forehead wrinkled in concern. “I don’t...know. I might be lost,”

You burst out laughing in the passenger seat, jerking forward so hard that the seatbelt’s automatic stop kicked in, holding you dangling against the belt while tears ran down your face. Sam pulled over on the shoulder, his eyes crinkled up as he watched you laughing at him, and when you finally straightened up and wiped your eyes, he was smiling fondly at you. “Why did I let you drive?” you asked dryly, before turning over your shoulder and glancing back down the road. “Okay, turn around and turn left at the first intersection,”

Sam followed your directions without question, and if you’d have been a bit bolder--and hadn’t had Ruby’s bridal bouquet in the backseat--you might have kept directing him straight to the interstate. As it was, you led him to the little park a few miles behind your aunt’s property, pointing out the window to the creek that was visible from the road.

“Meg fell in when we were kids,” you narrated, smiling vaguely at the memory. “I was twelve, it was Easter, and we got this brilliant idea to sneak away from dinner and go run to the creek. She just kind of tipped over,” you giggled softly as you recalled the day. “It was an early Easter that year, too, so of course the water was freezing.”

You shook your head. “Then she convinced me that Uncle Az was going to kill her for getting wet, so we snuck her upstairs to steal Abaddon’s hair dryer. We thought we could somehow dry her clothes, I don’t know. Anyway, my aunt found us, sitting on her bathroom floor in a puddle of creek water. That was the only time I’ve ever seen her laugh. She always liked Meg more,”

Sam had listened to you with rapt attention, and now he tilted his head in the direction of the park and its little creek. “Show me?”

You couldn’t deny the little rush of happiness up in your chest at the question, and you made a face at him over the top of the car as you both scrambled out. “If you get me wet I really will kill you, Sam Winchester.”

“Noted,” He jogged around the car, hopping over the curb to catch up with you, and stuck close to your side as you both walked through the grass. For a moment, you almost reached out to grab his hand, reminding yourself at the last second that you didn’t need to. No one was watching. You didn’t need to play the charade. And that was all it was, you reminded yourself firmly.

You reached the little creek a few minutes later, Sam sitting down on a boulder while you peeked down the sloped bank into the water. “Is that your favorite memory?” he asked after a moment.

“Probably, yeah,” you shrugged, trying to make it casual. “Most of the rest of them I was either getting blamed for something Ruby did or told to go on a diet.”

Sam frowned at you, reaching his hand out to you. You took it hesitantly, letting him pull you closer to his boulder without really knowing what he was trying to accomplish. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that, Y/N,” he said seriously, tugging on your hand gently again as you realized he was trying to get you to sit down with him.

“Don’t Sam, I’m too heavy,”

“You’re not,” Sam said firmly, pulling your hand just hard enough to unbalance you. You fell with a squeak, landing easily across his legs, and to your immense relief, nobody died. “See?” he smiled at you.

“Okay, you’ve proved your point, Mr. Lawyer,” you feigned a grumpy expression, trying not to give any attention to the butterflies that had decided to take up residence somewhere in your stomach.

“Good,” Sam murmured. He leaned his head briefly on your shoulder, and for just that moment, it felt like you were in your own little bubble, and everything was perfect. And then your phone rang.

“Y/N where the fuck are you? Did they fuck up the order or something?”

“No,” you said hastily. “No, everything’s fine. They’re all safe and sound in Sam’s backseat.” God, you really did sound like you were talking about children. Beside you, Sam was stifling a laugh and you elbowed his chest lightly.

“Okay so then where are you? Gramma wants to see the flowers,” Ruby snapped impatiently. “I figured you’d be able to get this done for me, Y/N.”

“Coming,” you sighed out, and Sam squeezed your free hand reassuringly. “We’re coming.”

“Did you stop for car sex? That’s gross.”

“No, Ruby,” you glanced at Sam. “We did not stop for car sex.”

Sam snorted, loud enough that Ruby definitely heard him. Figuring you’d gotten the necessary communication over with, you opted to just hang up before she could start shrieking again.

“That would be our cue,” you said wryly, hopping up off of Sam’s lap. Your foot came down on a half-buried rock as you shifted to standing, your ankle rolling sideways and your balance faltering.

Sam’s arms came around your waist just as you were pinwheeling your arms, preparing to take a dive into the creek. You yelped, hearing a reassuring laugh from Sam as he pulled you away from the edge of the creek bank. “I’ve got you. You did tell me not to let you get wet.”

Your adrenaline rush had melted into a fit of giggles, and you let Sam hang on to you on flat ground while you laughed, totally at ease. And right there you decided that even if it was going to suck when the wedding was over, at least you would have had this week. You followed Sam back to the car still laughing, and he didn’t let go of your hand.

Gramma Lilith was on the driveway when you finally pulled up, hands on her hips, white skirt billowing in the wind, and possibly more botox in her lips than the last time you’d seen her. “Took you long enough!” she was shouting before either of you had gotten a car door open. Not that it mattered; you could hear her shrill voice anyway.

You and Sam both hastened to the backseat, pulling out bouquets and potted flowers in an attempt to placate her. It only served to bring Ruby outside to stand beside her grandmother, both of them snipping at you while simultaneously complimenting Ruby’s choices. It made your head ache just listening to the two of them.

“Ruby, the cakes should go in the fridge,” you tried, holding the boxes out to her in the hope that it might motivate her to actually do something instead of watching you.

“So what are you waiting for?” your sister asked instead. You sighed, trekking into the house with the cake boxes and sliding them into the fridge, thanking the heavens for small mercies that there was enough room without having to also play Tetris with the food.

You got back out onto the driveway just in time to hear your grandmother turn her attention to Sam. “Are you where my salad went, boy?” she asked shrewdly, hands on her hips.

Sam froze, halfway out of the backseat with a pile of flowers in his arms. “Well,”

“Gramma,” you hurried to interrupt, but she wasn’t having it.

“I don’t care,” she went on, still looking at the moose-in-the-headlights. “But I do appreciate straight answers.”

Sam swallowed and straightened up, arms still full of purple flowers. “Yes ma’am. I was...hungry.”

You had been valiantly biting your lip through the entire exchange, but between his awkward reply and the look on your grandmother’s face, you burst out into a fit of giggles, diving into the backseat hastily to cover it up with more flowers.

Lilith humphed, her eyes flitting between you and Sam. “You don’t deserve someone like her,” your grandmother informed him, having evidently decided he was alright. And all of you knew that she meant it in that Sam deserved better than you, but he just smiled and caught up to you in front of the car.

“I know,” he said, and then he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, crushing the flowers between you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. It was surprisingly heady, tinged with desperation as Sam devoured your lips, tongue sliding and teeth clashing once in his haste. You were drunk on it, on him, reaching your free hand up to tangle in his hair as you rose up onto your tiptoes, trying to fight the height difference, your audience completely forgotten. No one had ever kissed you like that before.

And then Sam was pulling back, eyes almost black as he stared at you but somehow keeping his composure as he moved to finish taking the flowers into the house like he hadn’t just kissed you senseless.

Ruby and Lilith looked equally stunned at the display, and somewhere in the back of your brain, you remembered that that was why he’d done it, that it was all part of a show and that if you were a real couple, you’d have kissed plenty of times already. But as you stood speechless in the driveway, all you could really think about was him. There was no way you’d survive this wedding.

tags: @vicmc624, @thebookisbtr, @alicedopey

#supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #x reader #reader insert #supernatural #spn #series

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #290

“you’re a little pistol, & i’m fuckin’ pistol-whipped.”

What’s the biggest argument you’ve ever had with a family member? Did things ever go back to how they were beforehand? Definitely something with Mom. The biggest was probably in the car one night where she got so mad at me that she tried to kick me out of the car. No, I didn't listen. I don't really remember exactly what we were arguing about... other than it was something small that blew up about bigger themes. Have you ever experienced some kind of natural disaster? Hurricanes. If you have pets, do you feed them human food or do they just get regular pet food? If they do get human food, what’s their favorite thing to have? Roman only gets cat food. He's actually really well-trained about not taking human food after he did once as a kitten. Now he might just sniff around curiously and give it a look, but food can be pretty close to him and he doesn't go for it. Have you ever been in a physical fight? Who won? No. What were you lighting the last time you used a lighter or matches? Probably a candle. What’s the mode of transport that you take or use the most? Mom's car. Are there any sequels to things that you prefer to the original? I'm sure. Oh, Shrek comes to mind; I love the original, but the second is my favorite. What games do you play on your phone, if any at all? Just Pokemon GO, really. I have a couple others up there just for my niece and nephew to play. Aside from family, who was the last person you spent time with? How do you know that person? miss rona doesn't allow "hanging out." Do you spend a lot of money on your appearance? No. Have you ever had a zoo keeper experience or anything where you’ve been able to go behind the scenes and look after/feed the animals? I wish! :( Do you have an item that is your good luck charm? No. Your favorite thing about your job (or school)? N/A Least favorite thing about your job (or school)? N/A Do you have a "funny" toenail? No. Favorite canned soup? Meh, not a soup person. Do you have a particular coffee mug you drink from? No. Your take on declawing cats? It's cruel as fuck and you're despicable if you think it's all good and well to torture your cat like that. Do you have smoke detectors in your home? Yeah. What was your favorite snuggle toy when you were a child? First it was my little stuffed bunny that held a polka-dotted blanket, but through most of my childhood I cuddled a stuffed moose I got from Ohio at Cabela's. Brownie is still on top of my dresser. :') What did you do on your first date? Got Sonic and saw Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance in the theater. I had the weirdest first date in that he invited my mom lmao. I still count it as our first one, though. The last time you let someone go, was it to make yourself happy or them? Myself. Who was the last person that could tell something was wrong with you? My ma. Have you ever thought about online dating? If so, were you desperate? Well I had a long-distance relationship, but it wasn't through a dating app or anything. Had one of those once and am mortified by it (even though no one shoud be), but no, I wouldn't have called myself "desperate." I was just incredibly lonely. Do you try not to take a lot of medicine or do you take it whenever? I just take it if I need it, honestly. I've been medicated pretty heavily most of my life, so whatever. Are you ever scared of people reading your survey answers? I wouldn't put them out there if I was. Would you ever go back to your most recent ex? That's the plan if things go ideally, but I'm not letting my hopes get too high. It'll be nice if that happened, but I'll still live on if not. What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? She has lots of pets. There's Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Jane Marie, Doris, Buster, Mango, and for her fish, I only know the one pleco's name: Raisha. When was the last time you got a splinter? I'm not sure. Are there any spiders in your room right now? I mean, probably. Somewhere. Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass? Not of myself. Who’s your favorite Disney charater? Dory. Are there any framed pictures of you in your house? In family shots, yes. What was the first television show you were obsessed with? Pokemon. Do you and your friends normally say you love one another? Definitely. How often would you say you get sick? Almost never. Let's not jinx it. Is there anything you get for free as a benefit for being a member of something? No. When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was a year I'd wish upon absofuckinglutely nobody. Do you think bald guys are attractive? It would depend on the person? I don't find them inherently unattractive or attractive. If you don’t recognize the number of who’s calling, do you answer anyway? Nope. How do you pronounce route? "Rowt" What's the last thing you looked at under a microscope? Something during a biology lab when I was still in school. We looked at a number of stuff. Pretty cool. What internet service provider do you have? ... We just moved and changed providers and I already don't remember. Do you ever hear of something disgusting that you haven’t seen, so you go and look it up? This is very rare. If something is *disgusting*, I don't exactly wanna see it. If you had to get a tattoo on your face to save your life, what would it be? I'd have to think on this. I'm not opposed to a subtle face tat anyway, maybe near my ear or eye. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No... but I've always kinda wanted a partner to lmao that's cute as fuck. Who was the last person you were “in a relationship with” on Facebook (including anyone you may have put “in a relationship with” for a joke)? Sara. Were you ever “the other man/woman”? How did it turn out? How do you feel about it today? No, and I never would be. What do you think of open relationships? If your partner suggested it, what would you say? Not for me whatsoever, but it works for some people. I'd honestly leave the relationship because I'd feel like I wasn't good enough. Would you ever date out of your race? I have before, would do it again with no problems. Have you ever had a reptile for a pet? Oh, plenty! Did you have a swing set when you were a kid? Yes. Swings were my favorite outdoor "toy" as a kid. What is a book that you really want to read? The Testaments by Margaret Atwood. I fucking adore The Handmaid's Tale and I literally have the book, I'm just too into WoF to make time for it. What is something that you really want to try, whether it’s a hobby, food, etc.? A lot of things. I guess to name one... wow, now that I'm actually thinking, nothing is coming to me, lmao. What sort of things do you like to post or look at on Tumblr? Mark-related stuff, what a shocker. What type of people are you usually attracted to? "Different," but not in a super weird-you-out way. I like clearly unique, truly one-of-a-kind people. What song are you listening to at the moment? "Watching For Comets" by Skillet is on. I'm surprised I feel okay listening to it. How often do you take naps and how long do they usually last? Almost daily. They can be an hour or two... embarrassingly, haha. Who’s one person who changed how you viewed something? Hannah Hart on gay rights. How many pillows do you like to sleep with? Two. What was the best conversation you’ve had recently? I dunno. Have you ever considered modeling? Nooooooooooo sir. When was the last time you did something daring? ME? DARING? Who in the world knows. List five of your favorite foreign foods. Uhhhh. 1.) This requires a lot of thinking and 2.) I'm very uninformed in what is *actually* truly foreign food that I've eaten and not just an American adaptation. I'm not very adventurous with foods, either, especially when I know it's "foreign." What types of seafood are your favorite? I just like shrimp. Do you write a lot for pleasure? I wouldn't say "a lot" anymore. Do you like bacon? Oh yeah. Do you like Rammstein? Hell yeah, they're in my favorites list. Have you ever been to a State Fair? Maybe, but I don't think so. Do you like YouTube? Maaan, I don't know what I'd do without it lmao. If so what's your favorite channel? I like that Mark R. Pliers guy a little bit, and lately I've really been digging Snake Discovery and Hazelnuttygames. Good Mythical Morning/Rhett and Link are deep, deep in my heart still, even though I don't watch them anymore. There is truly a *lot*, it's why I don't need television, haha. What is your favorite small dog breed? Papillons, probably. When was the last time you went through a McDonald's Playplace? Oh yikes, no clue. I definitely haven't ~really~ been in one since I was much younger (uhhhh and smaller), but I do have a faint memory of starting to go in one chasing after a kid. Maybe my nephew when he and his dad visited? idr What was the first comic book you ever had an obsession over? I was never into comics. Do you like kids pop-up books? BITCH you are LYING if you say you don't like looking at the cool effects lmao. Have you ever ridden a camel? No. Have you ever punched somebody? No. Can you sing opera? Oh, definitely not. Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? My therapist, and you could say that, considering I never did before because I hate video calls. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them annoyed you? What happened? Roman (my cat) was just playing too rough with my hand. He's always hyper in the morning. When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? Wow... it's been many years. I walked Teddy sometimes, but that definitely slowed down and eventually came to a halt as he aged and his joints got bad; he would hesitate going down the porch steps, and I didn't want him to get too tired mid-walk and then have to go up them. Have you ever been the victim of a theft or robbery? What was stolen? Did the police ever catch the person who did it? No, thankfully. Are you a fan of garlic bread? Do you eat it on its own or as part of a bigger meal? Garlic bread would ruin my life if I let it, lmao. It's always a side. When was the last time your area was under some kind of weather warning? Did it end up being as bad as predicted? There was literally a tornado warning three days ago. I don't think so, no, but then again I didn't really look into it. Do you prefer having the blinds/curtains open or closed when you’re at home? Does it depend on the weather or the time of day? OPEN. You NEED natural light, I promise. I used to like my room as dark as possible in my worst times, but I am so glad I cut that out. I like, feel a part of me lighten up when I open my blinds in the morning. Who was the last person to tag you in something on social media? How do you know that person? My mom shared something that reminded her of Roman. Have you ever eaten a Big Mac? No; I don't like lettuce in my burgers, so I'm sure I wouldn't like it. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I'd have to check. Where was your favorite hangout as a kid? So at my childhood home, down the road was a "stream" (aka a ditch and drainage pipe going underneath the road) that usually had at least some water in it, but if it rained, it really started to feel more like a real stream to us kids because of the movement. It drained into the pond just beyond the woods, and my sisters and some neighbors loved to play around that area. What’s your favorite pizza topping? Pepperoni,ig. Which sport do you suck at the most? All of 'em lol. My hand-eye coordination is awful, and hell no can I run. Are you good at rapping? I've never tried, but I'm certain I wouldn't be. I stutter so badly, and it's been getting worse. Can you say the alphabet in more than one language? I know it in German. Do you eat three meals a day? It varies. What do you want out of life? Fulfillment. To feel like I did something worthwhile.

#survey #surveys #quiz #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''pistol whipped" by marilyn manson

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myforeverforlife · 5 years ago

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familiar stranger (final).

“It doesn’t feel like home when you’re not with me."

Jongdae’s eyelids fluttered shut, the weight of your words touching the depths of his heart. "You’ll always have me, no matter what. Home hasn’t been the same without you.” His eyes opened, brown pools of color full of adoration as he stared back at you.

Everything was falling back into place.

Disclaimer: This series was planned out before Jongdae’s announcement, and I wanted to finish this for everyone who’s been reading and following along since part one. As always, everything in this is fictional, the only things linked to reality are the use of some character names.

Word Count: 5,734

Masterlist

Series masterlist: ( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( Final )

Moving day was more organized than you expected. You only had to bring over the pile of stuff you accumulated while staying with Minseok, and the rest already had a place at home with Jongdae. Most of your items were easily settled and in their places within a couple of hours, much to your satisfaction. The only thing left to do was to get the remainder of your clothes put away.

As you folded and hung up your clothes, it hit you that while most of your other tastes had stayed the same, your choice in clothing hadn't. In the course of six years, your wardrobe had changed almost completely.

"I feel like I'm shopping through my own closet," you said over your shoulder. Rummaging through coats and sweaters, you were impressed by certain fashions choices, and oddly confused at others. "Did I really wear this orange sweater?" You took it out by the hanger, lifting it up just as Jongdae peeked out from the bathroom.

"You did, and I always said that you looked like a pumpkin. A very cute pumpkin, I might add." Jongdae laughed, even with his mouth full of toothpaste.

You hung the fuzzy blob of a sweater back up, failing to hide the smile working its way onto your face at Jongdae's words. "I guess I know why I kept it," you said to yourself as Jongdae finished brushing his teeth. He joined you at the closet soon after, similarly dressed in his well-loved pajamas.

"I forgot you even had this," he chuckled. Jongdae reached out, fingers running down the woolen fabric of the sweater. "I never knew why you didn't donate or throw it away. You always said it was too scratchy to wear."

Eyebrows raised in disbelief, you crossed your arms over your chest. "Really? You honestly don't have any idea why?"

Jongdae was still confused, staring harder at the sweater as if he would find the answer there. "No... why?"

"I probably kept it because you liked it so much! Who doesn't want to be called a 'cute pumpkin' by their husband?"

"Huh." Jongdae's head cocked to the head slightly, studying the article of clothing one last time before turning to you. "You didn't have to do that. I know you don't usually like this style."

"I mean, technically I didn't do anything. 'Past me' did."

Jongdae smiled, closing the distance and putting his arms around your waist. "Well, 'past you' is still you." He kissed the crown of your head, his lips lingering a but longer before he rested his cheek against your hair. "Ready for bed?"

It amused Jongdae to watch you hop in on the left side of the bed, a spot you always claimed. You pulled a pillow close to you as you brought the fluffy blanket over your shoulders, sniffing curiously as you caught a whiff of a familiar scent.

"Lavender," you mused, diving down for another sniff.

"To help you sleep," Jongdae explained as he turned off the light on the nightstand. "You used to talk about how it takes forever for you to fall asleep." He stifled a laugh as he lay down, resting his head on the pillow underneath. "And if we're being honest, you were sort of jealous of my ability to fall asleep in five seconds flat."

You mirrored Jongdae, lying down and facing him as you clutched the pillow tightly to you with both arms. "I'm still jealous, now that you've brought that up," you pouted.

Jongdae cooed with sympathy, scooting closer and bringing one arm up to encircle as much of you as he could. "Hopefully the lavender helps tonight."

"I'm sure it will." You smiled up at him before hugging him back, the pillow between both of you making it hard to get your arm over his waist. To Jongdae's amusement, you shoved the pillow out of the way before snuggling closer, nose pressed into his shirt.

And sure enough, you slept better than you did in a long time.

"Y/N, can you bring me the scallops?"

"Yes, chef!" You picked up the hot pan with a towel, warning your fellow chefs as you stepped past before placing on the counter next to Key. He finished plating his risotto before reaching for the scallops, sending you a quick thanks before focusing entirely on the food before him.

"Mingyu, I need garnish soon! Kyungsoo, get ready to have your salmon up to the counter!"

Both men were quick to respond to the head chef, Mingyu readying dainty flowers to be sprinkled atop the scallop risotto while Kyungsoo wiped the edges of his salmon dishes.

You went to check on the meal ticket one last time, making sure that nothing was missing. Under Key's supervision, his dishes were immaculate and aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

Once Jaehyun came to take the dishes out, the whole process started all over again. Key led your team through a couple orders of spicy pork over cauliflower rice and, much to Kyungsoo's delight, wasabi tacos. Time seemed to fly past as you all finished up the last of the main dishes and started on desserts.

Service ended with a last order of lychee cheesecake and mini red bean pancakes topped with French vanilla ice cream, your mouth watering at the sight of them.

"Good work tonight, everybody. That was the best service we've had in a long time. Maybe even since Y/N was last here," he added, giving you a thumbs-up. "Alright, let's clean up and get the hell out of here. I'm dying for a drink."

You rolled back your shoulders, stretching out the sore muscles and moving onto your neck when Kyungsoo called out to you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, my body's just stiff. Too much sitting around at home for me really left me out of shape," you joked.

Kyungsoo's eyes softened in sympathy. "It's tough jumping back into this after so long. You'll get used to it again though."

"Sounds like you speak from experience?"

"Yeah, before I got hired here, I did my military service. I had to leave my job at Junmyeon's old restaurant, Oasis, but he offered me one here once I got out. I thought I'd ease back in like I never left, but it was weird to get back into the habit of cooking in an environment like this. Not just physically, but mentally as well." He leaned back against the counter, throwing the towel in his hand onto his shoulder and crossing his arms. "Luckily, Key is a decent head chef, when he's not sending drunk texts to the groupchat."

"I can hear you Do Kyungsoo, and those counters won't wipe themselves!" Key yelled from the walk-in fridge.

You stifled your giggles as Kyungsoo flinched, immediately reaching up for his towel and searching for the nearest surface to start cleaning.

Sure, your body wasn't used to the stress of pulling through a service like this, but you felt better than you had in a long time. It also helped that you had been welcomed back so cheerfully. Of course, everyone in the kitchen was overjoyed to have you there. Your tasks had been divvied up and shared among the remaining four chefs, the managers even stepping in to help wherever they could.

But you could feel the camaraderie between everyone, and the way that this same friendship was extended towards you. The younger ones liked to rope you into their antics, Lucas and Mark often looking to you for your opinion whenever they got into an enthusiastic discussion about, well, anything. The latest debate had been over which Smash Bros character was the best.

Your happiness at work filtered into your cheeriness at home, and vice versa. Your parents were even able to pick up on your cheery mood as you talked to them over the phone. Although they were cities away and unable to come up to Seoul as often as they liked, you made the effort to call them at least once a week.

Jongdae liked to say hi to your parents whenever he heard that you were on the phone with them. Nothing more than the usual effervescent, genuine greeting, and then he left you with a kiss and your privacy to continue your phone call. As familiar as he was with your parents, you were almost terrified about meeting his. It was slightly comforting to know that they loved you already, but meeting your partner's parents was always a nerve-wracking event. Jongdae never pushed you to meet them, much less talk to then until you were ready.

But deep down, you knew that this was something you would have to do eventually.

You met them for the first time (again) at his parents on a sunny weekend in March, during a family get-together at their house. Jongdae's older brother was there too with his wife, their little daughter back home spending some time with her maternal grandmother.

It was easy to see where Jongdae's assorted charms came from as you observed his parents. His father was reliable and always ready to lend a hand, even when you didn't say anything. His mother was bubbly and optimistic, constantly refreshing others with a kind word and a warm smile.

And Jongdae, sweet as ever, was by your side throughout it all. A hand on your waist as you talked to his mom, a hearty laugh when you innocently pointed out that his brother had a piece of spinach stuck in his teeth.

His childhood home was gone, but his parents still kept a room reserved for him and his brother in their new apartment. Boxes of artifacts from his youth were stacked against the wall, full of yearbooks, letters and stuffed plushies spilling out when you opened them up.

"You have a teddy bear collection?" you asked, picking up one with a plush skateboard attached to its feet. "This might be the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"Stop," Jongdae whined, falling to the floor and covering his face with his hands as you laughed. "I feel bad about throwing them out."

"I'm serious, Dae. This is adorable." You sat the bear up against the pillows on his bed, lining up bear after bear until you had an entire row there. Some were in better condition than others, but all had been well-loved.

Jongdae showed you old photos of the band he was in during high-school, an adolescent version of him sporting different hairstyles that his friend did for him. "I let him practice on me, but I drew the line at mohawks. My mom would've killed me, and Jongdeok would've teased me about it forever. Not that he doesn't tease me enough already," he added with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

"How about now?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. "I think you'd look good in one."

Jongdae choked on his laughter, tears welling in the corners of his eyes as you frantically got him up to a sitting position. "I'm fine," he assured you, coughing in between chuckles. "You just surprised me."

"You mean you don't want a hairstyle that makes you look like a rooster?" you quipped, joining in as Jongdae erupted into giggles once more.

"Okay, that's it, I'm never going with you to the hair salon." His chest continued to rumble with laughter as he leaned against you, his cheek pressed against your head. "I'm glad you're having a good time here."

"Your family's so sweet, how can I not?"

Jongdae smiled to himself, head ducking down to kiss you. "I'm happy that you're happy, darling."

Jongdae's family members were so similar to himself, how could you not love them? They welcomed you into the family a second time, your personality suiting their easygoing ways.

And something you really appreciated — not once did any of them comment on your ring-less finger.

It had been a journey wracked with guilt and confusion, but you had reached the point where looking at your wedding ring didn't send you into a whirlpool of nervousness.

A few weeks and sessions unpacking your guilt with Dr. Suh later, you even took to wearing your wedding ring again — although not where you were traditionally expected to. The elegant piece of jewelry hung from a thin silver chain around your neck, an old Christmas present from your father.

Your ring was the bridge between your present and past — but more importantly, your future. Wearing your ring grounded you, reminded you about how lucky you were to be here now, even if you couldn't remember the past six years. It was comforting to feel the slight pull on your necklace when you leaned forward, the ring swinging forward and catching the light.

What warmed your heart even more was Jongdae's reaction to seeing it again.

You had been antsy all day, the ring hidden under your shirt. For all Jongdae knew, you were just wearing a necklace you had rediscovered. But when you leaned down to pick up a pair of shoes, the ring slipped out from its hiding place. Jongdae, who tended to be completely oblivious to his surroundings, took a bit to realize what he was seeing. Once he did, however, his mouth fell open, eyes trained solely on the ring at your neck. No matter how many times you replayed it in your mind, you couldn't figure out who had moved first. All you knew was that both of you were in each other's arms, Jongdae's lips on yours as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he managed to finally pull away, he looked you in the eye, asking why you chose to wear it.

"It just feels right," you murmured, fingers tracing over his collarbones. You couldn't meet his gaze, feeling the the intensity of his eyes on yours. You needed to be clear-headed if you wanted to get your thoughts out correctly. "I used to be scared of it. I knew that I loved you, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for a big commitment like this. It's my first time being married," you finished with a soft laugh.

Jongdae lifted your chin up gently, waiting until you were looking at him. "You didn't do this just for me, right?" He swallowed back the nervousness creeping up his throat.

You shook your head. "Not just for you or me, but for us, darling."

Jongdae froze for a second before his hands came up to your cheeks, caressing them softly. “Say it again, please.” His voice was shaky, despite the steadiness of his hands. "I've missed hearing that."

"Darling Jongdae," you whispered back, your own hands trembling as they reached up to cover Jongdae's where they rested on your face. "I love you. I don't think I ever really stopped."

Jongdae let out an unexpected sob, closing his eyes and ducking his head. His hands dropped from your face, taking yours down with him.

"Dae, don't cry," you pleaded, reaching out to be the one to cradle his face now. "Dae," you said tenderly, brushing his bangs back as he tried to hide his tears.

He turned his head, wiping his face on his sleeve before turning back to you. His eyes were red-rimmed, tears clumping his eyelashes together. "I'm happy," he choked out, taking in a shuddering, raspy breath. "You make me happy, Y/N, no matter what you do. But this... nothing even compares to this.”

"But I'm not even wearing the ring the right way," you murmured, surprised by his strong reaction.

Jongdae shook his head, brows drawn low over his face, a serious glint to his eye. "It doesn't matter where you wear it. You could wear it on your pinky toe, for all that I care. But I'm... I'm honored that you would choose to wear it again. To choose me again."

"It's only ever been you, Jongdae. I'd fall for you again, a million times over if it meant I got to be with you." You kissed him, feeling the subtle tickle of his eyelashes against your skin when he closed his eyes.

"I love you," he breathed, unwilling to move even an inch away when he was already drunk off of you.

"I love you too, Dae."

And in your soul, you felt that truer words had never been spoken.

Winter ended and with it came sunnier spring days, each with their fair share of rainy ones. You and Jongdae had spent these early months of the year cuddled up in late winter's warmth, discovering new things about each other as the first seeds began to sprout. It was normal now for Jongdae to pick you up from work, for both of you to come home and talk about your days over dinner and then spend the rest of the night lazing around.

Your old worries tended to creep up on you from time to time, but your circle of supporters were always ready to listen and comfort. You confided in Dr. Suh, sharing your deepest, darkest fears about not being able to live up to the person you had been before the accident. It took a lot of talking out your thoughts and thinking through the realities of them, sorting through what was fact and fiction, and the importance of living for now.

You had gotten so used to having Dr. Suh as another shoulder to lean on that it knocked your world off balance when you got down to your last sessions.

"I don't think there's anything left for me to help you with," she explained. "You've done an amazing job learning to talk through your problems, and not just to me. I've seen how much you and Jongdae have improved, and I think it's time that I take a step back."

"This is so weird, it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago that I came in here for the first time," you mused.

"Time really has flown by, hasn’t it?” Dr. Suh took off her glasses, resting them on top of her leg. "You've made so much progress, and I have faith in your abilities to continue your good work. I'll miss my sessions with you and Jongdae, but I sincerely believe that neither of you need me anymore. I'm proud of you both."

A sudden wave of emotion came over you, gratitude towards Dr. Suh for all of her help over the past months, to uncertainty about the days ahead without these confidential talks in her office. "Are you sure?" you asked meekly. "What do I do if I need help again?"

"Then I'll always be here. But I think you and Jongdae have done more for each other than I have." Her lips curled upwards, bringing an uncommon youthfulness to her usually calm demeanor.

"I'm sure together, the two of you will be just fine."

Six months later...

Your played with the ring hanging from your neck, one foot tapping anxiously against the floor. Tonight was the night. It wasn't your first holiday with Jongdae, and some people wouldn't consider a birthday a "real" holiday anyways, but in your eyes, it was absolutely imperative that everything go smoothly tonight.

"Y/N, relax, he'll be here soon," Key said, wiping off a few beads of sweat from his forehead. "If you stay in the kitchen any longer, you'll end up sweating in that outfit."

He had a point. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" you asked, leaning across the counter. Key had done his best to keep you out of the kitchen, sparing one glance at your dress and stating that he wouldn't be the one to get oil or food residue on your outfit. After you begged and pleaded, he begrudgingly agreed to let you sit and watch from across the counter.

"I'm sure," Key emphasized, waving you away with one hand. "Now hurry and get out there before your dress starts to smell like beef or something."

With a snort, you hopped off the stool, pushing open the kitchen door and leaving the chefs to their own devices.

The restaurant was nearly empty, the last few customers finishing up their meals and settling their checks. You had offered to work today, but Irene wouldn't hear of it, especially after hearing of your plans to celebrate Jongdae's birthday. She even insisted that you take your time off to go and treat yourself to some time at a salon. That didn't stop you from showing up an hour before you told Jongdae to meet you, running through your plans and finalizing them.

For your sake, the restaurant was closing early tonight so that you and Jongdae would have the whole place to yourselves. Well, yourselves, and the rest of the staff who you knew would be eavesdropping at every moment.

"Y/N!" Junmyeon called out, coming over with two copies of your menu. "We finally got the printer to work, what do you think?"

In his hands were two menus, the thick leaves of paper already laminated and placed inside the leather bindings. You read down the list, nodding contentedly at what you saw there. "Perfect! Thanks so much, Myeon. I know how much trouble the printer was giving you."

"If it's for you and Jongdae, it's not a problem. You can pay me in leftover food, though." He laughed as he walked away, the apples of his cheeks tinged pink with mirth.

One table by the window had been especially reserved for both of you, the table settings already freshly cleaned after the previous diners. You leaned over, rearranging the petite flowers in the vase that sat there, the golden sunshine of their petals instantly lifting your mood. The simple arrangement held a mix of dandelions and black-eyed Susans, with some sprigs of baby's breath to add some subtle contrast. As much as you and Jongdae both loved lavender, you noticed how he was always drawn to any sort of buttery, yellow flower. His face had brightened up when you brought some home the other day, his nose disappearing into the depth of petals as he smelled the fragrant scent. He made you laugh when he picked one out, sticking it behind his ear as you both did the rest of your Saturday chores.

"Y/N, it's almost time!" Irene came up from behind, smoothing down your hair and giving you a final look-over. She nodded to herself when she was satisfied, gently pushing you into a chair.

"Irene, I'm probably gonna stand up again once he comes in," you said, even as your boss meticulously straightened out every little bit and piece on the table.

"That might be true, but when Jongdae walks up to the entrance, the first thing he's going to see is you sitting here by the window. With the light coming at you from this angle and your vase of flowers here, you look like you belong in a painting. Jongdae will be at a complete loss for words."

Your lips quirked up at the unexpected compliments, thanking your friend for her help tonight.

"I'm happy to do this for you, Y/N. We all are." She glanced up, spotting something through the window. "I'd say good luck, but I know that you won't need it."

You followed her line of sight, sitting up in your seat and craning your neck until you saw Jongdae, frozen on the path leading up to the restaurant. He broke out of his stupor when he met your eye, raising a hand to wave shyly. You didn't even notice Irene as she slipped away discreetly, your heart melting at the sight of Jongdae. Your boss may have tried to frame you like a portrait in a museum, picturesque and pleasing to the eye, but no work of art could surpass Jongdae's beauty in your eyes.

Jongdae greeted Johnny at the entrance, following through the charade as the taller man led him to your table — the only occupied table in the entire restaurant. He took his seat, fingers tapping nervously against his legs as he gave you a crooked smile. "Hi, darling. I didn't think we'd be the only ones here tonight."

"Being friends with the owner has its perks," you shrugged nonchalantly. "Happy birthday, Dae." You had already wished him a happy birthday multiple times already, but you were overflowing with festive cheer. It was your first time celebrating his birthday, and you intended to make this a night he wouldn't forget.

"Thank you," Jongdae replied sweetly, his hand reaching over the table to meet yours.

Johnny came back with drinks and your specially crafted menus. There was only one option listed for each course, but you had made sure to pick dishes that Jongdae absolutely loved. His face lit up as he read down the list, unconsciously swallowing as if he could already taste the food. "Babe, this all sounds amazing. How am I gonna eat all of this?"

"I'm sure we'll find a way. And if we don't, at least we've got a full staff to help us out." You nodded towards the kitchen, Jongdae following suit only to see Key staring through the window. The head chef was unfazed at being caught, waving quickly before he disappeared from view and sending you and Jongdae into a fit of giggles.

The first course was the appetizer: a sampler of short ribs cooked in several ways. The bites were small, but enough to hold you over until the next course. Jongdae, ever the carnivore, dug in with gusto. "This isn't a dish on the menu, is it? Did you come up with this?" he asked in awe.

"I planned it with Key and Soo. They both helped me with the flavor combinations."

Jongdae sighed happily. "You're a genius. I could kiss you right now, you know?"

"I'd be fine with that," you smiled, leaning closer.

The door to the kitchen swung open, Ten coming to bring you the main course. You and Jongdae both jumped back in your seats, laughing quietly at your shared embarrassment.

If Jongdae was ecstatic at the sight of the appetizer, he was completely overjoyed when he saw what the main course was. "It's your kimchi stew," he gaped in wonder.

You had practiced the beloved recipe, the one from your cookbook that reduced you to tears months ago. It had taken a couple of test trials in the kitchen before you felt that it was absolutely perfect, nothing less than what you wanted to present to Jongdae. Tonight, Kyungsoo was in charge of it, but you trusted him with your recipe wholeheartedly.

Jongdae closed his eyes as soon as he took the first bite, the familiar spiciness and warmth rushing over him. "God, this is so good," he gushed, opening his eyes to meet your proud smile.

"I'm glad you like it. Kyungsoo did a great job with it tonight."

Jongdae nodded, scooping up some rice from the stone bowl beside his stew. "I'll have to give my compliments to the chef," he joked with a twinkle in his eye.

When both of you were done and felt like you couldn't eat any more, Ten came back to clear your dishes. You knew what was going to happen next, and the dormant butterflies in your stomach began to fly into a frenzy. Across from you, Jongdae sat oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"I don't know if I can eat any more. But then again, Mom always said I had a separate stomach for dessert." He laughed, hands resting over his full belly as you joined in.

"Well, I guess we'll see if that's true."

Jongdae raised an eyebrow, about to ask something when some of the lights went out, only your little corner by the window still illuminated by light. A chorus of singing could be heard from the kitchen, only to come flooding out once the doors opened.

Junmyeon carried the cake out, concentrating hard on singing and walking at the same time. Irene was beside him, hands outstretched as if she expected the cake to fall at any moment. Kyungsoo was right behind, the cake knife wrapped in a cloth napkin and held carefully in his hands as his cheeks glowed with excitement. The rest of the staff followed along, singing turning to shouts and cheers as the fun of it all started to sink in. Even Minseok and Baekhyun were there, Minseok recording on his phone and Baekhyun with a party hat on his head.

"Happy birthday!" Baekhyun yelled once the singing was over and the applause died down. He took off his hat to put it on Jongdae's head instead. Of course, always ready to go along with the fun, Jongdae let his best friend put the silly hat on him. It was much too small, and you were sure that he would have a mark on his chin from the rubber band, but none of it bothered him at all.

Junmyeon managed to get the cake onto the table without any incidents, much to everyone's relief. He hid behind Mingyu to wipe away the sweat at his temples while Jongdae grinned appreciatively at the cake.

"Matcha cheesecake?" he asked, eyes flashing up to meet yours.

"The one and only. I hope you like it, Dae."

"I love it, all of this. Thank you so much, darling." He brought your hand up, pressing a feather-light kiss to the knuckles there.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Minseok spoke up, still recording every moment.

Jongdae took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. It was almost like watching him pray, the way he whispered to himself so softly, no one else could hear. He opened his eyes and blew out the candles, the room erupting into cheers and applause once more.

Soon, the cake was cut and pieces passed around. Jongdae had tried to cut it at first, but the slices were in danger of coming out horribly uneven, so Kyungsoo stepped in. Everyone was scattered throughout the restaurant, lounging around and talking over their cake. They were mindful of your privacy, varied conversations never interrupting the intimacy shared at your table.

"Y/N, thank you so much for tonight," Jongdae murmured, now without his birthday hat. "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

"Really?" you asked, fork stopping halfway to your mouth as your froze, taken off-guard.

"Really," he repeated. "I can tell how much work you put into this, you and everyone here. I still can't believe how lucky I am to have someone do this for me."

"I do it because I love you, Dae." You set your fork down, the metal clattering against the ceramic plate. "I actually have one last surprise," you stammered out. The butterflies in your stomach had now reached peak frenzy, almost rendering you frozen.

Jongdae watched, half intrigued and the other half worried by the trembling of your fingers. You reached up to undo the clasp of your necklace, slipping your ring off of the chain and cradling it in your other hand.

"At the beginning of this year, I wasn't sure what would happen to me. I was terrified and lost, and it took everything I had to even try to piece my life back together." You paused, licking your dry lips and readying yourself for the next words. Jongdae's eyes were wide, emotion swirling in that expressive face of his. The love and awe that you saw there spurred you on, words coming more readily.

"I was scared of falling back in love with you because I knew even less about you than I knew about myself. And the more I found out about you, the deeper I fell. It was the biggest leap of faith I'd ever taken, trusting myself to you and hoping that we would both come out unscathed. And now, every single day, I'm so thankful to have you in my life. I love you more than I can say in words, more than I will ever remember. Kim Jongdae, will you marry me a second time?"

Jongdae jumped up, surprising you and everyone else in the room who had been listening in. He came around the table, stooping down to cup your cheeks gently before he kissed you.

Someone started hooting and cheering, but it was merely background noise to you. How could you focus on anything else when Jongdae was kissing you like you were the most precious thing he had ever set eyes on?

"Is that a yes?" you mumbled against his lips, raising an eyebrow when Jongdae chuckled softly.

"Yes, with all of my heart." Jongdae crouched down beside you, on his knees as he took the ring from your hand. Both of you watched as he slid it carefully onto the finger that had been bare for so long. Once it was nestled safely against your skin, you pulled him back in for another kiss, giggling when your friends began to crowd the two of you again.

"Yo, but can people really get married twice?" Mark asked to no one in particular, looking from face to face for his answer.

"I was thinking more of us renewing our vows, but asking him to marry me just seemed more romantic," you explained with a laugh.

"And it worked," Jongdae added, his hand stroking the side of your face. "I'd marry you a thousand times over, if you asked me to."

"Don't say that, she'll really make you do it," Minseok interrupted.

You stuck your tongue out at your older brother, ignoring the chuckles of amusement at your childish reaction. Jongdae reached down to pick up your left hand, his thumb running reverently over the ring there.

"Thank you," he whispered to you, his forehead resting against yours. "Thank you for choosing me again, even after everything."

"Darling, I always will. Even after every hardship, every unexpected thing that comes out way, we’ve managed to still make it out together. With you, I'm never lost."

Jongdae's gaze softened, his brown eyes reflecting your own hopes and dreams back for you to see. You felt his thumb run over your ring again, the touch comforting and immediately putting you at ease. "You'll never be lost again," he said sincerely.

"I promise."

Series masterlist: ( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( Final )

A/N: and that’s a wrap! thank you to everyone who’s been reading not only this series, but any of my jongdae fics since I started posting them here! 💕💕💕

for the flowers in the vase: baby's breath means long lasting love, dandelions can mean bravery, personal growth, healing, perseverance (there were lots of mixed meanings) and black-eyed susans mean encouragement.

if you guys remember the small paragraph I shared of this a long, long time ago before I really started working on the series, this will seem pretty different from that. I went through a lot of changes after hearing about jongdae's good news because I didn't want to write a jongdae scenario so close to reality. i’m still happy to end this series on a good note, and I can genuinely say that i’ve enjoyed every moment not only of writing this, but for writing everything i’ve done for jongdae. I won’t be writing any reader x jongdae fics anymore, but there’s always a good chance he’ll show up as a side character in future works!

tag list: @khelmatic @chogi-wae @wongxiexie

#exo #chen #chen scenario #jongdae scenario #chen fanfic #jongdae fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

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harry-sussex · 5 years ago

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Who’s More Likely To

In Honor of One (....er.... nearly four now, whoops) Month(s) of Archie A Little Mama or Daddy - Who’s More Likely To:

I promised an anon that I would do this after forgetting when it was posted by @harryandmeghansussex originally! So here’s my take:

Have picked his name? Meghan definitely picked Archie. It’s quirky, but super popular right now, and it’s regal enough without being straight from the standard list of royal baby names. And she loves the way it sounds in Harry’s British accent. Harry.... definitely picked Harrison lol. He basically took one look at his newborn son, his first baby, and in between the tears, blurted out “that is my.... son.... my...... son” and then locked eyes with Meghan and had an epiphany. Little Archie is Harry’s son and Harry made that very, very clear when naming his firstborn.

Know the difference between his cries first? Meghan. She’s so in tune with her baby. Imagine: Meg, taking a bath while Harry spends time with Archie. Archie starts crying, and Harry does everything under the sun to make him calm down - changes his nappy, warms him a bottle, sings him a lullaby, turns the faucets on, rocks him, literally everything - and nothing is working. Harry is about to call for backup when Meghan pops her head out of the bathroom, in a towel, and says “love, he needs to burp.” So Harry burps the baby and in three seconds everything is back to normal. Mama Meg knows her baby son. She just knows. Harry is learning, but Mama Meg just knows.

Really love watching the other one be a parent? I can imagine they gently argue about this on the daily. They routinely can’t make up their minds as to who gets to give Archie his bath, because they both love watching the other in Mummy/Daddy mode. They love to engage with their baby but they love equally watching the love of their life engage with their baby. It’s a struggle - a daily, sweet, wonderful struggle.

Have named all of Archie’s teddies? Oh, definitely Harry. He’s named Archie’s teddies after his favorite childhood dog, his favorite cartoons, Meghan’s favorite childhood stuffed animals. He borrows names from George and Charlotte’s toys, too.

Have taken the most pictures? It depends on who gets to hold him more. My guess is Meghan has more photos because Harry can’t put the baby down long enough to snap a few himself. Harry’s argument is that Meghan gets Archie all day while he’s at work, so he gets Archie in the evenings and in the early mornings. If he would split up holding the baby a little more evenly, the photo spread would be more even. But Harry the Baby Hog can’t and won’t put down his first child, so Meghan takes the pictures.

Have claimed to have seen the first smile but it was probably wind? Meg, absolutely. She’ll be downstairs with the baby while Harry is in the shower and she’ll yell for him at the top of her lungs... Harry will come flying down the stairs in a towel with shampoo still in his hair to see what’s up and Meghan will be all “Babe!! Look!! He’s smiling!!” Harry would laugh at Meg’s excitement and exchange an all-too-knowing look with his baby boy - smiling, yeah, okay kiddo, Daddy understands.

Have brought things that he can’t even play with yet? Definitely Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if Archie has his own polo pony somewhere, even though it’ll be 8 years before he can even learn to ride. Meghan’s all about getting age-appropriate toys that are good for his physical, mental, and emotional development while Harry comes home from the store with 15 books because he’s plain excited. Typical Harry.

Have read ahead in the baby book for the next milestones to look for? Neither. They’re both so satisfied with their little lovebug, they’re focusing on the here and now, rather than looking ahead. They know these moments are so precious - first smiles, first laughs, first time he holds their hand - that they’d rather focus on what’s happening right in front of them rather than worry about what is to happen in the future.

Be in charge of filling out the baby book? Meghan. Those things need to be read in the future and Meghan’s handwriting definitely fits the bill. Harry’s chicken scratch leaves much to be desired. Plus, Harry would rather cuddle Archie than worry about filling out more paperwork. So Meghan fills out the baby book, Harry plays with the baby.

Already be thinking about Christmas presents? Can I pick Doria? I pick Doria. When she flew over for the christening, she brought two extra bags just filled with things for her first grandchild’s first Christmas. Meg would roll her eyes - Ma, it’s not for another six months - while Harry would laugh and stash them in a closet until it’s time to wrap them in December.

Just chat to Archie about anything and anyone that comes to mind? Harry. When he’s cleaning up the kitchen while Archie bounces in his high chair, while they’re doing tummy time on the floor, during bathtime, while pushing the stroller around the gardens with the dogs... Harry can’t stop talking to his baby. He read somewhere that babies recognize their parents’ voices even in the womb and now he can’t stop exploring the new little relationship he has developed with this incredibly tiny but oh-so-important person in his life.

Have documented every person’s first meeting with him? I would imagine that they were both so excited the first time each of their friends and family met their little bundle, that they weren’t even thinking of photographs. They were both relishing in the warmth of the moment, in the inherent pride and joy that takes over when you get to introduce someone you love dearly to a life that you helped to create with the love of your life. I can’t imagine they’ve taken many photos of these moments at all, actually.

Volunteered to do the night feed just for extra cuddles? Meghan. She knows Harry is working hard and she loves taking this time to snuggle with her sweet little boy while Daddy gets his rest. Plus, Harry hasn’t let go of Archie since he came home at 3:00pm, and it’s now 2:00 in the morning, so Meg wants to sneak in some extra cuddling before Harry steals Archie away in the morning before work.

To hold him for just a few minutes more, which turns into an hour? Meghan. It’s 3:30 AM and she’s tired to her bones, but Harry has to work in the morning, so she takes the feeding. Archie’s eaten and had his nappy changed and now he’s dozing off, and Meghan just can’t tear her drooping eyes away from her beautiful baby boy. Just a few more minutes, she smiles to herself. Before she knows it, the sun is starting to peak over the horizon. Archie is unconscious in his mummy’s arms, safe and warm and content, and Meghan simply cannot let him go. Not just yet.

Have cried because of how happy they are? Both of them. I can imagine putting Archie to sleep. Mama feeds the baby and rocks him while Harry sings a lullaby in the nursery. They put the baby in the bassinet and look down on him while he snores softly. They look at each other and begin to cry - not sob, but softly cry. They’re so grateful to their spouse, their partner, for giving half of themselves to the amazing, beautiful, innocent baby asleep in front of their very eyes. I can imagine it happens quite often. They’re happy to have each other and they’re happy to have their baby.

Have talked about Archie having a sibling? Henry Charles Albert David has not shut up about having multiple children for the past decade. That man probably said “I want another one” the second they brought Archie home from the hospital because he loves lovin’ on his pregnant wife. Meghan, likely, smacked him with a pillow once he said it, but he can’t resist. He loves talking about his future sons and daughters with Meghan and Archie. He knows that if Archie was an only child, he’d be happy, blessed, even - but he’s more than excited about the prospect of more little bubs in the future.

#my post #harryandmeghansussex #prince harry #duke of sussex #doria ragland #meghan markle #duchess of sussex #archie mountbatten-windsor

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blacknight1230 · 5 years ago

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Second Star to the Right - Chapter 1

Peter Pan Imagine

This was originally posted on my Quotev account, BlackNight1230.

Brianna’s POV:

It was late at night and I couldn’t fall asleep. Ever since my parents separated, with my sister and I staying with my mother and moving to London with her, I haven’t been able to stay asleep for very long. My sister, on the other hand, never seemed to leave her room after mom and dad finalized the divorce. I didn’t want to bug my mother with such a petty problem, especially as I was fifteen, so I walked in my pajamas over to Wendy’s room. Wendy Darling was the owner of the house we were currently in, renting it to my mother. She still lives with us, as it was her childhood home, and probably because she was lonely and needed help being taken care of, so it wasn’t really a problem. I enjoyed her living with us, as she was like a grandmother of a sort, always telling me stories about her childhood and even ones she used to tell to her younger brothers.

I walked up to the door to Wendy’s room, knocking gently on the wooden door. “Who is it?” I heard her croan from inside. “It’s me, Brianna.” I replied. “Come in, my little darling.” I opened the door and strode in, to see Wendy in her bed. Her long white hair falling below her back, wrinkled hands clasping a weathered leather bound book. “Brianna, what are you still doing up?” she asked me. “I couldn’t fall asleep. I was wondering if you could tell me a story in order to help me?” I told her. She smiled and tried to get out of bed. I helped her and fixed her lace nightgown. “Wendy, why do you still wear those nightgowns?” I asked her. “Oh, this. I guess its a force of habit, having worn them as a little girl,” she told me. “Isn’t it annoying, though. I mean doesn’t it get bunched up when you sleep and make you feel cold.” Wendy just chuckled, but ended up coughing. I helped her regain her breath, before we entered my room. I climbed into bed and pulled my sheets up as Wendy sat in a chair next to my bed. “Okay, what story do you want to hear?” Wendy asked when she got comfortable. I thought for a while then said, “Can you tell me about Cinderella and Captain Hook?” She smiled and the story began.

Wendy began the story, I intensely listening, hanging onto every word. “Cinderella flew through the air, far from all things ugly and ordinary. When she landed at the ball, she found herself most imperatively surrounded by pirates,” she began. “There was Alf Mason, so ugly his mother sold him for a bottle of muscat. Bill Jykes, every inch of him tattooed.” She acted out the story with her hands, fully immersing herself in her story telling. “And cruelest of the all ... Hook!” You jumped a bit as she shouted out the dreaded pirate captain’s name, curving a finger of her right hand to represent the man’s namesake. “Eyes blue as forget-me-nots, save for when he clawed your belly with the iron hook he has, instead for his right hand, at which time ... his eyes turn red,” saying the last part slowly.

As Wendy continued on with her story, despite greatly enjoying the fantastic tale, my body started to relax, I slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the covers. When Wendy finally finished the story, I was almost asleep, stuck in between sleep and consciousness. Wendy bent down and kissed my forehead, wishing me a goodnight. I quickly fell asleep, but not before seeing a shadow by the window.

Peter's POV:

Yet again, I was outside the Darling house nursery. Well, where the nursery used to be. Now it seemed to belong to a teenage girl I never saw before. Since my adventures in Neverland with Wendy, I seemed to have aged a little from traveling to and from Neverland to the Darling house over the years. Each time, I brought a new Darling girl to Neverland with me, but eventually had to return them home.

I currently was listening to Wendy tell stories to the new girl. Wendy, now an old lady, was telling the new girl a story about Cinderella fighting Captain Hook. I studied Wendy as the story continued, a frown on my face as I saw how old she had gotten. I could barely recognize her as the brown haired, blue-eyed girl I first brought to Neverland, all those years ago. But the way she enthusiastically told the story and acted it out, was all the prove I needed to see that she was once my Wendy.

As I listened to the story by the window, Tinkerbell sat on my shoulder and spoke into my ear. “You better not fall for this one, too,” said Tink, voice tinkling like a little bell. I shushed my fairy companion, not wanting to attract attention to us. “Come on, Peter. This one will just break your heart, just like Wendy, Jane, and Moira!” Tink huffed, crossing her tiny arms across her chest. I ignored her, not understanding why she was being this way, when I noticed that Wendy was done with her story. The mysterious girl was falling asleep in her bed yet I still stood outside the window and out of sight, until I was sure she was not awake.

I cautiously opened the closed window, trying not to make a sound, and flew into the room once it was high enough. Curious by the weird looking possessions, I walked around the room, studying the photos, posters, and other items. After fiddling with several technological gadgets, I made my way over to the side of the girl’s bed. She was sleeping on her back snuggling a teddy bear.

Looks like she has completely grown up yet, I thought. Maybe it’s possible that she could go to Neverland with me? I studied the young girl's features, entranced by her long lashes that rested on her full cheeks and the way her hair seemed to naturally lay elegantly onto her pillow. I looked a little bit closer and hovered my finger over her lip. In the right hand corner of her mouth, was a hidden kiss.

The girl suddenly started to stir, causing me to pull my finger back. Before I could step away from the side of the bed, she opened her eyes. Her eyes were chocolate brown, seeming to give her an innocent look, and I couldn’t help but be caught in them. Those chocolate brown eyes widened when she saw me above her. I heard her gasp and I flew to a wall for safety. She quickly sat up in her bed, mouth open in shock.

Before I could do anything, I heard a growl and looked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a huge, black wolfish-looking dog. It had its sharp, white teeth bared. It lunged for me and barked with a deep loud bark. Trying to escape the situation, I flew to the window and almost made my escape, but was pulled back by something. The dog caught my shadow! And it was preventing me from flying away!

The dog pulled me back and all I could do was put my hands and feet on the window frame, the only thing preventing me from going back into the room and away from the dogs snapping teeth. Suddenly, the window fell shut, cutting my shadow from me. I was sent flying back into the air, like I was stone shot by a slingshot, and I quickly flew up to the roof before anyone could see me. As I tried to regain my breath and stop my heart from beating out of my chest, I heard some yelling and the dog barking. It suddenly stopped shortly after. When I looked back down at the, the girl was in the backyard below, looking around with a flameless light, a flashlight I think it's called.

The brown haired girl pointed the flashlight up to where I was. I ducked back into the the shadows, cowering for a bit, before shooting off like a comet toward Neverland, Tink faithfully by my side. “Now what are we going to do?” Tink questioned as we flew over the water of Neverland and towards the island. “We’re going to get my shadow back. Tomorrow night.”

#peter pan 2003 imagine #peter pan imagine #disney imagine #disney character imagine #peter pan fanfiction

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uas-fics · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 -Chapter 2 - - Chapter 4

This is the chapter that the abuse and alcoholism content warnings come into play, be aware of that.

Check the first reblog for the Ao3 link

~~~~~~~~

Kenny clung to the pillow like a child with a teddy bear. He slept on his side, snuggled under Stan's blankets. Bandages wrapped around his torso and slowly healing wounds.

His torn bloodsoaked uniform sat in a black trash bag in the closet. There was no saving it. Kenny would need it destroyed at Freedom Pals’ HQ. The last thing anyone wanted was the police investigating why he had tossed bloody clothes into the trash can.

Stan brushed the back of his fingers against Kenny's cheek.

This was not the first time he'd seen Mysterion beaten, bloody, and bruised, but this was the worst he'd seen without Mysterion dying moments later. And the worst he had ever seen since he learned just who Mysterion was.

The skin across his back had been clawed and ripped — deep enough in a few places that Stan could see bone peek through the gashes. Bruises covered his skin, most of them just as bad or worse than the ones Stan received.

"This is all my fault," Leo muttered from the doorway. He hugged himself tighter. "I shouldn't have run to the fence. He wouldn't have overworked his powers if he didn't think we needed saving."

Stan shook his head and stood, wincing from the dull pain in his legs. They would ache, but he knew he could work through it.

"No, it's not your fault. It's Mephesto's. He's the one who made those things." He placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "So, don't beat yourself up about it."

Leo smiled softly. "Thanks."

“Come on. He needs his sleep.” Stan walked past him towards the kitchen. They never did get anything to eat after all the excitement. After a moment, Leo followed him.

Stan scrounged the cabinets for something to cook that might feed himself, Leo, and Kenny. He knew Kenny would be starving when he woke up. Leo pulled out a chair and sat.

"You know, even villains hate Mephesto," Leo commented. "Really, I can't think of a single one who likes him. We all just sort of stand him for the sake of not being on his bad side."

"I’ve seen his labs." Stan shook his head, taking down two boxes of macaroni and cheese. He didn't bother to measure the water, instead just filling the pot as much as he figured would be needed.

"It is horrific what he does." He set the pot on the burner. "The man is a terrible human being."

Leo nodded. "One day, playing God like that will come back to bite him in the ass— all of them."

“We can only hope.”

They lapsed into silence as Stan busied himself. He took a few pieces of cubed steak from his fridge and began to cut them into slices. It might not be the fancy steak Kenny had ordered, but it was better than just plain macaroni and cheese.

When Stan began draining the noodles, Leo finally spoke up again.

"So, how did you and Kenny meet? Hero stuff?" He asked.

Stan looked up from the strainer. "No, at a bar, actually." He turned back to his task before continuing. "I was, uh — I had a drinking problem.”

"Really? I guess the rumors were true then," Leo said.

"Rumors?"

"’ToolShed smells like vodka if you get close.’" Leo replied matter-of-factly. "My minions told me that once."

Stan flinched. "Yeah, I guess that's probably right.” He sighed. “I nearly got kicked out of the hero union for it. It even cost me my relationship.”

A pang hit his stomach as the note Wendy left on his bathroom mirror sprang into his mind’s eye. “I can’t fix you — even if you wanted to be fixed.” it said. The break up made hero work nearly impossible. He had to either hold back swears or tears whenever Call Girl’s name came up.

“Shouldn’t they have stuck with you and helped you through that?” Leo asked. “Sounds like a bad partner to me.”

“No, I understand why Wendy did it. We weren’t right for each other then, and I kept trying to drag us both down. In the future, maybe I could ask Wendy to try again, but I doubt I ever will. It’d be weird at this point.”

“Anyway, Kenny was a regular at the bar I would go to,” he continued. “He flirted playfully with everyone, so I didn't actually think anything of it when he flirted with me."

He set the noodles aside to tend to the strips of beef. "But, then, everything with Wendy and some other shit went down in my life, and it triggered a really bad depressive episode. When I get those, I fall back into my old habits. So once when I was trying to drink the emptiness away, I asked Kenny if he was serious about his flirting and wanted to come home with me."

Stan began to pour the noodles from the strainer back into the heavy saucepan then reached for the cheese powder mix and tub of butter.

"I'm guessin’ he was," Leo commented.

“Actually, no." Stan turned with a frown. "He told me he just wanted to make sure I got home safe. Then I started crying in the middle of the street and the next thing I know I'm waking up and Kenny's picked up the trash around my house." He shook his head. "I had the first cooked meal in a week that day because of him."

Leo grinned. "That sounds like somethin’ he'd do alright."

Stan shut his eyes, smiling at himself. "Yeah, he came back every night that week to make sure I was ok. Me, a guy from the bar he barely knew. It was pretty nice to be reminded that I was cared about."

He shook off his nostalgia, opened his eyes, and returned back to his task.

"After I got out of my funk, I spent more time with him, and we started dating, then a few months later, he asked if I would mind if he started dating you, too."

"And that didn't bother you at all?" Leo asked.

Stan waved his spoon around. "Nah, not really. I was in an open relationship in college with my roommates for a while. As long as Kenny was honest with me about it, I don’t mind at all."

"Huh, that's interestin’." Leo let out a breath through his nose. "Do you want to know how Kenny and I met? Well, became friends is a better way to put it."

Stan stiffened. "You don't need to tell me just because I told you. Kenny mentioned it was a delicate subject, your past, so if you don't feel comfortable, we can talk about something else."

"No, it's alright," Leo said. "You said you wanted to be part of my support system, didn't you? So, you should probably know this."

"Let me dish us up something first."

Stan finished preparing dinner. He went to get two plates and forks then piled the beefy macaroni and cheese onto them.

He slid one plate across to Leo.

"Thank you," Leo nodded but didn't eat. Stan swallowed a forkful before Leo continued.

"I think you probably remember my honey weapon," Leo began.

"I do," Stan nodded. "You wanted to get back at the mayor for something."

"Sort of. He had signed a bill allowing construction of an area in the older part of city. Some people I knew had honey boxes near there since the place had so many flowers and natural beehives. Construction would destroy all that, so I wanted to just...scare him a little into relentin’." Leo shrugged. "I don't like to hurt people, Stan, unless they deserve it."

Stan just made a sound of agreement to get Leo to continue. He didn't dare try to argue about the morality of his statement.

"So I made a big, ol’ machine to scare him. Paid Mephesto to clone me a bunch of bees and went out to buy yellow dye and corn syrup to fill the machine," Leo went on. "Anyway, on that day I was plannin’ it, I saw someone I didn't ever think I'd see again." Leo took a shaking breath. "My dad."

"You said earlier you hate him," Stan recalled.

"I do. He's...awful." Leo clenched his eyes shut. "He'd hit me or ground me for no reason. I'd be locked in my room for weeks, only allowed to go out to use the bathroom, eat, or go to school. I just had to sit there, kept away from everything because I made some little mistake that he would blow out of proportion. The record was for two whole months." A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "When I was taken away from my parents, I figured I'd never had to see him again. Legally, he can't get within sixty feet."

His eyes opened again, filled with memories of abuse and sorrow.

"But that day, right before my plan was about to start, I saw him. I still don't know why he was here since he and Mom moved back to Hawaii, but he was." Leo shivered. "My plan fell apart because of that. I couldn't get my mind off that he would see me back. That he would come marchin’ up and yell 'Butters! Look at what you did! You're grounded, young man! Go to your room! You're gonna get it when I get home!'"

Stan reached across the table and set a hand on his. Leo turned his hand to lace their fingers together. Stan didn't pull away. He wasn’t sure if Leo had even noticed he did the action at all.

"So, then, I get trapped in the cockpit with Mysterion, and I panicked. I was so scared that that was my punishment and Dad would come to hurt me like he used to." Leo's eyes welled up with tears. "When Mysterion saw what was happening, he comforted me and told me, promised me, that if my dad ever came close to me again, he'd personally punch his lights out."

Leo shook his head, looking up. "I never forgot that kindness. I tracked Mysterion down after that and thanked him. We got to talkin’, and he told me about his own shitty childhood and, I don't know, we just made a connection."

Stan squeezed their joined hands. "He has a way of doing that with people. Of all the heroes I know, he's the one with the most compassion."

Leo laughed. "Y-yeah." Then he seemed to notice their hands. His cheeks turned pink as he pulled his hand away. He snatched up his fork and shoveled food into his mouth.

Stan looked at his palm. He made a fist once then looked back up at Leo, who refused to meet his eyes.

"You can keep holding my hand if it makes you feel better," he offered with his hand set palm side up.

Leo swallowed his mouthful and eyed his hand. His gaze flicked back up to Stan, who nodded before he switched his fork to his other hand and set his palm on top of Stan's.

His fingers brushed the skin of Stan’s wrist. They were more calloused than a business man’s hand had any right to be, though Stan’s were much worse.

“Stan, I’m sorry,” Leo said suddenly. “I’m sorry I stepped on you back on the roof. I can’t say I didn’t mean harm, because I really did, but, well, I acted without listenin’ to you like I promised I would.”

Stan bit down on his tongue to stop the ‘it’s ok’ that pressed against his teeth. That was not ‘ok’. His chest still hurt a little from that.

Instead, he replied, “I understand why you did it. You thought Kenny broke your trust and acted out of anger.”

“Yeah,” Leo sighed, “but that doesn’t mean I ain’t sorry for it now. Could you forgive me?”

He relented, “Yeah, I can. Just don’t do it again—at least, not when I’m out of the uniform.” Stan tacked on that last part as a joke, though Leo’s face didn’t look amused.

“Alright. I promise. I won’t hurt you when you’re not ‘ToolShed’.”

His tone was completely serious. ‘Stan’ was safe from ‘Chaos,’ but that safety did not extend to ‘ToolShed.’

It was odd to Stan. He knew Kenny liked to think Mysterion was, in a way, a different person from him. From what he was told, Leo felt the same way towards Chaos.

Stan and ToolShed did not have that same disconnect. They were one and the same. The idea that wearing his uniform or using his powers openly gave his persona a life of his own was too foreign to Stan.

“Thank you,” Stan replied, unsure what else to say. After a beat, he asked, “Leo, can I ask you a question?”

Leo nodded. “Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

“Would you really have outed Kenny to the criminal underworld?” He tensed. Did he even want to know the answer to this, or would it cause him more undue worry?

A breath escaped Leo’s lips. He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“No, I wouldn't,” He admitted after a time. “Kenny and I are too deep into this for me to throw him under the bus like that. Even if he betrayed me, I wouldn’t be able to.” He shook his head. “I know how villains think. The second that information got out to them, Kenny would be imprisoned and tortured. I could never do that to him.”

Stan relaxed. “Thank you. That’s good to hear.” He slid his hand back a little so he could wrap his fingers around Leo’s. “What about me? Will you keep my secret?”

Leo smiled softly. He raised his finger to his lips. “You’re still on a trial basis, but, for now, mums the word for both of us.”

Stan wanted to ask how long the ‘trial basis’ would last, but held back. Somehow he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be too long at all.

~~~~~~~

Kenny woke up to the sound of music. He blinked hard as a slant of sunlight hit his face. He reached to grab the pillow from under his head to pull over his eyes. Only, when he did, he found something restricting around his chest.

He pushed himself up and looked at the bandages across his torso.

"Oh, right," He muttered, picking at them. He winced as he recalled the night before. Where Stan and Leo still around? Had Leo gone home? Where was his uniform?

Kenny swung his legs off the bed and stood. His body popped and snapped like a roll of bubble wrap. Rolling his bare shoulders, Kenny followed the music down the hall. He paused at the kitchen then slipped inside there first.

Healing took a lot out him, and his stomach refused to be ignored when the prospect of food was within reach.

Opening the refrigerator, Kenny found a pan of macaroni and cheese. Without thinking twice, he pulled the cold pan out. Using the serving spoon left on the counter, he shoved a few spoonfuls into his mouth.

Sighing contently, Kenny took the pan with him to find the source of the music.

Stan sat on one end of the couch, his attention on Leo. Stan's guitar was in Leo's hands as he picked a short riff.

"See? I told you, anyone can play 'Smoke On The Water.'" Stan smiled. "Just, here..." he moved Leo's hands on the neck, "there, perfect."

"Wow, guess I getta add guitar to instruments I know how to play, huh?" Leo laughed, playing the riff again.

Seeing his chance to cut in, Kenny leaned over the back of the couch in between the two of them and commented around a mouth of macaroni noodles, "I can only play two instruments, the recorder and the skin flute. Guess which one I'm better at."

"Kenny!" His boyfriends gasped.

"That's me." Kenny ate another spoonful.

"Dude, are you ok? You looked bad yesterday." Stan crawled on his knees. He set a hand gently across his back.

"Never better." Kenny set the nearly empty pan down on the floor. "Sorry for worrying you two. I went a little overboard taking down those mutants, and it took too much out of me to do a quick heal.”

Leo shook his head as he set the guitar aside. "We're just glad you're ok."

Kenny hopped over the back of the couch, landing between them. The velvet-like fabric of the couch rubbed comfortably against his legs.

"Guess we have to talk now." He smiled apologetically at Leo. "Sorry I didn't tell you Stan figured it out. I didn't want you worrying or trying to investigate him. I couldn't have him in danger if you found out who he was and, uh, you know, was a little miffed about it."

Leo waved his hand. "No, it's ok. Stan explained everything to me." He held his arms out for a hug, which Kenny quickly gave. After a heartbeat, he turned, still half in Leo's arms, and pulled Stan into the hug as well.

Stan chuckled but didn't resist, instead wrapping his arms around them both.

Kenny felt incredibly comfortable with their warm arms wrapped around him. If this was how they would react to him getting hurt without dying, maybe the pain was worth it.

When they all pulled apart, Kenny felt a whimper creep up his throat. He forced it down as Leo stood.

"I actually need to get to work. I've been avoiding it until you woke up. Are you going to be ok?" He asked.

Kenny nodded. "I've taken way worse than that plenty of times. A few of them from you, actually."

Leo pressed a kiss to his lips. Kenny raised his arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

When he took a step away, Leo looked reluctant, which was Kenny's plan. As selfish as it might be, he wanted his boys to spend more time together with him. Their plans yesterday were such a disaster, it was only fair, Kenny reasoned.

Unfortunately, Leo shook his reluctance off.

"Will you be here tonight? May I come back?" Leo asked.

Kenny opened his mouth, but Stan beat him to it. "You can come by whenever, Leo. Even if Kenny has to head to his apartment."

Kenny raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk on his face. From the stories Stan told to him, Stan fell fast and he fell hard. Clearly, those stories were not exaggerations.

Seeing his smirk, Stan pushed him over.

"Seriously, if you ever need to talk, dude, you can call or drop by," Stan told Leo with a smile.

Leo paused, then grinned. "That sounds swell, Stan! I'll drop by tonight, to check up on you both!"

The moment the front door shut, Kenny leaned against Stan's shoulder and teased in a sing-song voice, "You like him!"

Stan didn't argue. Instead, he looked down at his lap. "I don't know. He's...interesting. I do think you're right. Leo is a good person and doesn't want to hurt people. The world and his family failed him, so he feels the only way he can help is to do things his own way."

"'Family'?" Kenny echoed. "Did he tell you about...him?"

"His dad?" Stan nodded. "Yeah, he did, after I told him how we met."

Kenny raised both his eyebrows. Stan didn't like to talk much about that time in his life: His grandfather had recently passed, he and Wendy broke up, his finances were in rough shape, and his dad’s mocking for his life choices had been eating at him worse than ever. It all culminated with his depression kicking into high gear and dragging him down.

He remembered when Stan responded to his flirting by drunkenly grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the bar door, slurring, "Let's see whatcha got, lover boy."

They made all of a block and a half when Stan suddenly broke down into tears and sobbed out all his problems to Kenny. He let Stan cry on his shoulders, then, after Stan vomited up the solitary cup of noodles in his stomach, Kenny took him home.

It probably wasn't Kenny's place to do more than get Stan to his couch, but something inside him took pity on Stan and he stayed around to make sure he would be alright anyway.

Kenny considered it one of his better knee-jerk decisions.

"Did you tell him that to get him to trust you?" Kenny asked.

He raised a shoulder. "I don't know. He asked how we met, and it just tumbled out." Stan sighed. "Kenny, if you feel like you can, answer me this. Is what Leo said about his dad, well, is it true?"

"Yeah," Kenny nodded his head. "When Leo told me his full name, I went and check the police records. I loved him, but I still didn't fully trust him, at the time, you know? Well, I found what I was looking for: Stephen and Linda Stotch were both charged with physical child abuse as well as several other charges of child neglect and endangerment around the time Leo was sixteen. From what I know, he was taken away to live in foster care until he aged out."

"I see," Stan breathed. "And you're only telling me this in detail now because you know I'll go look it up myself, right?"

Kenny smiled softly. "Maybe a little.” His face fell. “Seeing or reading about the horrors done by supervillains, well, you'd think it would numb you to the ones done by normal people, but it really doesn't. It just makes you more sickened."

He took a breath, then slung his arm over Stan's shoulders. "But it'll be alright now. Leo's got two good buddies to support him through thick and thin."

"Yeah, I guess so." Stan slipped an arm around his waist and half-hugged him, nuzzling into his hair.

"Hey, Kenny, you know you're only in your underwear, right?" Stan asked suddenly.

Kenny looked down at his near nakedness then nodded. "I know, and I don't plan on changing that fact."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Just making sure."

~~~~~

Numbers had never been a confusing topic for Leo. At their basic forms, they were consistent and made sense. One plus one would always equal two. No number could be divided by zero. An even number multiplied by another even number would be even as well.

Numbers just made sense to Leo, but not so much for Dougie.

Dougie scratched his red curls, staring down at the paper. He tapped his glasses with his pencil.

“Is the answer...forty-eight?” He asked.

Leo chuckled. “Close? It’s two-hundred-fifty-three.”

Dougie groaned, and Leo patted his shoulder. Looking over Dougie’s math, Leo tried to find the point where he messed up. He took the pencil.

“Look, you didn’t work these fractions out correctly. That’s where the problem is.” Leo circled the incorrect fraction then began to scribble the correction under Dougie’s work.

“When do I even need math? I’m going to be a reporter!” Dougie muttered.

“I’m sure reporters need math sometimes.” Leo set the pencil down. “Besides, if reporters don’t, then generals do.”

Dougie sighed. “Yeah, guess so.”

The doorbell rang.

Leo hopped to his feet, grinning. Dougie raised an eyebrow but didn’t have time to comment. Leo had already left the room.

Two months had passed since the incident with the rhino mutant. In that time, Stan had been coming over often to teach him guitar.

Usually, after their lesson, they would go out. Leo wasn’t sure if Stan saw this as a date. He hoped he did since that was how Leo had been seeing it.

Stan shouldered his guitar in its case when Leo opened the door. With summer just around the bend, his clothes were a lightweight shirt and shorts. Though the bruises from the ladder had long since healed, a few new ones dotted across his legs.

One bruise, in particular, was shaped very much like a hand, right above his ankle. Probably from one of the Raisins’ Girls. ToolShed had gotten into a nasty fight with the group of womanly criminals last week.

Leo wanted to confirm his theory but held his tongue. Stan might not like knowing that Leo had been keeping tabs on his hero activities. Leo wasn’t keeping an eye on him for any bad reason. He just wanted to make sure none of his fellow villains played too tough with his newest friend and crush.

“Hey, dude, sorry I’m late.” Stan narrowed his eyes. “Someone went through and cleared away all the street signs and road lines. Traffic is a mess.”

Leo hummed. “Oh, is that what happened? Seems pretty dastardly, huh? Maybe people should learn not to park in no-parking zones and box other people in.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “ That’s why you did that? That’s pretty petty, dude.”

“It’s not petty. I was late for a meet up with some old friends.” Leo frowned, then added a beat later, “Not that I would know anything about how the road lines went missing. That’s a total mystery to me.”

Stan seemed to hold back another comment before deciding to let the topic drop. Unlike Kenny, who would work to keep any villain business out of their civilian conversations, Stan had no problem calling out Leo for Chaos’ doings.

“You ready for your lesson?” Stan asked instead, raising his shoulder with the strap over it.

“Heck yeah! I’ve been praticin’ a real lot since last time.” Leo beamed while ushering Stan through the door.

Stan nodded. “Yeah, you sent me that recording on Tuesday. You’re really getting better.”

When they entered the living room, Dougie had already packed up his things. He looked up at Leo, before moving to stare Stan. He furrowed his brow. Leo tensed.

While Chaos and ToolShed never had any one-on-one battles, General Disarray and ToolShed had many. Leo glanced at Stan out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he recognized Dougie as well.

“Um, hi,” Dougie waved slightly then put his last book back in his bag. “Are you...Stan? ”

Of course, Dougie would make the connection with Leo's excitement about his visitor and the Stan that Leo had been gushing about. Dougie was sharp like that, which was why he made a perfect general.

“Yeah, hey.” Stan took a few steps forward, holding out his hand.

“Dougie.” Dougie took his hand. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat.” He shouldered his backpack up. “I’m meeting up with some friends.”

“It was nice to meet you.” Stan stepped aside to let Dougie by.

When Dougie passed Leo, he glanced up at him with his eyebrows knit together behind his glasses. Leo just smiled and shrugged. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get a text later asking for confirmation on Stan’s double identity. Leo didn't like lying to his second in command, but he promised to keep Stan's secret.

Dougie suspected Kenny might be more than he seems already. Thanks to personality differences between Kenny and Mysterion, Dougie hadn't quite gotten that far into figure it out. Stan, on the other hand, looked and acted a lot more like ToolShed.

Honestly, it still baffled Leo how Kenny hadn't seen it.

The front door shut as Leo wandered towards the couch.

“Dougie’s an old friend. I was helping him with his homework.”

“That’s General Disarray.” Stan frowned as he took a seat. “I knew he was young, but, geez, he’s practically a baby.”

Leo snorted. “I don’t know about Disarray, but Dougie is a junior in college, only five years younger than me. He just has a young face is all.”

“A junior? Ok, he’s a toddler then.” Stan set his guitar in his lap. “A toddler who nearly shoved me into a pit of molten rock once.”

“I heard Disarray still feels bad about that. He didn’t want to kill you,” Leo said.

Neither Disarray or Chaos had ever actually killed anyone permanently. They didn’t ever plan to either. Dougie had told him in that rush of emotion, pushing ToolShed back was the first thing his brain came up with. If he wasn’t fighting for his life, he wouldn’t have done it.

“Feel free to tell him he can apologize for that at any time.” Stan unzipped the case. “Go grab your instrument so we can get started.”

The lesson lasted an hour or so before dissolving into idle chit-chat.

Stan rested against the arm of the couch, plucking his guitar strings absentmindedly. His hands were masterful, and Leo couldn’t help but be in awe. When Leo played, he still had to look down at his fingers to make sure they were in the right place, but Stan could play with his eyes shut.

For a moment, Leo considered fishing out his flute. It was somewhere in the back of one of his closets. Would Stan be impressed by that or would he think Leo was a dork? Could he even play the flute well anymore? It had been years since he last touched it.

“Leo,” Stan cut into his thoughts, “I should head out.”

“Oh, already?” He looked at his phone for the time. “Do you want to go grab something to eat first?”

Stan shook his head. “No, with how the traffic looks, if I don’t leave now, there is no way I’m getting home before midnight.”

A pang of guilt hit Leo’s stomach. When he sent his minions to powerwash and cover the signs and road lines, it seemed like such a mild crime. It’s not like anyone would be really hurt—just inconvenienced. He had even given his non-Chaos employees the day off so they wouldn’t be bothered.

Leo lunged forward, grabbing Stan’s wrist.

“You can stay here if you want. Stay the night!” He blurted out.

Stan stared down at his wrist, his mouth opening once, then shutting, before opening again.

“How do you mean ‘stay the night’?” he asked finally.

Leo’s cheeks began to burn. He didn’t know how to answer. Just because he had a crush on Stan, did not mean the reverse was true. For all he knew, Stan’s friendship was given to him because he wanted to protect Kenny.

He prayed that wasn’t true, though.

Leo swallowed. “It means whatever you want it to.”

Stan looked into his face, expressionless. Leo wanted to look away. Instead of that, he channeled some of his confidence from Chaos to help him hold his ground.

With a flick of his wrist, Stan pulled his arm out of Leo’s grasp. Leo pulled his hand back, looking away.

Great, he fucked up. As he thought, Stan was only doing this for Kenny’s sake.

Maybe he should consider himself lucky. He’s clicked this closely with only a few people in his life, and the fact most of them had clicked back was a blessing in and of itself.

Stan set his guitar off the side of the couch then scooted over. He pressed his hand on the other arm, pinning Leo in.

A look of nervous indecision crossed his face. He chewed his lip a moment then finally let out a sigh. His breath ghosted across Leo’s face. It smelled like he’d forgotten to brush, but Leo didn’t mention it.

Stan lowered himself down farther, their faces barely an inch apart. His eyes flicked to Leo, who gave the smallest nod, then he closed the gap.

Fireworks went off in Leo’s head. Stan liked him back. This was the best news! With any luck, this was also the answer to his offer to stay the night. Leo’s ears began to burn as the fantasy of what the night could entail jumped into his mind’s eye.

He forced the thoughts away, trying to focus solely on the hear and now.

Stan’s lips were sweet and gentle, and it took most of Leo’s control not to greedily try to hold him closer. He did, however, raise a hand to his cheek, brushing along his sideburns with his fingertips.

Just as he was really starting to enjoy the feeling of their lip’s contact, Stan pulled away.

“That was good,” Leo smiled, “really good.”

Stan winced. Leo’s smile fell from his face.

“What? Didn’t you like it?”

“I feel bad,” Stan muttered. “I feel really, really bad.”

“W-why?” Leo's shoulders slumped. The kiss had been great for Stan, too, hadn’t it? No one else Leo had ever kissed complained he was a bad kisser. A few of them even told him he had a knack for it!

“Because I like you,” Stad sighed, “like, a lot. I know I shouldn’t. You do terrible things. You break the law. Maybe Kenny can see you as two people, but I can’t. You’re one person to me. One sweet, kind person who also does bad things.”

“Oh,” Leo bit down on his lip a moment, “I’m...I’m sorry, Stan.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand, though. Chaos, I need him. Without him, I feel powerless when everything goes wrong. He’s the ‘me' who fixes the problems I can’t, even if he has to break the law to do it. I can’t do that. Leo can’t do that.”

Stan fell back, his knees brushing Leo’s leg. “You’re right. I don’t understand. I doubt I ever could.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Leo, is there anything Kenny and I could ever do to help you get to a point where you don’t need Chaos? Or are we both wasting our time even trying?”

Leo flinched back. That question was heavy. His heart pounded in his ears.

He wanted to drop the topic like hot coals. If it was Kenny here, the topic wouldn’t have even come up in the first place.

But this isn’t Kenny. This is Stan. Stan held him completely accountable, no matter which persona he was.

“I...I don’t...” Leo trailed off. “Maybe?” He heaved a sigh. “Stan, listen, being with Kenny already has lessen my, um, dependency on Chaos, but, oh, gosh, this is hard to explain.” He bumped his knuckles together. “I guess, there is a possibility that one day I won’t need Chaos anymore. That I can handle my problems with the world on my own, but I don’t know when that would be.”

Where those the words he needed to say? God, he hoped so.

Stan looked down at his hands then back up at Leo. “You won’t need to handle your problems on your own, you know. We’re here to help you with that. That’s the whole point of a support system, to help you with that weight on your shoulders.”

Leo looked up at him in surprise, then looked down at his hands. His head swirled with emotions.

He wanted this to stop. This wasn’t a problem Leo could fight, but he didn’t want Chaos to fight this either.

He knew the Chaos Solution would involve being coy and cruel and dancing around the topic until Stan got annoyed with him and stormed out. The Chaos Solution would only make things worse.

He clenched his hands into fists.

No, no, that was the whole problem wasn’t it? Stan had already torn back the curtain on that.

‘Leo’ and ‘Chaos’ weren’t two different people. They were both him. Leopold Stotch and Professor Chaos were one and the same. Completely and totally.

A shudder ran through his body and a lump crawled up his throat.

It felt wrong to say that after all these years of avoiding it. Chaos, in the end, was just a mask. Leo hid behind the helmet and cape like a blanket from the world that wanted to hurt him. Chaos couldn’t be hurt. Chaos was strong and righteous, even if the world didn’t understand his way of thinking.

If Leo took off the mask, he would be defenseless. No better than a stray cat fighting a steamroller. The world would flatten him, and there would be nothing Leo could do about it.

He truly did need Chaos to feel safe — that was a fact.

A warm hand fell on his forearm. Leo jerked his head up then felt the tears fall off his cheeks onto his fists.

Stan stared at him, eyes sparking with worry.

“Leo, are you ok?” He squeezed.

His touch was too reassuring and kind. Leo hated it. He hated that he felt this way, so raw and scared.

Worst of all, this was all his fault. He let Stan in, all the while stupidly thinking that he could bring him as much happiness as Kenny had. Why was he so stupid like that? How pathetic...

No, not pathetic.

Greedy.

Leo wanted more than he deserved. The World, God, Fate, whatever controlled the universe, made it very clear he didn’t deserve affection. Not from his parents, not from Kenny, not from Stan.

He was a bad and broken person, and bad and broken people didn't deserve to be loved by anyone.

All of his feelings towards Stan and all of his wasted time building a relationship with Kenny were just salt in the wound.

“G-Get out,” Leo choked through the clenching in his throat. “Leave now and don’t ever try to talk to me again.”

Stan withdrew his hand, frowning. “Leo, I’m sorry that—”

“I said get out!” Leo shouted, nostrils flaring. He scrambled to his feet. If he was taller than Stan, then he had more power, and that power would keep him safe.

“Get the fuck out of my house and my life. Right now!” He shouted.

Stan’s face fell then twisted to confusion, before morphing into anger. Rolling off the couch, he got to his feet.

“Fine.” He growled. Barely restrained rage punctuated the word as he grabbed his guitar case and instrument. Without placing it back inside the safety of its case, Stan stormed out.

Leo’s body remained tense until he heard the door slam shut. He slumped back down on the couch, feeling more scared and vulnerable than he had in a long time.

~~~~~~~~

AN: one more chapter. :)

#sp bunny #stenny #kenny mccormick #Butters Stotch #stan marsh #fanfiction #stutters #the fractured but whole #super hero au #multi-chapter #A Good Person

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jordan202 · 6 years ago

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My Boys: Beyond the Horizon - Chapter 18

Hey guys, here goes the penultimate chapter of this story :) thanks to everyone who’s stuck till this point!

Link to previous chapters is HERE

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon – Chapter Eighteen

JD tried to pay attention as two junior girls did their best to hold his attention with small talk and flattery as the group waited next to a vending machine in the school external patio, but all his eyes could focus on was the way Megan Hunt was nearly smashing something that resembled a label maker as she organized three stacks of paper and properly tagged them using the tool she had.

For some reason, the prospect of teasing her and invariably get into yet another discussion with Megan excited the boy more than listening to two girls shower him with compliments in order to hold his attention. Excusing himself, JD nonchalantly left both juniors behind and walked towards the table Megan was occupying.

The outdoor area was nearly empty at that early hour in the morning, with only a few students hanging back to finish a cup of coffee or chocolate before the first class. It was unusual to see Megan without her parade of best friends and fans all around her, which was also why JD couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He supposed that the people who usually hung out with the girl had already gone to their classrooms whilst she had stayed back, which was uncommon as well considering how she was often one of the first ones to arrive to class, sometimes even twenty minutes before it was set to begin.

As he approached the girl, JD could tell she was tenser than usual, which could explain the way she was violently handling the object in hand. This time around, he couldn’t think of something he might have done to set her off like that, but it was better to be careful anyway.

“Are you trying to label your fingers?” JD smirked as he took the seat in front of her without the need for an invitation. “Because you’re one step away from gluing them to those papers.”

He watched as Megan smashed the object a few times more, properly labeling whatever it was she was organizing before taking a breath and then finally bringing up her eyes to look at him. JD had noticed that organizing things was a way for her to deal with stress and he found it quite amusing.

“What do you want?”

Her dry remark sounded more resentful than he would usually associate with the girl, but JD took it as a wrong impression. After all, nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them over the last few days.

“You’re skipping first period?” he asked with curiosity. It was very much like him to cut class or be late for it, but not Megan.

Since the girl didn’t answer his question, settling instead for resuming her task, JD could only assume he had indeed done something to get to her nerves. He was just having a hard time remembering what exactly.

Megan remained in silence, hoping that her response would make him go away. JD Callaghan, his provocations and the way he was always trying to set her off had already cost her too much. It had been a couple of days and she still didn’t understand why Aaron was so jealous of the guy, considering how much she didn’t like him.

“What is it? You’re unusually quiet today,” he pointed out with a pestering grin. “You’re not going bite me back? Are you sick?” JD asked with a silly smirk, finding her behavior very unusual. “Oh, I know! Did you have a fight with Softie? Is that why you’re acting so weird?”

He noticed he’d hit the right nail on the head when Megan immediately raised her eyes and furiously looked back at him.

“Don’t you dare talk about Aaron,” she demanded.

JD noticed that her reaction seemed exaggerated for the comment he’d just made. The boy had made fun of her boyfriend several times before and even though it had always bothered Megan, reason why he kept doing it, never had it earned such an icy, resentful response.

The teenage boy narrowed his eyes, trying to think through the situation. It was obvious something had happened between Megan and the guy, or else she wouldn’t be so upset. And she seemed especially angry with him, so there was a good chance his name had been involved as well.

Almost instantly, JD thought back about the week before and the teasing in the locker room. He’d heard that after his incident with Megan in the mud, some of the guys in the football team had made fun of their quarterback by insinuating that his girlfriend might be changing offense for defense. Usually, JD would add fuel to the fire but he knew that if he went through with the provocation, it would probably make things worse or even really upset Megan. So he’d asked his teammates to stop, but it was very likely Aaron Cole hadn’t been pleased with the situation from the very beginning.

Some guys had even gone as far as to say that Aaron was jealous of JD because he was a more successful player and got more attention from others.

Yet now, looking at the blue-eyed girl with a thunderous expression on her face and that cute stubborn nose, JD realized that Aaron had to be a damned fool to actually believe he was a runner up at something that really mattered.

It was Aaron who was the lucky one and he had to be an idiot not to know it.

“You know what, why don’t you go back to your girlfriends and leave me alone?” Megan asked, feeling her throat constricted. She’d noticed that both girls who’d been with JD before were sitting on a table across the patio, but wouldn’t stop throwing glances in their direction. Megan didn’t want to deal with him right now because everything he represented and had caused was too confusing and too painful. JD had already cost her relationship with Aaron and that had left her heartbroken. She didn’t need him to cause any more problems.

“You’re being especially sour today, but I know you’re craving my company,” JD flashed a smile, knowing he was provoking her.

Megan saw the way his green eyes sparkled as he smiled and she hated herself for noticing it. JD rarely smiled, for he was always teasing and torturing her. But whenever he did, she couldn’t help but think he had one of the most beautiful smiles she’d ever seen and the realization tormented her, drowning Megan in a spiral of guilt and self shame she didn’t know how to get out of.

“I am craving your company?” she heard herself saying in a bitter tone, one she didn’t remember ever using before. Megan was tired of people accusing her of that. She rejected the idea with every fiber of her being. “You are insufferable! That’s why no one is friends with you,” Megan exploded, irrationally taking out on him all her built up anger and confusing at her unresolved and much too strong feelings. “If even your parents didn’t want you around, why would I?”

The words left her mouth before Megan could think them through, but the moment she heard her voice, the girl instantly regretted having said them.

The shock was stamped on her face and Megan grew paler. It was as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just said, but at the same time the girl was so scandalized that she froze, unable to rectify herself.

“JD, I am sorry, I didn’t…”

“You’re right,” the boy replied as he got up. Megan noticed he didn’t seem furious as she expected him to be, but rather merely disappointed. The realization made her loathe herself and her cruel attitude even more. “I am sorry I bothered you.”

“JD, wait, I didn’t mean to…” Megan tried to follow him, but the minute she left the table, the loud bell announcing the beginning of the first morning term rang, giving Megan no choice other than gathering her things while hoping that JD would show up at music class later that day.

Thomas knocked on the familiar suburban door, anxiously checking his wristwatch. It was very early in the day, but since it was a weekday and the lights on the kitchen were on, he knew people in it were probably up and getting ready for work.

“Tom, hey,” Jo Wilson seemed surprised to find the young man standing on her doorway at eight in the morning but that didn’t prevent her from smiling at his unexpected appearance. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is good,” Thomas replied with a relaxed smile. Jo could tell by the serenity in his eyes that he was doing a lot better than during their last encounters. “I know it’s not exactly the best moment of the day, but is there any chance I can see Kate?”

“She is sleeping in her bedroom, but go ahead and make yourself at home,” Jo cleared the way for him to get inside the house. Thomas had knocked on her door looking for her daughter so many times before in a lifetime that she didn’t feel the need to guide him inside. “Alex and I are leaving for work but she will be happy to see you.”

“Say hi to Dr. Karev for me,” Thomas nodded as Jo Wilson left, glad she wasn’t asking him any questions about why he wasn’t at the hospital performing his duties as an intern like he was supposed to.

Thomas waited on purpose until he heard a car noise leaving the garage and made his way to the upper floor of the house. Very silently, he opened the door to Kate’s childhood bedroom.

The lights were off but from the little he could see, Thomas noticed that just like he remembered, everything was decorated in gentle tones of lavender and white. Next to Kate’s study desk, a pin board was still hanging on the wall, except now it had several more pictures and notes added to it than last time the boy had been there.

And on the opposite end of the room, snuggled between a pillow and a teddy bear Thomas identified as one he’d given her for a random Valentine’s Day, Kate slept peacefully in her old bed.

Unable to contain a smile, Tom approached her, carefully inspecting every detail on her face. Kate was always so energetic and relentless during the day that sometimes he forgot how knocked down by sleep she could get – and how radically her features would change then. Looking at her now, she seemed almost ordinary, but only Thomas could attest how much of a true force of nature the girl could become whenever she set her mind to something. Kate was her own person and she made no apologies for it. And that was one of the reasons why he’d been in love with her forever.

Not really planning what he was doing, Thomas took off his jacket and shoes and joined her in bed, gently sliding on the covers.

A sharp mind drifted between consciousness and sleep as chestnut eyes struggled to open, ultimately remaining wide alert to look back at him.

“I am sorry,” Thomas mumbled against her shoulder as he wrapped one arm around Kate’s waist, being promptly held back. There were probably a thousand ways he could start that conversation but right now, those words seemed the most fitting. “I didn’t get it before but I get it now,” he affirmed, holding her so tightly in his arms almost as if afraid he would lose her again.

Kate ran a hand through the soft locks of his silver blonde hair and smiled with a mix of satisfaction, happiness and love. She had definitely been caught off guard and was still trying to regain all her senses, so the girl couldn’t understand exactly what was going on. But whatever had happened to prompt that change in Thomas, she definitely approved of.

“I know,” she turned her face in the darkness and kissed his forehead longingly, yearning just the same to have him near again.

Thomas stayed in silence for the next minutes, enjoying the soothing touch of her fingertips on his head as Kate caressed his hair. The side of his face was resting on her chest because everything about Kate, from her smell to her warmth was so familiar and just damn amazing that he didn’t want to let go.

“Kate,” Thomas finally gathered the strength to partially raise his head and meet her eyes with his. His voice faltered a bit as he obviously hesitated, but ultimately, the intern finally managed to say it, “I talked to my dad yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Kate smiled positively, instantly picking up that said conversation had probably been the game changer in his behavior. Instead of acting defensively and pushing her away, this time around, Thomas had come looking for her and he was obviously interested in making things work between them again. Moreover, his expression seemed less uptight and in a way, even his smile was more relaxed, reminding her of the same old Thomas who she’d known and loved all her life.

“He’s helped me see things,” Thomas summed up. Reaching out for Kate’s hand, he gave it a squeeze before kissing it and bringing it against his chest. “I am so sorry that you left without me,” he breathed out slowly. Kate knew he was talking about her trip to Europe. “But I couldn’t go with you.”

Kate noticed that at the moment he spoke the words, a single tear started to form in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” she said, taking both hands to the sides of his face and gently stroking his hair. “I know that…”

“I wrote you an email every day,” Thomas confessed, feeling a clog forming in his throat when confronted with her understanding. He wasn’t lying, he had indeed written a bunch of emails. “But I never sent them.”

Kate frowned, processing the information.

“Why didn’t you?”

Thomas slowly got up, sitting on the bed against the bedframe as Kate did the same. He needed to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing with his explanation.

“I don’t know, Katie… I guess… I guess I thought you were maybe doing too well without me and I wasn’t,” he finally met her eyes again. “I wasn’t doing well at all alone in Boston, but then I got your emails and your postcards and I thought… Well, maybe you are good without me,” he shrugged, confused. “Perhaps, even better? I don’t know…” Thomas shook his head, still confused. “And I think I was so mad at you for so long because of that that I failed to notice the obvious, you see?”

“I was a mess, Tommy,” Kate shared, amused with his adorable awkwardness. “I cried every day of the trip for the first two weeks,” she confessed. “Once in Amsterdam, I actually had to leave a pub because I saw a guy playing the bass guitar and he reminded me too much of you,” she shared with a smile, happy that she could laugh about it now.

“Then why did you stay there?” Thomas asked her, holding her hand with loyalty. He didn’t want to imagine Kate crying every night, longing to be home. They had been through a tough time but never for a moment had it been about their relationship. The two of them had always been fine but when their careers had mixed with some traumatizing personal events, Thomas and Kate had taken different views on how to deal with a turning point and that had caused a split. But they had never officially broken up, which had made their separation even more complicated and difficult to deal with. “Why didn’t you come back?”

“Because I felt like I needed to survive on my own first,” Kate informed him with caring eyes, knowing that while for Thomas that could be a difficult concept to grasp, for her it made more sense. “And you did too. We needed to be fine on our own first.”

Thomas smiled sheepishly, chucking her under the chin to make Kate look back at him.

“Are you saying that because everyone is always nagging us about how we pretty much never dated other people, we…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him with lighthearted contentment. “Not because of other people,” she corrected him. “Because of us. Tom, think about it,” she proposed. “We are together all the time,” Kate pointed out. “There were times I was finding it hard to figure out who I was and what parts of me were really just an extension of you,” she teased, watching him smile because it was obvious he felt the same way. Over the years, their individuality had fallen to the background because everything had slowly turned out to be about them as a couple. “I think no matter how painful this whole experience was, it ultimately served to remind us that we are not two halves of something but rather a single individual and that we can, and should have different responses to things if we want to,” she explained. “But what it showed to me is that regardless of how differently we might see things sometimes, it doesn’t mean that we don’t want to be with each other.”

“We can be fine on our own,” Thomas smiled, making sense of her point. He agreed entirely with what Kate was saying. “We just don’t have to,” he leaned over and touched her forehead with his.

“Well, I don’t want to,” Kate wrapped her arms around his neck as she climbed on his lap. “But it’s good to know that I can.”

Thomas laughed with enchantment and pulled her closer, finally kissing her lips to seal their newest agreement. It made perfect sense that they could live life without one another while simply choosing not to.

After that, he went on to explain to Kate the arrangement he’d made with his father. After agreeing to stick to the hours of his contract and not extend his workload any longer by staying extra time, even in the moments when the opportunity might seem incredible, Thomas shared that Owen had also set up a weekly meeting for him with a medical counsel who would guide him as he got his life back on track.

Once he was done giving his testimonial, Thomas noticed that Kate bit her bottom lip nervously, as if unsure whether or not to share something of her own.

“So, as you can see, I have it all figure out now,” Thomas playfully exaggerated as he played with her fingers between his. The fact he was making jokes about it showed how at ease he was with the new turn things had taken and Kate loved seeing it.

“Yeah, about that…” the girl hesitated, clearly not as comfortable or decided about that aspect of her life as she was about mostly everything else.

“What is it?” Thomas asked gently, rubbing her back in support.

“I know I have postponed my residency, but I am not sure I want to start the surgical program next year,” Kate confessed, looking at him almost as if apologizing. She didn’t notice she avoided his gaze and looked down as she continued, “I was thinking and maybe I…”

“You want to apply to a different program, don’t you?” Thomas read her with an understanding smile. “Dermatology, is it?”

Kate looked appalled.

“How do you know?” she asked, torn between relief and shock.

Thomas chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose.

“I’ve known you all my life,” he pointed out. “I was there with you while we were getting our education. I think I can safely say I have a good grasp on what makes you happy,” he explained understandingly. “I think surgery isn’t one of those things.”

It was clear on Thomas’ tone that he didn’t mind it one bit and Kate picked up on it too.

“Katie, the idea of you choosing your own medical specialty seems perfectly reasonable to me. I know we made plans all our life to become surgeons, but plans change, we saw that. You don’t have to be worried about disappointing me,” he looked into her eyes, knowing that even though Kate hadn’t said it, she was probably bothered with the idea. He hoped that since they’d already covered him, they were finally getting to the bottom of what had been bothering her too for the last few months. “And now that we’ve made it clear it clear I won’t love you any less if you become a dermatologist,” he teased her, nudging his nose against her face. Kate could foresee the many jokes and teasing remarks that would invariably come for the rest of her life if she chose that specialty. “I think it’s time that youare comfortable with discarding surgery from your life too,” Thomas wisely added, pulling her in for quiet, comforting hug that was truly all the support Kate needed to go on with her decision.

When music class began, Megan was anxiously waiting at her seat hoping that JD wouldn’t skip it. She wanted to apologize for the uncalled cruel attack in his direction earlier that morning, which had only served to make the girl feel even worse about herself.

As Megan tried to get her feelings in order, she watched as the boy at last arrived and took his usual seat opposite to her. She expected JD to be mad, or even to plainly ignore her, making it more difficult for the girl to reach out to him. But to her surprise, he treated her with courteous simplicity throughout the period, asking Megan to please pass him the folder with the music sheets as Mrs. Julian happily explained a few notes using a whiteboard and then even thanked her when Megan picked from the floor the pencil he’d accidentally dropped as they were gathering their stuff to leave.

More perplexed than ever, the girl tried to study his expression but JD’s closed off façade reminded her of the way he used to act when they’d first met. It was as if he had distanced himself from the world and nothing could get to him anymore.

What Megan had said about his parents rejecting him had been a cruel, absolutely dreadful attack and she knew it. Especially because the girl had no idea why JD had really been sent to live with his grandma in the first place. The mere idea of her own parents rejecting her made Megan sick to her stomach and she hated herself for using something about JD’s past against him, especially when she didn’t even know what was true or not. The notion that his current behavior, shutting down again in what felt like a step back might have everything to do with him being hurt by her words filled Megan with shame.

“Are you okay?”

His question was Megan’s undoing and for a moment, she forgot about the other students who were on a hurry to leave the classroom or even about the teacher, who was still picking up her things from her desk.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Megan had to bit her lower lip to control her emotions. She had never felt guiltier in her life than she did now. “I was horrible to you. I don’t deserve it.”

JD seemed surprised by her question, but not really affected. He shrugged with disregard before simply stating as he put the guitar he’d used back in its place.

“I am not being nice to you,” he explained. JD was doing his best to keep it civil but he had stopped trying to hold a conversation with Megan, or even pester her anymore. “I am pretty sure you said what you said in an attempt to get to me,” he made eye contact with her as he spoke. “But it doesn’t mean that it is any less true,” JD added. He admired the fact that Megan spoke her mind, unlike most people. At least she was honest, so he had to respect that. No matter how awful the truth was. “So I am respecting your wishes and from now on, I won’t bother you anymore.”

At that point, everyone else had left the classroom and Megan found herself alone with the boy.

“Surely you don’t believe that,” she blocked the way, stopping him from exiting. “It’s not true, really!” Megan insisted, watching as he tried to go around her to get to the door. “I didn’t mean what I said! You can’t honestly think it’s true,” Megan’s breathing got heavier as she grew horrified with the idea of him actually believing it.

JD stopped at his tracks and looked deeply into her eyes, studying her expression. He was starting to believe that his demise bothered Megan more than it bothered him, but he didn’t want to fool himself into once again think she was actually any different from anyone else he’d ever met.

“Why do you care, anyway,” JD shook his head, too fed up with everyone to have any energy to deal with it. “Please, get out of the way, I don’t want to push you,” he added unable to disguise his irritation.

Megan stood up to the guy, frantically trying to make him listen and most of all, believe her.

“JD,” she held him by the arm when he tried to go around her. “You have to believe me,” Megan insisted. “I don’t mean what I said.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, but took a deep breath, regaining control.

“Which part?”

His question surprised Megan and she frowned, visibly confused with his unexpected comeback. The girl had spoken about his parents not wanting him around and then about herself sharing the same desire. It was very important for JD to know which part exactly she hadn’t meant.

“What do you mean, which part?” the girl tried to process what he was saying. “Any of it, I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

JD studied her blue eyes, defensively looking for hints of why he shouldn’t trust her or believe anything she was saying. But Megan seemed honest and the realization bothered and infuriated him because it would just be easier to hate her than to process what he was feeling right now.

“Yes, you are right, Megan, they didn’t want me around,” JD furiously hissed, building every wall around his heart that Megan had somehow managed to overcome without him knowing. “Is that what you wanted to know? That my father kicked me out after my mother died because he couldn’t stand me? Is that what you meant? Because like always, you were right, Miss Perfect,” JD’s jaw was clenched as he looked at Megan with so much built up anger and hurt that for a moment she was actually afraid he might say or do something irreversibly stupid. “But you know what, that’s fine. I am fine. I am through with him. I can live with that, alright?” the boy glared at her, hating to feel so vulnerable at her every movement. JD had long before decided not to let anyone else have this kind of power over him but before he could control or contain it, Megan Hunt had developed the ability to hurt his feelings and the notion infuriated him. He didn’t even know how she had managed to do it, but there the girl was, getting under his skin. “But don’t bullshit me, okay? Not you,” he looked deeply into her eyes, leaning over the girl with an intimidating glance that only made Megan realize the full extent of his pain. “Don’t come to me saying one thing and then say you didn’t mean any of it just because you have a guilty conscience,” JD pushed it, firing every word. “It only makes me lose my respect for your honesty. I don’t want and I don’t need your pity,” he looked deeply into her eyes, watching as Megan was shocked with each word that left his mouth.

The girl’s face showed just how shocked she was. Megan felt her heart aching in her chest, hating that she had so many times been so horrible to him. His entire behavior made so much more sense now… How he kept everyone at a safe distance, the way he pushed people away the moment they got too close. Megan had once called him a cliché and yet she had been the one who’d failed to see the obvious.

“I didn’t know that,” Megan kept on trying to make him stay, knowing that the more she pushed it, the more he would probably get angry and snap. “I didn’t know about your dad or your mom… I am so sorry,” the girl added.

JD shook his head, as if disregarding her words.

“Yeah, like I said, I don’t need your pity,” he scowled and forcefully got out of her grasp, walking into the hallway despite Megan’s attempts to make him stay.

It felt like her heart was breaking in tiny pieces when Megan lost control over the situation and had to watch him walk away, knowing that there was a big chance he might never speak to her again. The notion devastated her. JD was annoying and frustrating, but Megan had just found out how much she really cared about him.

The boy was already half way through the corridor when muffled sobs reached his ears.

Usually, the sound of a girl crying wasn’t enough to invoke any feeling in him other than annoyance mixed with impatience. But strangely enough, despite his best effort to think Megan’s display of emotion was fake, JD couldn’t believe it in his heart that she was actually making a scene or pretending to feel something she didn’t, especially when she had no idea she could be heard.

Megan was still curled up on her seat with her face buried between her legs trying to contain the sound of her cries when she felt a warm hand rubbing her back in a soothing caress. When the girl brought her face up, it was with shock that she found intense green eyes staring back at her.

“Don’t cry,” JD pleaded, feeling his heart constrict by the sight of her face drowning in tears. Seeing her hurting affected him more than he thought it ever could. “You can call me names and tell me to go to go hell or whatever but please, just don’t cry.”

Megan slowly raised her head and noticed he had his eyes closed as he said the words, in an attempt to get control of his emotions. Once again, they had had a big fight, possibly the worst one they’d ever had and even though she was the one to blame and the one who’d said the most hurtful things, it was JD who was trying to comfort her.

Grabbing his hand to stop him from walking away again in the eventuality he might try, Megan decided to ignore all her confusion and opened her heart.

“I was very angry with you when I said all those horrible things, but it had nothing do with you,” she confessed, using her free hand to dry her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. Truth is… Aaron dumped me,” the girl tilted her head to the side and shrugged, helpless in face of the situation. “And I blamed you for it because he blamed you for it,” Megan tried to make sense of things. “It was wrong of me and I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let you get to my head again. You didn’t deserve it. I am sorry.”

JD nodded his head, accepting her apology but it was the content of her confession that caught his attention the most, rather than the apology.

“I am sorry that he gave you up,” JD smiled, using his knuckles to wipe a remaining tear from her face. When Megan stared back at him with those big blue eyes that resembled two moons, he smiled with amusement. “I always thought he was too insecure for you, anyway,” the boy teased out of habit and because he didn’t know how else to deal with the impending avalanche of emotions that followed the information Megan had just shared. “I’ll tell you what… If you’re okay with my company now, I will consider buying you ice cream.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Megan censored him, still feeling horrible about what she’d said, even though she had already clarified she hadn’t meant it.

“You also have to do something about that face because you look horrible,” JD smirked, much more comfortable with teasing and provoking her, especially now that she was slowly getting back to acting like herself once he’d criticized her appearance. “I don’t want to be seen around you if you look like that,” JD added, putting both hands inside his jacket pockets while throwing Megan a side glance to hide his smile.

“You’re an asshole,” Megan decided, smoothing her hair in an attempt to fix her looks. “It’s me who should be buying you ice cream, you know, Justin, because since you have no friends, you…”

“Shut up,” JD interrupted her with a chuckle.

He waited until the girl gathered her things and then finally opened the door to what he hoped wasn’t only the exit to the music classroom, but also the start of a better relationship with Megan.

Emily felt the first thin droplets of the rain hitting her face and wrapped her coat tightly around her body. The cold weather in November wasn’t unusual in Seattle, but something about the open field next to the Stadium area made it seem like the wind was chillier than ever.

Or maybe the way she was shivering had more to do with the conversation she was about to have than with the air temperature.

When Lucas left the training area inside the stadium towards the parking lot, he immediately noticed the short woman standing next to his car. His teammates kept talking about their upcoming match on the weekend, but Lucas wasn’t listening to them anymore. His eyes were focused on the auburn haired girl who looked more adorable than ever nearly disappearing beneath a caramel cashmere scarf and an elegant knitted hat.

After saying goodbye to the other athletes, Lucas went in her direction, noticing how she rubbed her gloved hands together after blowing on them, trying to get warm. There had to be a reason why Emily was waiting for him outside and with one peek, he could figure out why.

Next to her, he saw on the floor a small carry-on wheeled piece of luggage and a matching handbag. It was obvious she was going somewhere and Lucas didn’t have to think very hard to know where.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” he finally stopped walking in her direction and stood a few feet away from the journalist, facing her. Despite his serious tone, Lucas’ expression was friendly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to apologize for what I did.”

“I know,” Emily repeated, this time with an apologetic nod. For the past couple of days, ever since Lucas’ childish discussion with Peter in her mother’s house she had been ignoring his attempts to get in touch with her. Her ex-fiancé had left to New York just hours after the incident, but it wasn’t until today that Emily was finally going back to the city too. “I am sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“What’s changed?” Lucas asked, looking from the depth of her eyes to the bags and then to the girl again.

Emily seemed hesitant and even a little guilty before she opened her mouth to explain.

“I came to say goodbye.”

It wasn’t all there was to it and Emily knew it. Truth was, if she’d allowed herself to answer one of Lucas’ calls or even agree to see him before she left, she wasn’t so sure anymore that she’d go on with her resolution to leave with such determination, or at least so much certainty.

The journalist was still very angry at the way Lucas had discussed with Peter, and even more upset at how he’d spoken about their first time together as if using that to compete with the guy. But after cooling her head and processing the whole situation, Emily couldn’t help but realize that it hadn’t been until Peter had wrongfully given the impression they had spent the night together that Lucas had turned into a dick.

Lucas had expressed his desire that Emily didn’t leave, but she knew that even though his intentions were the best, there were simply no guarantees about anything. The only thing concrete was that he was experiencing amazing success playing for his childhood team, the one he’d always dreamed of playing for, whilst Emily’s source of stability and solidness remained in New York, the place where she had a steady job and a career of her own. Other than that, every other line was too blurry to risk anything.

And yet, Lucas still didn’t know that she had called off her engagement. Even though she had her mind made up about leaving, Emily wanted to be good terms with him and hopefully keep in touch if possible. And she also couldn’t get herself to leave Seattle, quite possibly for good this time around, without so much as saying goodbye.

Judging by the look on his face, the confession that she’d come to say goodbye seemed to hit him pretty hard and the realization made Emily want to give in to tears.

“I am so proud of you,” she heard her own voice and involuntarily reached for his hand, grasping it between hers with a mix of affection and joy. Lucas saw through the tears that were now building up on her eyes, but it was her genuine smile that touched him the most. “You’ve made it so far and I….” Emily’s voice faltered as she embraced his hand against her chest, sniffing soundly. “I never doubted you would,” the girl raised her hazel eyes to meet his and smiled between tears. “I always knew.”

Lucas noticed how much she was struggling. The context they were in was so bittersweet that it made his heart pound inside his chest. That moment felt too much like a goodbye and in as much as he hated to think it might be the last time he would see Emily, he couldn’t help but feel touched by the meaning of what she was saying.

Emily had always believed in him. When very few people had… when he himself hadn’t. Back when they were seventeen, with all her strength and bright light, Emily had made Lucas discover his own worth and believe that he could take control of his life. As a result, he’d followed his dreams and five years later there he was living the life he’d always thought about having.

Except Emily wasn’t in it.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself, you know,” Lucas couldn’t contain a smile and teased her when Emily gave in to tears and hid her face on his chest. He wrapped both arms around her tightly before whispering against the soft fabric of her knitted hat. “The exception is that no one is surprised,” he added with a mischievous voice.

“Don’t berate yourself,” Emily censored him disapprovingly.

“Don’t use words like berate,” Lucas replied in a lighthearted tone, smiling with affection at how clearly emotional she was. It was obvious Emily was having a hard time leaving, but he didn’t plan to make it any easier for her.

The sound of her sheepish laughter filled his heart with love and Lucas took both his hands to the sides of her face, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs as he gently forced eye contact with the girl.

“I am sorry about what I said to your fiancé,” he said to his dismay. Lucas hated relinquishing Emily, but he also didn’t want her to stay if she wanted to be with another guy. As painful as it was, he would just have to learn to deal with the rejection. “I didn’t mean to be such an asshole.”

“You were ridiculous,” Emily rolled her eyes, thinking back about his childish demeanor. Even though Lucas had done something as scandalous as saying to her ex-fiancé that he had been the first guy in her life in the middle of what should have been a civil conversation, the fact he’d pulled that stunt also didn’t surprise her. “And Peter is not my fiancé anymore,” she finally confessed. “I called off my engagement.”

Lucas took in the information, waiting for her to say something more while he analyzed whether or not he’d heard it correctly.

“You’re not marrying that guy anymore?” he asked with a frown, trying to process what it meant not just for Emily, but for them as well. “What happened?”

Emily seemed to read his mind because she splayed both hands on his chest and looked deeply into his eyes.

“I realized so many things,” she smiled between tears. “It feels as if… As if once again, you walked into my life and you helped me see the light,” the journalist closed her eyes with force, struggling not to give into tears. “I wasn’t happy and when you asked me that question, it really made me think and find out the truth.”

Lucas smoothed a few loose locks of hair from her face and placed them behind her shoulder.

“And now you are?” he asked with genuine interest. “Now you’re happy?”

“I am trying to be,” Emily nodded, determined to chase that resolution. “It feels like I am getting there, anyway… I am trying to figure out what to do and the first thing was cutting out of my life the things that are notmaking me happy,” she explained. “My engagement was one of them. Now I have to get back to the job I love and have stability in my career again,” the journalist added. The uncertainty of not having a steady job was really unsettling for her and knowing about her background and the family she had been raised in, Lucas could easily guess why.

“Don’t leave,” the athlete wrapped both his arms around her waist, desperately trying to get her to stay. “I know you have a job and I know it might feel like I am asking for too much, but don’t go… We can be happy here. We should be together,” he tried to convince her. “It’s you and I, Emily. It has always been,” Lucas reminded her. Through all the ups and downs, they always found themselves in the same place. “You can go back and forth all you want but you’re always going to end up right here,” Lucas smiled with his eyes closed as he touched his forehead to hers. “And we can figure out together what your happy means.”

Emily sniffed, genuinely torn. God, why did it have to be so hard… so damn near impossible?

On one hand, there was stability, the prospect of going back to a job she really loved and the safety of an apartment she had made for herself. On another, there was the risk of staying and giving up everything that was certain for the prospect of being happy with Lucas.

And even though being happy with him represented and was worth a whole lot more to Emily than everything else combined, it was exactly the risk of it all that scared the hell out of her. Sometimes it was better to have what was certain than to risk everything and end up with nothing at all. Life had taught her that the hardest of ways.

“You have made me so happy already,” Emily smiled and touched the side of his face, rubbing it affectionately. It was true. No one had made her happier in a lifetime. “I love you. I have always loved you and I always will,” the girl noticed how Lucas’ eyes sparkled with her confession. He was right. It didn’t matter how much she avoided it or tried to deny it. He was the one and probably would always be. Even if they weren’t meant to be together. Unable to help herself, Emily stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him on the lips longingly. “But I can’t stay.”

When she pulled apart, Lucas searched in her eyes for an answer but found only heartbreak and something that resembled regret. Emily had always been rational, too much for her own good. Sometimes, it was better not to think about things but rather just to feel them.

Encouraged by that thought, Lucas once again rubbed his lips against hers in what began as a gentle caress but quickly became a deep kiss as soon as Emily relaxed in his arms. He felt the tight grasp of her hands around his neck as Emily stood on the tip of her toes to mold her body to his when Lucas pulled her against him.

Emily knew that letting Lucas kiss her like that wasn’t a good idea and would probably only make it harder for her to leave. But how on Earth was she supposed to resist it when all she wanted was to kiss him back with the same passion?

And God, how long had it been since all her senses had been ignited like that? One kiss… that was all it had taken… Just one kiss and it felt like Emily had found her happy place again.

The thin droplets of rain slowly became thicker and before they had the time to make sense of things, a heavy shower was pouring on their heads. Lucas looked around and noticed most cars in the parking lot had already left, which meant they’d been there for a while now.

“I am not going back to New York because of my job,” Emily affirmed with conviction as she reluctantly pulled apart. She hoped that he at least knew that much. Maybe someday she would be able to reconsider turning her life around but right now, she needed the stability she could only find back in the city she had built her life in. It was getting late and she should probably get going to the airport if she didn’t want to miss her flight. They were soaking wet now and her teeth were chattering from the cold. “I hope you know that.”

“I am not sure I am in any condition to rightfully think through anything right now,” Lucas confessed honestly, running a hand through his hair with frustration, noticing how wet he was.

He wanted very much to believe Emily and he supposed deep down he did, but it just hurt so much to accept that she wasn’t going to stay that Lucas had to hold onto to some kind of excuse not feel like he was really being left behind.

“And I didn’t sleep with Peter.”

At her random confession, Lucas raised his head, making eye contact with the girl. Emily read the question on his face and explained.

“I know it’s not relevant for my decision to leave but…” Emily hesitated, embarrassed. “I just thought you should know that.”

Even though he was still devastated about her inevitable departure, Lucas was very satisfied to learn that Emily hadn’t spent the night in her ex-fiancé’s arms. Like he’d suspected and hoped, ever since they’d reconnected, their feelings had come to surface and just like him, she probably hadn’t felt the desire to be with anyone else ever since.

“You know, I don’t get it,” Lucas said as he watched Emily hailing a cab on the street next to them. As the first yellow cab pulled over, the journalist stacked her luggage inside of it, making Lucas’ heart shatter all over again when he realized it really was goodbye. “You said you broke things off with that guy but you’re going to New York anyway… And I know you have a life there and it is a lot more than just him,” Lucas explained, nodding his head in denial. A mix of jealousy, disappointment and heartbreak was getting the best of him but it was the lack of control over the situation that really made him feel powerless and deeply hurt. “After everything we’ve been through this past couple of months… It just feels like you are choosing him,” Lucas added, hating himself for thinking that since Emily was going back to the same city as the guy, he was going to have the chance to maybe reconnect with her while Lucas was getting left behind.

“I am not choosing him, Luke,” Emily affirmed with conviction before she kissed him on the lips one more time and got into a cab to finally board a plane to New York. Her eyes were still filled with tears and apprehension when she added with the fierce determination that was so typical of her. “I am choosing me.”

If you want to torture yourself, this is the song that put me in the vibe to write the last scene.

#omelia #myboys #myboysfanfiction #omeliafics #omelia fanfics #omeliafic #amenff

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