#and I was so psyched to live watch it because I shouldn’t be able to get the channel here but it was there on my tv in the dream 😭

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

They’re infiltrating my sleep, they can’t keep getting away with this, we’re so close.

[purplefangirl42]

Port in the Storm

Pairing: Brasso/Reader

Tags: Fluff, Comfort

A/N: I wrote this for @sherwood-forests after she was in my inbox at 1 AM telling me how in love with Brasso she is. Love you Sher 💜

The sound of marching footsteps outside your window was beginning to wear on your psyche. While Ferrix had never been a quiet place, it wasn’t such a constant cacophony of noise before the Empire had shown up. It seemed endless.

A light tapping on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You threw the dirty rag down on the counter beside the parts you had been cleaning and wiped your hands off on your apron. Opening the door, you found Brasso standing outside, exhaustion covering his haggard face. He didn’t look like he had slept a wink. Stepping to the side, you allowed him in. 

“What have you been doing all night?” you asked.

Brasso let out a tired sigh as he settled on the chair beside your counter. He pulled his hat off his head and ran a hand through his thick hair.

“I was at Maarva’s all night. Bee didn’t want to leave.”

You nodded in understanding. The little droid had been quite attached to the woman. It didn’t surprise you that he wouldn’t want to leave the place they had lived together for so long.

“She was all he had,” you said. “You can’t blame him for wanting to hold onto her for a little longer.”

“I don’t blame him in the slightest. We all wish Maarva was still here.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” you asked. 

“I’ll take him in. I’m not going to abandon him. He’s not alone, even if she’s gone.”

You gave him a small smile as you rested your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was sweet of him to show concern for the little droid and give him a home when he needed one. 

“You want some tea?” you asked.

Brasso shook his head and grabbed his hat off the counter to put it back on.

“I should go. There’s stuff I should do to get ready for the service. They’re really making things difficult for us. I just wanted to see you for a minute.”

“Nothing’s going to change in the next hour,” you said. “Stay, please.”

Brasso’s tired eyes met yours. His large hand lifted up to rest on yours that was still on his shoulder. 

“Alright, if you insist.”

You moved to walk away, but his grip on your hand stopped you in your tracks. You gave him a questioning glance, but he released you before you could say anything. It had felt like he didn’t want you to leave his side, but was too afraid to hold you there. 

You went to retrieve the tea you had previously offered him. As you moved around your small kitchen, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You didn’t dare turn around and meet that gaze. You knew if you did, it would crumble your heart. 

The two of you had danced around each other before, but had never gone anywhere. The last thing he needed right now was for your inconvenient feelings to pop up again. He had enough going on now dealing with all the things he shouldn’t have to be doing. 

When the tea was done, you placed it on the counter before him. Thinking of your own worries you posed a question you weren’t sure you wanted an answer to. 

“Does he know?”

Brasso lifted the mug to his mouth and shrugged before taking a drink.

“I have no idea. I don’t even know where he is.”

“Surely, if he did, he would come back. At least for the funeral.”

“That probably wouldn’t be the best idea. Too many people are looking for him.”

You sighed, knowing he was right. That didn’t change the fact that Brasso had too much on his shoulders because of Cassian’s actions. Not only had Cassian left things in Brasso’s hands by leaving, his actions had led to the current Imperial occupation and Bix’s arrest. Maybe if he wasn’t able to come back to help, you could do something yourself.

“Is there anything I can do to help get things ready?”

Brasso shook his head in response and placed the tea mug back on the counter.

“The Daughters have taken care of a lot of it and I can handle the rest. You have already helped by making me this tea and providing me with your lovely company for a short respite from everything out there.”

You looked up and met his gaze that you had been avoiding before. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave you a tiny smile. He reached across the counter and took your hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. 

“Thank you for being my port in a storm whenever I need you.”

You squeezed his hand back in response. 

“I’m happy to help.”

You could see a tiny glimmer in his eyes as he stared at you, one that caused a flutter in your stomach. There were those feelings surfacing again. You tried to pull your hand out of his grip, but unlike last time, he refused to release you. Using his grip on your hand, he guided you around to his side of the counter.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you here to give me that peace,” he said as the distance between you grew smaller and smaller.

“I’m sure you’d weather through it like the strong person you are. Not many have the fortitude you have, or the kindness to help others when they need you.”

Now that you were standing beside him, that glimmer in his eyes was front and center. It was almost beckoning you closer, begging you to take that final step. You planted your feet firmly on the floor, keeping the last of your self-control in check.

“It sure wouldn’t seem as worth it if I didn’t have you there to help me,” he said. 

“That’s what friends are for. To be that shoulder to lean on when you need a respite.”

Brasso’s gaze wandered over your face, and you could swear that his eyes had darted your lips for a second before looking up to meet yours again. He finally released your hand, but only for his arm to loop around your waist.

“Brasso…” you said quietly, “what are you doing?”

“What I should have done before everything went upside down.”

Your feet didn’t seem to be as firmly planted as you thought. Brasso easily pulled you the rest of the way towards him with his strong grip. His other hand lifted to cup your cheek for a moment before he leaned in to press his lips against yours. It wasn’t long before your own hand lifted to mirror him, holding his face as well. The scratchy feeling of his beard on your hand was grounding, keeping you attached to reality while the rest of you floated away.

Brasso pulled away after a few moments, but only an inch or two. He lifted his head and placed another soft kiss to your forehead before he pulled you fully into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder as he embraced you, returning it just as tightly by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

He didn’t seem afraid to hold you beside him now. In fact, it felt as if he was more afraid to let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go either, so you were content to stay in his warm embrace as long as he wanted to hold you there.

[randadrives]

Solo Safety - Part 1

One of the most asked questions I, and many other solo travelers, receive is: “Aren’t you scared out there by yourself? Do you feel safe?” It can be difficult to explain to someone how I feel less safe in a crowded city, how my nervous system betrays me in a grocery store more than when I’m alone at a campsite in the middle of the desert, or in sight of other campers up a mountain. Honestly, there was absolutely a time I was afraid. There were times I didn’t feel so safe! That’s what happens when you live with anxiety. But I counter the thought with: I would not feel any less anxious if I was somewhere else or not alone. Sometimes fear just happens and cannot be prevented. But being prepared and having a plan can help! I’m going to cover some of the basics in solo safety in a series of posts now.

A first step that can be taken with traveling or doing outdoor activities solo is to practice with friends. Is there a spot you want to try camping or hiking by yourself? Invite someone to go with you first. I spent so many years hiking at McConnell’s Mill State Park with friends or my sisters, so when I wanted to try hiking solo, my first inclination was to go to a familiar trail I’ve been to before and do it alone. It was a popular trail, and I knew it well. It’s a better idea to try something you know first than to go to an unfamiliar place for your first time. I spent an entire summer wanting to hike trails at each of Allegheny County’s 9 parks. So, I had a friend join me for 2 or 3 of them. I became comfortable finding the trails, figuring out where to park, learning about downloading maps on my phone, and reading reviews online before arriving. I figured out what to take with us on different lengths of trails, and what times were best to go. Then I was able to start going to unfamiliar trails alone. I was still in a County park, still on well-hiked trails, and these things increased my confidence. The drives to them were short so if I psyched myself out, I could easily turn around. The same strategy can be done with camping. Find a campground or area you would enjoy trying that isn’t a far distance. Invite a friend or family member to try it out for a night or two. Figure out with a companion what you need to bring, watch some YouTube videos on the area, and test it out. If you like the location, go back alone! This is a great way to boost your confidence. If you invite several people and they all turn you down – find new friends. I don’t mean replace your friends; I mean find camping/hiking friends! I have had success meeting several people online with apps, Facebook groups, or even just inviting coworkers I didn’t really know that well. It can feel weird or awkward at first when it isn’t something you have done before, but it gets easier and feels more natural the more you try. I have made great friends just from wanting companionship.

Now that we have some practice (or maybe you skipped that step), my #1 safety recommendation is nonnegotiable: communication. It does not matter what I am doing, communication is vital. When I travel, when I hike or camp within those travels, when I’m meeting up with someone new, I always tell several trusted people where I am going, what time, when I get there, who I’m meeting (or if I’ll be alone), when to expect to hear from me again, if I will have service or not, and I may even send a little cute selfie right before my adventure so they can see what I’m wearing. It may sound like overkill or silly, but I like to know someone always knows where I am and what I’m doing – just in case. It has become such an automatic habit for me that I don’t even think about it that hard. If it is a hard habit to develop, a location sharing app is a great tool, but shouldn’t be the only tool because technology fails. A combination of communication tools is best and gives me peace of mind so I can enjoy my time, especially when I have no service (which really gives my brain the break it needs once in a while). Because it was in my budget, I also carry a satellite phone with me for emergencies. My Garmin InReach Mini 2 takes up almost no space and tracks my location that I can share with others. I pay $15 a month for the service, which allows me to send/receive up to 10 text messages with no additional charge. It has an SOS button to contact emergency response in case I get into a really bad situation that I need rescued, but bear in mind that those services will also cost a lot more than $15. I consider the price worth it in an emergency. Your service also can be shut off and turned back on at any time if you know you will not be adventuring and don’t want to pay for it. There are similar satellite phones on the market, but this is the one I have personal experience with. Another common, quick, easy, old-fashioned way to communicate is leaving a note on your car window or checking in at a Ranger station. Many experienced hikers will stop at a Ranger station near the trail they’re going to just to say hello, make their presence known, and ask about the trail conditions. I have done this and found myself lucky to avoid a trail I was committed to doing because the conditions were not right at that exact moment – maybe the trail was flooded from rain or something like that. Or others will park at a trail head and leave a note on their vehicle window: “started trail at (time).” Rangers do check these! Many trails also have logs you can sign to track visitors. I will put “Miranda + dog,” what time I start the trail, and how many miles I plan on hiking that day.

While still on the topic of communication, you may or may not be a social media aficionado. When it comes to safety and traveling solo, especially as a woman, a good rule to go by is not to post where you’re going or your location until after you already left it. Maybe I’m paranoid, but if I have 500 Facebook friends or 600 Instagram followers, do I trust every single one of those people to know where I am alone? No. And you should not, either. If I am camping in a wildlife refuge for a week, I may be excited to share photos and videos I take, but it can wait until I pack up and leave. I love to spread awareness and the beauty of certain places, but only after I’m gone. Only the few I trust with my location need to know I will be “hiking at Hunter’s Canyon tomorrow at 3pm by myself” where there isn’t any cell signal and maybe no other hikers. Keep yourself safe from predators, not just the mountain lion type.

While on that topic, let’s keep it going strong with how to stay safe from predators – the two-legged variety. I’m a fan of a good RBF and confident demeanor. If you have ever watched an interview with a serial killer before, they often talk about how they pick their victims based off demeanor. Am I saying you will run into a serial killer while camping or hiking? Unlikely, but I know it’s at the forefront of all our minds when out in the wilderness alone, so we may as well address it. Like I have alluded to before, I’m more intimidated by running into people at gas stations and grocery store parking lots than I am running into the lone person in the woods or mountains. Most people camping or hiking are looking for the same thing I am – solitude, the sounds of nature, etc. We are all just trying to survive out here! Let people know you see them, smile or wave, give a head nod, speak out with “Hi, how’s it going today?” as you walk by. Chin up, shoulders down and back, relax and fake it til you make it. Also, leave the headphones at home. There is no reason to be on a trail caught unaware by person or animal because you’re not paying attention. The same goes for constantly staring at your phone. Eyes up! Don’t look like a victim by not being aware of your surroundings or appearing afraid to talk to people. I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked “are you alone?” when on a trail or camping. Fortunately, I have only ever had that asked of me in campgrounds, not while dispersed camping/boondocking. It is the most irritating thing, and it is so difficult to not roll my eyes at whoever is asking, normally a couple or group of people. It’s never the other people who are also alone that ask, because they don’t give a shit. If you’re not comfortable answering “yes,” then don’t! Say whatever you want. “Nope, my husband/boyfriend is meeting me”; “No, just catching up to my friends”; “No”; “Weird question to ask”; “I’m never alone”; or whatever else comes to mind. I have used all of these and more depending on the scenario and how tired I am of being asked that on a given day. If I am staying at a campground, where it’s generally safe, public, and monitored, I will now say “yes” because I don’t think it should be some taboo thing to go somewhere alone. Sometimes people just want to genuinely ask because they have never done anything alone, and maybe they want to start and will ask how you got into doing that. I try to understand from that perspective, but it’s also not your obligation to make conversation with anyone if you don’t want to. However, I have been in a situation before where a drunk man has come to my window in the middle of the night in a campground to ask "are you alone here?" and that is never okay. If something like this happens to you, keep the campground after-hours emergency number handy, and don’t hesitate to call an employee to help. Don’t be afraid to loudly, firmly, and clearly set a boundary. No one should be bothering you just because you’re alone and might appear incapable.

I am in several Facebook groups dedicated to solo camping, solo women, hiking, etc. because I find some great ideas that are given in them. They’re great for making connections and gathering advice. But take everything you read there with a grain of salt. What might work for others possibly won’t work for you. Many women who travel solo will advise to set out an extra chair to make it look like you have company, or to set out a pair of large, worn men’s boots at your campsite. I don’t necessarily agree with this system. If you’re camping for several days at a time, people are going to notice you’re alone whether you put out decoys or not. I think these things take up unnecessary room and don’t do the job you might like them to. I personally don’t want anyone to think it bothers me that I am alone, or like I can’t take care of myself. However, I do think bringing a dog is a great deterrent, and good company anyway!

So far, the base line is: educate yourself and trust your gut. If something doesn't feel right, lean into that and be vigilant. If you know you're just overthinking things, do what you need to do to make yourself feel better. In Part 2, I will be covering what tools to carry, some wildlife safety, the weather, and vehicle maintenance, so be sure to check back to cover more basics of safety! Please feel free to comment tips and tricks you have used, as well as any questions you may want answered!

[seiwas]

hi sel!

I’m so glad you enjoyed going back to the gym!!! And that you encouraged yourself to go!!! That’s amazing!!!(im currently setting off fireworks for you🎆)!!! I hope you were satisfied with your workout!!!🫶

and yeah psych has really peaked my interest since taking a psychology class in high school! I almost chose it as my major but I thought more deeply about it and I felt like I shouldn’t be trusted with the mentality of others lol💀 but that’s also why I have so much respect for those in the career tho!🫶

And I’m actually currently majoring in architecture!!! ♡

And I’m glad you get it😭 like I honestly would want to give it another chance but I hope that we would still have a fun compatibility with one another! but yes! IF our relationship could be sparked again somehow and we were still the same with one another, I would definitely think about trying it out haha!!

and! you really do paint such a good picture of you bf though😭 like it’s sweet the way you do it because it really does get the message across I feel like!!! ♡ and the teasing is honestly a plus in the relationship if it leaves you smiling afterward like awwww🥹💖🫶

and yeah the lecture was really interesting and I can’t wait for the next one! and thank you sel for listening about my day!🥺

and I’m sorry you didn’t feel satisfied with how your cookies turned out😭 but hey it’s cool that you still tried tinkering with it!!you tried to spice it up!!! there’s always some fun in that ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚ and now you know what probably works better when baking the cookies so I’m sure they’ll come out better next time, you go this!!!🥺💖 and thank you! some friends of mine want to throw like a mini Halloween dinner/party so we’re all dressing up and bringing different different things to the dinner! The things is tho!! I’m kinda better at baking than cooking lol!! so I’m gonna try making some Halloween themed ones (hopefully they don’t come out looking weird💀)!!!

And yes I started it hq again!!! I had watched a bit of season one I think when I was in middle school bc I remember some episodes lol, but I don’t remember why I didn’t continue to season 2🤔

but I really am enjoying it now!!!!! and I’m loving the fact that only games are being lost and not lives😭 (it’s a good change of scenery🥲)!!! and the fact that he’s cried twice because of how emotional it can be honestly has me more excited to continue🥹 like I love getting so immersed in their goals and relationships😭🫶 and since I’m at the beginning!! I’m really liking kageyama and hinata!! especially because of how funny their bond is!! and daichi and suga!! and!!! oikawa and iwa!!!! I’m really loving them all individually but I also really love their friendships too🥹🫶💖

and thank you sel😭🫶!! I loving coming over to talk with you🥹 and yes I really did want to come over and remind you that YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!!!!💖🫶 I really have loved your recent additions!!! I feel like you add so many new layers of love on top of what you already put🥺 (I don’t know if that makes sense lol!! but like!! I feel like you give each new addition another layer of care and love!! like your care for these stories just keeps growing!!!)

and thank you sel!! I was actually able to rest up for a bit this weekend!!! I hope you did too and that you enjoyed it!!!🥺 I’m wishing you a wonderful week!!🥹💖🫶

⭐️ anon!

⭐ anon hello!! welcome back 🥺

oh you're adorable setting fireworks for me 🥺 thank you!! the workout went great!!

i completely get what you mean omg but it's so cool that you decided to pursue architecture!! i hope you're enjoying and that it isn't giving you too much of a hard time 💗

you are so sweet coming in here to share these things w me!! and to update me on things like the lectures you're taking too!! of course i'll listen!! 💗🥹

and you're so right with the cookies!! i kinda did just throw them together so maybe it was my bday too 😭 and your halloween party with your friends!! that's so cute, picking outfits and decorating!! making halloween themed food too!! aaaah i hope you have the best time!! 💗 i'm sure your treats will turn out great!!

omg i was the exact same!! i think i picked up around mid-hs? but then stopped after the first season too and dk why 😭 i'm so happy you're enjoying it now!! it rly is a good change of pace after watching jjk ngl 😭 keep me updated as you go!! who your faves end up being/which teams you end up rooting for 🥺 tobio was my first hq!! loves and still has a special place in my heart today!! (even tho i'm a full on seijoh girlie now sjhdbfhsj)

i think it's so sweet that you come into my lil mailbox for a chat like this 🥺 and even reassuring me/complimenting my writing again omg 😭 (am rlly bad at taking compliments...) but aaah thank u so much 🥺 it's so nice how you put it that way, love continually stacked upon one another!! i think the more i write for col the more i feel it becoming so so precious to me 🥺 the col couple truly are my babies shdbfhjsad i love them more and more so i'm glad that that's felt in the recent additions!!

wishing you a wonderful week too, nonie!! my weekend has been very restful thank you so much!!! 💗🥹

[briellesumbrella]

I don’t want to be observed. If I was ever watched for long enough people would notice I wasn’t meant to be here. There’s people that are prime. They’re existence is hard coded into reality or at least the loose definition of it. But I’m like a frayed thread on the edge of existing and not existing. I’ve peered into a set of realities always altering between the ones with me and not me. And I see how my own energy just deprives others of everything. All I seem to be is this massive black hole to those around me. I’m alone but I’m not. And for good reason. I think I hurt others without intending to. It’s as if no matter my choices, people near me tend to suffer and have bad things happen to them. I recall how so many people I know have had cancer. My mother, my best friend and one other I wish to keep secret as they were the only one to pass away but also the only one that didn’t know me before she became ill. I’m only saying this seems to be the worst case scenario but others go through different hardships. I can’t keep people in my life, at least not naturally. And I wasn’t meant to be a hero despite my strong moral ethics. A lot of times my mind tells me to do the right thing but I’m the back of my mind I remember how it would be easier to just be evil. Others seem to be evil and get away with it. But I can’t. My conscience compels me to always do the right thing but I’m always conflicted. Especially when i do the right thing but I still seem to get punished for being good. I’ve found that keeping a neutral stance seems to work out best but to me I see neutrality as the absence of good and evil. Which leaves me unsatisfied with my choices. How am I to turn a blind eye to seeing a crime or injustice happen before me? In that same regard can I not be happy and encourage those who act just and righteous? This way of thinking has only caused me to further believe I wasn’t meant to exist for if I’m only content when I do nothing then what’s the point of living if only to just observe or be observed without taking sides. Is this true balance or just placated torture/bliss? If only I could share with those that would understand this feeling of inertness. I’ve come to believe that some are born to be meant for each other but we’re born far apart either physically or chronologically. I AM suppose to have friends but not anyone born near me in location or in age. No one should have to be alone but yet sometimes it’s all that can happen. I’m no genius but I’m doomed with information. I almost feel like parting with that information may help my or someone else’s psyche. So if I’m dead before anyone can get any help from this, I’m sorry. I staved off death as much as I could because although I used to be suicidal, I’ve come to appreciate life and I now know that all life is precious. I will continue as long as I am able and have taken steps into trying to live my life to the fullest, maybe not as fulfilling but for as long as I can hold out. Also, I may not have any children to pass this information onto but we’re all one people so therefore you are all my family in some way or another and I find it strange that so many can just forget that. We may have our own stories and our own way of doing things but we shouldn’t be hurting or killing or hating each other like we do. Sure we might not all get along but why do we have to treat anyone else with anything less then the same respect we expect to receive. At the very least we should all strive to be decent human beings to one another, have a little empathy or maybe be a little human from time to time. Anyway I’ll try and post more. If not for my own sake then for those I hold dear and for those that I love forever and always.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song vii (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; includes jacuzzi (oral) sex, outdoor sex, the angst/drama comes knocking!  words; 8,336

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

A few days after Arin’s birthday party school started back, and just as you’d known you got incredibly busy, incredibly fast. With admin and getting to know your new students you found that you were too distracted to dwell on all the things that had been worrying you. Yes, it was strange not being able to see Seokjin practically whenever you wanted, and yes, you missed him – and the summer, but with work so hectic it cushioned the blow. You didn’t have time to live inside your own head or get sad about stupid, tiny things. 

Letting the school know about your relationship wasn’t mandatory now that you weren’t Arin’s teacher, but you felt better for it, meeting with Hoseok one morning to inform him. Eunbi already knew, being quite a close a friend to you, and slowly, over the next few days you let some of the other teachers you were friendly with know too. You found it quite exciting. You’d been single for such a long time so finding yourself in conversations about your boyfriend filled you with a happiness you weren’t quite used to. You liked talking about Seokjin, bigging him up, some could call it bragging… He’d even very kindly donated money for a new playground to be built in the kindergarten area. He wanted to help Primrose Hill any which way he could. It meant a lot to you and his daughter. 

It only took around three weeks to get yourself into a routine. For both of you to find a rhythm and make it work well. Your lunch break wasn’t long enough for you to zip to Seokjin’s office and join him so he always made an effort to come to you. Sometimes you’d eat in his car, sometimes yours, or sometimes you’d meet in a small café near the school. You cherished that short time together because sometimes that’s all you could have. Depending on how busy you both were you often couldn’t spend time together in the evenings. You tried to at least once in the week, but weekends were reserved for things like spending the night. 

It was Tuesday today and you somehow had a night free from lesson planning which meant you could join Seokjin and Arin for dinner. You were glad really, because Seokjin had been stressed since yesterday and you hadn’t had a chance to see him properly. He had to go away on last minute business this weekend but it coincided with Misook’s family vacation. He’d asked Nana if Arin could stay with her this weekend but she was busy too. He didn’t know what to do, other than try and postpone the trip. Key word: try. 

Misook had left for the day just as you were arriving, Arin in her room, too busy playing on the Nintendo Switch she’d gotten from Nana for her birthday, so it gave you some brief time alone with Seokjin. You were shocked to see him still in his suit, sat in contemplation alone in the family room. Oh, boy. You hated seeing him so stressed. He was never one to mope or even show his mood. You knew him well enough by now to be able to tell when he was drained, but he still didn’t let it affect him too much, always smiling, always joking around. This evening was different. He’d barely said a few sentences, mostly it involved apologising for his bad mood. He felt selfish, not being much company, yet still needing yours. He had nothing to be sorry for, you reassured, resting your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. You reached for his hand, and there you stayed like that for a little while, fingers laced together. 

Arin made her way in soon enough, stomach rumbling, a hopeful lilt to her voice as she walked over to you both, hands behind her back. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”

Seokjin shifted, unlacing your fingers and dropping his arm from your shoulders as you both sat up straighter. “Didn’t we have that yesterday, Arin?”

Arin didn’t miss. She was a professional. “But Y/N wasn’t here yesterday. She missed out.” 

Her comeback even managed to draw a quiet chuckle out of her dad. “We’re not having pizza, sweetie.” 

She sighed softly, crossing her arms around her chest as she looked your way. “Daddy is moody today.” 

You raised an eyebrow, your mouth unable to stop quirking up in amusement. “He is?”

“Why do you say that?” Seokjin asked. His tone was light, but you could tell by his frown lines her casual words had him worrying. 

“I heard you on the phone this morning to mommy. There’s no one to look after me when you go away this weekend and she can’t do it.” 

Seokjin faltered, not expecting such a frank answer. He composed himself quickly. “She’s just really busy, Arin. She wanted to look after you, she just couldn’t this time.” 

“I know,” she replied simply, nodding her head. 

There was a beat of silence and then Seokjin reached for her, kissing her cheek, his voice quiet with apology. “I’m sorry. Was I really moody today?” He looked unsurely your way too. 

“Uh huh. You hardly smiled, and when I tried telling you about the field trip I’m going on next week you weren’t even listening properly.” Arin’s small voice filled with such attitude was comical. 

Seokjin chuckled. “Daddy’s really sorry. I’m smiling now, though, right?” Arin nodded. “And if you’re kind enough, you can tell me about your trip again over dinner. Is that okay?” 

“Hmm.” She thought allowed. “So can we get pizza?”

Seokjin snorted. “Nice try, young lady. It’s still a no.” 

.

.

Seokjin ordered from one of his favourite restaurants, helping you set the table as Arin went to check on her rabbits. You ate together, listening as Arin spoke all about her upcoming field trip, finally having her father’s undivided (and interested) attention. However, halfway in, she completely changed the topic, throwing you both. 

“Can’t I stay with Y/N this weekend?” 

“Hm?” Seokjin looked over at her, visibly surprised. 

You swallowed what was left in your mouth just as Arin’s eyes found yours.  “I can just stay with you while daddy has to go away.” Your lips parted, trying to think of something to say, your years of teacher training falling short. 

Seokjin beat you to it. “No, no, sweetie,” he shook his head, sounded a little flustered, taken by surprise. “Y/N will probably be busy on the weekend. That’s her only free time, she can’t look after you.” 

With a small shrug, she put her fork to her mouth. “It was just a thought.” 

Seokjin looked over at you, expression apologetic as he mouthed sorry. 

.

.

Hey, listen…” You began, feeling oddly nervous as you looked up at your boyfriend. It was a couple of hours later, Arin was in bed, time was getting on, you had to leave soon, but cuddled up against him, both curled up on the sofa as you watched mindless television, you really didn’t want to go anywhere. Seokjin had relaxed a little by now (the wonders of food), but you could still tell his mind was exhausted as his gaze fell on yours. You took a breath, deeper than intended, psyching yourself up. “I really don’t mind looking after Arin this weekend.” 

You didn’t miss the way his eyes widened a tad, obviously taken by surprise, but then his mouth lifted at the side, his head shaking from side to side lightly as he let out a breathy chuckle. “Y/N, don’t feel like you have to just because she brought it up.” 

You found yourself relaxing. He didn’t want you to feel obligated. You’d thought so, but the teeniest tiniest most worrisome part of your brain had thought he might now have wanted, or trusted you, to look after Arin. That wasn’t the case. You could tell by the look on his face. He didn’t want to put you out, ask too much of you. 

You moved and straightened your back, eye to eye now. “No, I honestly don’t mind at all, Seokjin.” You reassured, talking faster as you noticed him open his mouth. “Seeing as Arin was the one who suggested it, I guess she’s fine with the idea. I…” Hesitating, you added something else. “I wanted to suggest it myself but… If she’s comfortable with it, I’d love to.” 

It was the truth. Ever since Seokjin had called you at lunch time, telling you Nana couldn’t manage this weekend, you’d wanted to tell him you were up for it but something had stopped you. Even as he’d tried to think of options this evening – maybe his mom could stay for the weekend, his aunt – you’d held back and bitten your tongue. What if you were pushing boundaries? Inserting yourself into situations that didn’t concern you? Arin liked you, yes,   but being entirely in your care for 48 hours was different. She might not want to, she might feel uncomfortable. However knowing that it wasn’t the case, suggesting it herself so casually over dinner had given you the confidence to push through. Seokjin needn’t be worried about asking too much of you. 

Regarding you silently, he considered your words. Lovingly, you glided your hand up his arm, reaching out for his cheek. He pressed into your touch automatically. “I want to help you out.” At that, he smiled gently, lips turning up in a way that rounded his cheeks, making him appear at least a decade younger. It was wholly unfair. 

Turning slightly, his lips grazed your palm. “I’ll ask her about it in the morning.” You grinned, visibly pleased, and Seokjin took your hand to tug you gently to his chest. This time he placed a kiss on your mouth, humming happily. “Thank you.” 

Arin was more than happy about it. Seokjin suggested you stay at his home for the weekend, seeing as that would be easier for the both of you, but she was pretty adamant she wanted to stay at your place. You understood, kid’s curiosity and all. She wanted to know what your home looked like, she wanted to meet your “pretty best friend” she liked to ask about sometimes. Honestly, you felt touched that she wanted to learn more about your life. It was just another reminder of her acceptance when it came to you, and you’d be forever touched by how easily she’d let you into her life. She was more than welcome to come stay at your place, but of course you’d run it by Soojung first. She’d agreed quite easily, even after you informed her you’d be sharing her bed all weekend, Arin of course using yours. 

On Thursday night Seokjin’s guilt was getting the better of him. He had you on the phone, making sure you were 100% okay with looking after Arin. He didn’t want you to feel as if you were trapped just because you felt compelled to help him. He could cancel his trip. You told him how stupid he was being. Cancelling would put so many people out, including himself. Besides, you not only wanted to help him out, you wanted to take care of Arin. You felt as though you were capable, and if you were being even more honest with him, you felt really happy it was happening. Knowing Arin trusted you this much was a great feeling. Knowing he trusted you enough… 

“Why wouldn’t I trust you?” He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re great with her. She loves you.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you laughed. 

“How come?” He was hellbent on proving you wrong, voice softening as he continued. “You’re so easy to love.”  

You felt your heart skip a beat. He’d said it so casually, so easily, you felt dumb searching too much into his words. It was far too early to think of things like that – for confessions like that. Right? Still, he sounded genuine enough. He meant it, even if it wasn’t in that way. Not that you were expecting anything. You were perfectly happy with how things were, your feelings growing stronger each day. You weren’t in a rush, neither was he. That’s what made your relationship so great. But your heart still felt all fuzzy regardless. You found yourself smiling down the line, your thanks obvious in your tone. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you more.” He ignored your noises of complaint. “I’ll video call you a lot – and Arin of course.” Then he laughed. “Although, I’ll have a feeling she won’t miss me at all this weekend.” 

The next day you finished up work early, it was a Friday anyway, so you never made a habit of sticking around too long, but this time you were packed and ready to go the same time as the kids. Arin would be waiting in her classroom, ready to go home with you for the weekend. Seokjin had dropped off her things early this morning before his flight, indulging you in a few sleepy kisses before he had to go, a promise of ‘I’ll see you Sunday night,” slipping from his slightly downturned lips, hands reluctant to let you go. 

Arin was visibly excited when she saw you, seconds away from jumping up and down on the spot, your first name rushing out of her mouth without realising. It was no big deal of course, but her reaction was cute, eyes widening as her lips parted into a circle, a noise of realisation leaving her. She looked very much like her father, which made it even funnier. You took her hand, saying your goodbyes to Mr. Moon, her second grade teacher, and left the building for your car. 

“This is a really nice car, Y/N,” she complimented as you made sure she was strapped in properly. You weren’t nervous, but you were slightly on edge, cautious, being a better word, to make sure everything was okay. You needed all bases covered. Arin was in your care for 48 hours after all. You told yourself to calm down, if Seokjin knew you were being this antsy he’d be highly amused. You wouldn’t stop hearing about it for a week. 

“I’ve always wanted to ride in it,” Arin continued. 

You smiled down at her. “Thank you.” She was one of the sweetest kids you knew. Your car was average. Not that she knew anything about makes and prices and whatever else there was. You didn’t either. As long as it drove you from point A to B you didn’t care what it looked like. 

“Will your best friend be home when we arrive?” She asked as you got inside the driver’s seat, sticking the key in the ignition. 

“Soojung? She’ll be still in work. Remember I told she works at a department store?” It was adorable how excited she was to meet Soo. Your best friend’s head would be double the size soon, ego inflated. 

“Mhmm,” Arin hummed responsively.  

“She won’t be done until around 6.” You turned back to look at her, knowing your next sentence would make her day. “I think she wanted to get pizza for dinner. Would you like that?” 

“YES!” Arin exclaimed immediately, eyes lighting up. “Soojung likes pizza too?” 

With a chuckle, you started the vehicle up and started backing out of your spot, replying as you did so. “She does.” But in truth, the pizza tonight was Seokjin’s idea. He’d given you one of his bank cards to spend on the food bill with strict instructions to only feed her the doughy delicacy once this weekend. He knew what she was like – you both did. She’d eat pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner if she could. If you suggested it tonight, then that was it. She’d be eating your menu come Saturday and Sunday. 

“How far away is your house from the school?” 

You’d lost count of how many questions she’d already asked you since you’d arrived to collect her. It was comical. Seokjin had not warned you about that, but your years of experience had told you to expect it. What was a kid without questions? You’d be worried if she was silent. 

“Not too long.” You replied, glancing in the rear view mirror to see her happily looking out of the window. “When we get in, I’ll text daddy and see if he’s free to videocall.” 

“Okay.” 

You tried to stop the smile that wanted to break across your face at her nonchalance. “Do you miss him yet?” 

With a brief shake of her head, still staring at the whizzing scenery outside she answered pretty simply. “Not really.” 

This time you burst out laughing, unable to stop. She looked over at the noise, meeting your eyes in the mirror as you took a right turn, giggling along. “Don’t tell him though, Y/N. It might make him sad.” 

“I won’t, Arin.” You reassured with another chuckle. “It can be our little secret.” 

.

.

She settled in well that night, immediately warming to Soojung (who despite her lifelong insistence, was great with children). You thought perhaps Arin would begin to get homesick once it was time for bed, but after watching a movie you tucked her in and said goodnight. You thought she’d have trouble sleeping because she was in a strange bed but checking in on her twenty minutes later you found her fast asleep, hugging her rabbit plushie. You on the other hand got ready to share a bed with Soojung – the bed cover hogger… 

The next day Arin had you awake at 6am. You already knew about her liveliness in the mornings, so it was no surprise. You’d been woken up countless times over the summer by a knock at Seokjin’s door, Arin’s voice calling out for him. On days you weren’t there she’d even barge in and jump on the bed. Where she got her energy from so early in the morning was a mystery. This morning however, she caught you on the way out of the bathroom. You’d been tossing and turning all night, wresting the covers from Soo. You’d thought about maybe taking a blanket and having an hours nap on the sofa, but there Arin was creeping out of your room, a smile on her face as she saw it was you. 

There was no tempting her back to bed, so you sat her down at the table and made her some breakfast, snapping a picture to send to her father. (Captioned: Guess who had me up at 6am 😴) You had a few things planned today. Seokjin always made sure Arin was busy on the weekends, it was the only time he got to spend with her fully unless she was with her mom, especially now that she was back in school. Even if it was just something as simple as going to the park, he always made plans. So, to do your part and to keep her entertained, you were going to run by her house to make sure the rabbits were fine (fed and watered), then go to the mall. It was simple, yes, but you needed to get a few things anyway, and you promised after all that walking around you’d stop by the food court. Then she had to accompany you to the grocery store to get ingredients for tonight’s dinner. 

She was pretty damn excited regardless. “I like going to the mall with mommy because daddy finds it boring,” she informed you as she picked out her clothes that you’d helped her unpack yesterday. That definitely sounded like Seokjin, you thought to yourself, laughing along with her. “Mommy told me that next weekend she’s going to take me shopping and buy me anyyy-thing I want.” 

“That sounds like great fun,” you smiled, telling yourself you’d pretend you never heard that… Seokjin was keen not to spoil Arin so you didn’t think he’d be best pleased to find this out. “What do you want to buy?”

“Hmm. Something for Olive and Ariel, I think.” 

You smiled again, admiring her caring nature. Her rabbits were the most well looked after in this entire country. She adored them. “I think they’ll really appreciate that.” 

You continued helping Arin get ready first, and thankfully by the time you were done Soojung had risen. You left them watching cartoons together while you showered, eager to leave by 10am. 

Arin you found out, didn’t just like the mall, she loved it very much. She was practically skipping around the place as she held your hand, helping you pick out the things you needed for your craft session with the students on Monday. While she was recommending paint colours to you, she surprised you with a confession. “I wish you were still my teacher, Y/N.” 

“How come?” You asked gently. 

She gave a tiny shrug. “I’d get to see you every day.” 

Oh. You didn’t know what to say to that, touched at her matter-of-fact revelation. Instead you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a loving squeeze. 

“But actually, maybe I wouldn’t like it.” She added as an afterthought. You waited, curious as to why she’d changed her mind so suddenly. “I’d have to call you Miss Y/L/N. I’d get too confused.” 

You laughed, this child was far too funny for her own good. “Me too, Arin. It’s better this way, right?”

“Right,” she agreed with a nod. 

.

.

“Y/N, this is pretty,” Arin cooed, calling your attention as you rounded the stand. You’d gotten everything you needed and were now browsing around some other stores. You’d let Arin pick a couple out, worrying she might be getting bored, and one of her choices had been Claire’s. She was holding up a charm bracelet. 

“Very pretty,” you agreed. 

And then she struck. “Can I have it?” She didn’t give you time to answer, eyes widening as she began to beg, voice soft and hopeful. “Please. Pretty please.” 

You chuckled. You were practically immune to cute kids, so that wouldn’t work on you. However, she had been really well-behaved all morning, in your eyes she deserved a small treat. “You can. But just this one thing, okay?” 

“Thank you, Y/N!” She squealed, rushing up to you. She gave your arm a squeeze. “I like you much better than daddy.” 

“That will hurt his feelings,” you burst out laughing. She didn’t have to butter you up, you’d already said yes. 

As you were paying the cashier, she wondered off to a stand of keychains, her eyes catching something instantly. “Oooh, pretty,” she purred and the cashier, a woman no more than a few years older than you, laughed. 

“Best escape before she wants something else,” you joked, handing over some cash. 

“My daughter is just the same. Kids, who’d have them, right? We’re glutton for punishment.” She joked. 

“Oh, no, I’m –” You stopped yourself dead, unsure what to say. Had this woman just mistaken you for Arin’s mother? It definitely sounded that way. But just how could you correct her? 

“Don’t get me wrong,” the cashier said, shaking her head. “They’re definitely worth it.” 

You forced yourself to smile, feeling a little wooden, but the chuckle you got out sounded better. “Yeah, yeah they are.” You glanced over at Arin, thankfully she was too distracted by the abundance of cute animal keychains. You turned back and took your bag from the woman, trying to shake off how awkward you felt. “Thank you. Bye.” 

Walking over to Arin you took her hand. “Hope to see you again soon,” the cashier called behind you and you gave a wave, telling Arin to do the same.

“Thank you,” she sang sweetly as she did so. 

.

.

“So, something weird happened today,” you told Soojung as you prepared food, careful to keep your voice low even though Arin was well and truly distracted inside the living room. Taehyung was a master with children. The guy needed a career change immediately. You’d never heard Arin laugh so hard. She’d been in stitches for the last hour. You were worried she’d be way to hyperactive for bedtime once it came. 

Soojung looked up from where she was chopping onion, interested as her eyebrow raised. 

“The woman at Claire’s mistook me for Arin’s mother.” 

Soojung scoffed, lifting her shoulders in a casual shrug. “I’m not surprised. It was bound to happen. It’s normal.” She added, reassuring you as she saw the look on your face. “People just naturally assume.” 

“I guess…” 

“What did you tell her?”

Your expression turned sheepish. “I just went along with it,” you confessed, placing spaghetti in a pan of bubbling water. You caught the look she gave you. “I didn’t know what to say!” It was the truth. “I’m her father’s girlfriend seemed too… I don’t know…” Too impersonal? 

“That’s what you are though,” Soo snorted.

You gave up, knowing you were probably making a huge deal out of this. Was it that serious? Probably not. “I just felt awkward.” 

“Because you hate correcting people, or because you didn’t like someone mistaking you for Arin’s mother,” your best friend pried. 

“It’s definitely not that. It’s just…” You sighed. “How would Arin feel about it? What if she’d heard?”

Soojung shrugged. “She loves you. You’re great with her.” 

That wasn’t the point you were trying to make. “It still might have upset her though. She adores her mom.” You weren’t trying to take Nana’s place and you didn’t want her to ever think that. 

It was Soo’s turn to sigh, dropping the chopped onions into a fry pan. “Do you want my opinion?” 

“Please,” you requested meekly. 

“I think you’re looking way too much into it.” Obviously. “It’s not a big deal at all, and Arin didn’t hear anything so nothing to worry about.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, telling yourself to shake it off. 

“Of course I am,” she quipped, rooting around in a cupboard now. She turned back, a can of tomatoes in her hand. “I’m sure Seokjin will be able to ease your mind with his sexy Dilf powers or whatever he calls them.” 

“Shut up,” you groaned. You weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him. Like she kept saying, it wasn’t a big deal, right? It was an easy mistake to make. Probably happened all the time. 

From inside the living room you heard Taehyung roar loudly, mimicking a lion (possibly) and Arin shrieked out his name, laughter exploding from her. “Quick, let’s get dinner ready as soon as possible.” Soojung begged, dramatic as always. “I’m scared Tae might be getting ideas. I’m too young for kids!”

.

.

The rest of the weekend went by smoothly. Despite the excitement levels that Saturday night brought, Arin was knocked out by 9pm. You, Soojung and Taehyung stayed up for another hour before he had to leave and then Soo made her way to bed, needing to wake up early tomorrow for work. That left you on the couch, awaiting Seokjin’s video call. He’d already called once today, but Arin was so hyped, talking a mile a minute about her day, you couldn’t get a word in edgeways. (Neither could he.) You were thankful for some alone time. You were missing him. He’d gone away on business trips a couple of times in the summer but it didn’t mean you’d get used to it. You both talked about your day, and you decided there and then not to tell him about the Claire’s “incident.” Soojung was right, it was no big deal. It was a common misunderstanding, one you’d probably made unknowingly before too. After you’d said your goodbyes you went to bed, already strategizing how you were going to steal the covers back from Soojung. As much as you’d enjoyed looking after Arin, you couldn’t wait to have your own bed back. Sharing with your bestie was torture. Taehyung was an admirable man. 

Sunday was a chillout day, although Arin still had you awake at 6am. You made her breakfast, watched some cartoons and shared turns on her Switch before you both got ready for the day. You checked in on Olive and Ariel briefly before driving back to your place. There was a park nearby and you promised you’d take her. The weather was still warm despite September trickling by. It was crazy how fast this year had gone, autumn already nearly here. For the rest of the day you both relaxed in front of the TV, waiting until Soojung was home to watch a movie, and then you made dinner. Seokjin was due back around 7pm, so you made sure all of Arin’s things were packed up ready to go. It was just gone eight when he turned up at your door. Arin had already passed out on the sofa after her hot chocolate so he couldn’t stay long. You thought with how entertaining this weekend had been it had finally all caught up with her. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” He asked, careful to keep his voice down as he strapped Arin inside his car. (Still sleeping.) You’d followed him out as he carried her towards the vehicle, wanting to say your goodbyes. 

He straightened up, closing the car door as he stepped closer to you. You rubbed his arm. “You must be exhausted.” 

“Don’t baby me.” Reaching forward, he wrapped his arms around you, squishing your arms to your side. “I missed you.” 

You hummed, pressing your lips to his, careful to keep your voice a whisper. “Your dick missed me.” 

He scoffed in disbelief but couldn’t argue. “That’s…not a lie. My heart missed you too though.” 

“How sweet,” you joked, but couldn’t keep your charade up for much longer. “I missed you too.” This time the press of your mouth was much firmer. He matched it, letting you slip your arms around his sides, holding him too. 

“Tomorrow, then?” He asked hopefully, tip of his tongue wetting his bottom lip slightly as he pulled away. “I know it’s a school night but I swear I only get a good night’s sleep lying next to you.” 

Laughing, you nodded your head. “Tomorrow.” You agreed wholeheartedly. Sleeping alone was no fun anymore. 

He captured your mouth again, humming happily. “Can’t wait.” 

The following weekend Arin was with her mom so you and Seokjin had the entire weekend to yourselves. Saturday was busy, you’d both probably been a little too ambitious when you’d decided to cram as many different activities as you could into the day, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. You didn’t get many days to spend together likes this; walking hand in hand as you explored the local market, having brunch together, checking out a new museum exhibit, watching a movie at the theatre… You treasured days like these. And what better way to end one with? Jacuzzi time! 

Seokjin’s jacuzzi was fast becoming one of life’s staples lately. Who were you? A changed woman, that’s who. This was your favourite space in Seokjin’s garden(s). An area of decking, solar lights draped over the sleek fencing. In the middle was the jacuzzi, set into the wood. Now that the nights were drawing in, it was especially cosy out here, summer holding on for just a little bit longer as the weather stayed quite warm. It wouldn’t be like this for long so you had to make the most of it right now. 

You were sat inside the jacuzzi, water gently bubbling around you as you gazed up at the stars that had just started to appear when you heard Seokjin emerging from the house. His footsteps sounded against the wooden steps as he made his way towards you. You didn’t bother looking but when he didn’t join you straight away, you glanced over curiously. To be met with a rather naked boyfriend. 

“What are you doing?!” You exclaimed, eyes bugging out. 

He grinned. It was hardly innocent. “Jacuzzi’s are much more enjoyable naked, didn’t you know?” 

You tsked, watching him climb into the tub and make his way over to you. His mouth was immediately on yours, arms around your waist as he tugged for you to stand up. This wasn’t just any type of kiss. Like you’d said before, you knew Seokjin very well by now, and besides, you’d already noticed his dick was half aroused as he stood above you… He had a plan. 

On cue, he broke away, corners of his plump lips tugging upwards with a suggestion. 

“Join me?” 

“Seokjin…” You warned, voice low, hands grazing the tops of his arms. He couldn’t be serious. 

“No one can see us,” he reassured you with a wider smile. 

You mean, he was correct. This time you let your hands make their way to his shoulders, massaging them lightly. “You’re crazy.” 

“Yeah, crazy for you,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss you once again. His lips were slow, coaxing. Even more so as they made their way down your jaw and to your neck. You keened into his touch, his hands grazing down your sides, fingers toying with the sides of your bikini bottoms. “C’mon…” He sunk his teeth into your skin gently and you whined. “I know you want to.” You did indeed. Very much so. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, voice suddenly hoarse. You cleared your throat just as his fingers began to untie the strings of your bra, mouth still peppering your neck with kisses. Until that was your chest was bare, and then his lips were wrapped around one nipple, water rippling with the sudden movement. You moaned as quietly as you could, wanting to encourage him because it felt good, but also nervous as hell because you were outside. You didn’t care if there was no one around for a good mile, you were still out in the open. 

Cupping your breasts in his palms he gazed down at them, sighing dreamily. “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits?”

You raised an eyebrow. “One. Don’t be so crude.” (Not that you didn’t like it.) “And two. Yes, yes you have.” You broke off with a laugh, reaching for him to mesh your mouths together. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, but elsewhere he had a hand down your bikini to grab your ass. 

“What’s gotten – Seokjin!” You practically roared, cutting yourself off as he suddenly dived down into the water, fully submerged, hands attempting to tear your bottoms off. “What are you doing,” you giggled, clinging to his back as you tried to stay upright. He had one of your ankles in his hand, wrestling with the fabric. 

A few moments later he arose successful, flicking his head back to stop his wet hair from dripping in his eyes. He pushed it back further with his hands, forehead now devastating, skin glistening with water droplets. You heart stilled, he looked gorgeous – and naughty. Behind him your bikini bottoms floated to the surface. A smirk spread across his face as he finally replied. “Getting you naked.” And then he was on you. 

He kissed you hungrily, his erection pressed up against you, hot and eager now, just like his tongue. Your fingers threaded through his wet locks, letting him push his body weight into you until the backs of your legs hit the seat. 

“Up here for me,” he pulled away briefly, command light, tapping his hand against the deck behind you. You let him slip his hands around your hips and lift you up, legs spread to accommodate his body, feet still in the water atop of the seat. 

“You’re not too cold?” He made sure to ask, concerned despite being ravenous. You shook your head, desire for him enough despite the night air cooling the water against your skin. Satisfied he immediately dove in, leaning forward to place a kiss against your wetness. You pulsed against the touch, moving back on your elbows to get comfier just as his tongue came out and flicked against your clit. Suddenly you didn’t care that you were outside. 

From up here you had a great view of the expanse of his broad, wet back, muscles rippling as he ate you out. You moaned softly, running a hand through his hair, gaze falling to his face. His eyes were closed, water droplets caught in his dark eyebrows and as if he could feel your eyes watching him, he looked up, smirking against you before he sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth, actions growing more eager as he heard you go crazy for it. 

He knew your body well, which is why he cruelly held off slipping a finger inside of you. Actually, on second thought, he knew damn well that the second he did so, your orgasm would soon follow. It wasn’t hard to tease your body, to control it how he wanted. As soon as you felt his middle digit push inside, you clenched around it, hips bucking into Seokjin’s face as a stifled cry forced its way out of your mouth. He grunted, inserting another finger, curling and uncurling them as his other hand gripped your hip, trying his best to keep you still. It was no use, you were a woman possessed, pleasure beginning to hurtle through your body at an alarming rate. You stretched out, fingers of one hand sliding along the wood beneath you, desperately trying to cling onto something as you moaned uncontrollably. Seokjin hummed along, encouraging you, coaxing the orgasm through your body. With each wave your breath shuddered harder. 

You only started coming to when you felt his fingers slip out of you, his tongue ceasing, mouth now at your inner thigh, kissing you wetly, passionately. Your hands reached for him, wanting him close, but he was already on it, straightening up to meet your mouth. “I need you,” he breathed. You could taste yourself, it was intoxicating. “Here.” 

“Here?!” You exclaimed weakly, unfocused eyes trying to concentrate on his face. 

He kissed you once more, moaning a little. “Yeah.” His hands wrapped around your hips, lifting you further up the decking before he climbed out of the water and crawled over your body, reaching for something behind you. “Look – let’s use this.” He had a beach towel in his hand, the one you’d left draped over one of the wicker chairs, and he hurriedly laid it out, pressing you into it to kiss you again. His cock was hard and wet, bobbing against your inner thighs. 

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” He asked, wet hair now having fallen in his eyes. 

You cupped his face, nodding your head as you leaned up. You were still thrumming from your high. “Yes.” Your tongue curled against his open mouth, slipping in to meet his own. The kiss was messy, distracted, as he spread your legs, hooking one up under your thigh. 

Breaking away from your mouth, he straightened his back and aligned himself at your entrance, needing no hands he was so erect. You clung to his shoulders, waiting for the first thrust. His skin was still dotted with water droplets. “I’m too impatient, baby,” he told you simply, and then he pushed inside. 

Slowly, savouring the feeling of your walls stretching around him, both of you gasping as he bottomed out. With a slow thrust he groaned. “You feel like heaven.” As he leaned in to kiss you, he noticed you trying to hold back a giggle. “What?” 

You burst. “That was so cheesy.” 

Chuckling, he kissed you again, tips of his ears turning red. “Don’t laugh at me.” You snorted, unable to help it, reaching for him in silent apology, despite laughter still escaping you. “Seriously, stoppp,” he whined, dropping his head. 

You grinned. “Or what?” 

That got his attention. Looking up, his top lip twitched. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing over your lips. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” he murmured, voice an octave lower. You opened up, sucking the digit into your mouth, looking up at him knowingly. He knew what you were thinking. That didn’t sound so bad. 

“My mistake.” He smiled, gaze intense as he pulled away, his thumb leaving you with a silent pop. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

You were seconds away from agreeing but became distracted, watching him lift both legs up by the back of your thighs now, hiking them above his shoulders. He dick slipped so deep you choked, feeling so full you didn’t know what to do. 

“S-seokjin,” you panicked, your hands clutching his arms. 

He cocked his head to the side, voice soft. “Trust me?”  

You nodded, something already so addicting about feeling him inside you like this. You felt beyond sensitive, beginning to tremble as he slowly thrust in and out of you, bringing the tip of his cock almost all the way out before sinking back into your warmth. You moaned out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with a pleasure so overwhelming. He sped up, going harder now that he was certain you were enjoying yourself, wet squelches sounding along with your moans and his grunts. You loved watching him fuck you like this, towering down over you, the wet spikes of hair falling down around his face, fucking you with his entire body weight, your ass sliding back and forth against the towel. 

However, you also loved kissing him. Holding him as he thrust inside, keeping him to you. 

“Seokjin,” you breathed, voice tight, hands reaching for him. He got the message, easing your legs to the ground carefully as he took one of your hands and brought it up to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, your name slipping from his lips, breathless and husky. 

He moved closer, capturing your lips eagerly and you hooked your legs around his waist, clinging to the back of his neck in the process as your hips jutted up to meet each roll of his own. You were both panting by now, grunts of exertion slipping from your mouths as you continued to make out. His movements were messier, wet bodies pressed up close, enough to provide enough friction for a second orgasm. 

“Ah… I’m close,” he panted, mouth grazing down your throat as he attempted to keep the same momentum. 

“M-me too.” 

That spurred him on, hips snapping into yours with a cry, newfound determination, lips pressing into yours once more. You came together, out of breath and quite sweaty, but mouths unrelenting. You’d never get enough of kissing him. It was addictive – especially like this. 

Spent, he slid out of your dampness naturally, having grown flaccid, kissing you slowly now, indulgently, until he was moving south, capturing your left breast in his mouth, tongue encircling your nipple. You shuddered as he pulled back, one of his hands cupping the right breast to give that a parting kiss too. It wouldn’t be long before you started growing cold, but you were so content here you didn’t care. 

Seokjin lifted his head up, gazing straight into your eyes. His were warm and soft, drunk on your beauty (or so he would say). “I want to give you the world,” he breathed, sealing his confession with a press of his mouth. 

Your heart swelled, heat prickling your skin and you clung to him. But despite that, you felt the need to joke around. Call it a defence mechanism, who knew. “Men are so weak,” you chuckled, running your fingers through his hair to pull it back, revealing his face again. The tips had already started to dry. “Let them cum inside you and they’re like putty in your hands.” 

He laughed too, genuinely amused, but his eyes were still soft and he leaned into your touch, content with the way you held his face now. “I mean it though,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll make it happen.” 

You raised an eyebrow. He was being ridiculous, acting drunk. Still, you were pretty simple. You didn’t have many wishes, many dreams. “I want to travel on a plane.” 

It was his turn to lift an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like a private jet or?”

“No,” you giggled, “just a plane in general.” You kissed his nose. “You know I’ve never been out of the country before.” 

“You want me to take you on vacation?” He hummed, turning suggestive pretty quickly. “A sexcation?”

“Seokjinn,” you whined, dropping your hands from his face. 

He nudged his nose against yours playfully. “Well, of course there’ll be sex involved, but,” he grew serious, genuinely interested, “where do you want to go?” 

“Hm, anywhere?”

“Anywhere,” he confirmed, adding, “unless it’s another planet, or the moon.” 

You smiled, amused, yet deeply preoccupied now. Where did you want to go? What was your dream destination? You’d had one place in mind since you were a child. Running a hand down his bare chest you suddenly felt coy. “I want to visit Paris.” 

He grinned. “France, Mademoiselle?” 

You matched it. “Oui.” 

“Done.” He kissed you, sealing the deal. “Let’s go there tonight.” 

You burst out laughing at his idiocy. “I have school. You have work – a daughter!”

He laughed too, but he was distracted, gazing at you tenderly once more. He opened his mouth, about to say something but hesitated. Instead he smiled, nodding his head resolutely. “Okay, soon. Very soon.” He laughed when you squealed in excitement, bringing one of your hands to his lips. “I’m going to take you to the most romantic city on earth, baby.” 

.

.

It was Sunday the next day, which meant only one thing. Lazy morning sex. It was his favourite, his time to indulge in all things beautiful and pleasurable he told you. (i.e. You). You’d grown used to his lame lines, he couldn’t help it, and deep down you secretly loved them. A man so shameless with his desire, his devotion. You really had hit the jackpot. 

Sundays were also your excuse to just be lazy in general. You usually skipped breakfast in choice of an early lunch, but today you wanted to picnic outside. You knew in a week or so the weather would begin to change more drastically so this was your last chance. You made a reluctant Seokjin get out of bed and shower with you, ignoring his advances as you did so. He was like a dog in heat. Not that you usually complained, but today you really wanted to hit the grocery store before rush hour. Sundays were always busy. 

A few hours later you had everything ready, outside in the spot that saw the most sun. It bleated down on you as you kneeled, arranging all the dishes across the blanket you’d placed down across the lawn. 

“Oh, shoot. I forgot the salad.” Seokjin realised by the side of you. “I’ll be one sec, honey.” He kissed your cheek as he stood, smacking your ass playfully in the process. “Don’t start without me.”

“What will you do about it?” You called out to him, unable to help it. 

“If you’re feeling brave, I guess you’ll find out.” He called back with a laugh, retreating into the house. 

A good girl, you waited patiently, but then time started to tick on. One minute, then five… At ten you stood up with a sigh. Where was he? You had visions of the salad bowl on the floor smashed to smithereens. You made your way through the doors that led inside the back of the house. You past his study, calling his name. “Seokjin? Did you get lost?”

You were met with silence, which wasn’t surprising, his home was big after all. Down the corridor, closer to the kitchen you began to hear voices. Seokjin’s familiar rumble, although you couldn’t make it out, and then a louder, unfamiliar voice – female. You followed the sound, realising it was coming from the living room nearest the front door. A sick feeling was slowly creeping its way up your throat, but you didn’t understand why. As you got closer your heart began to race, blood rushing through your ears. There was this sudden feeling of dread. It was so strong you could practically taste it, and you were so frazzled you couldn’t concentrate on the words you were hearing as you rounded the corner of the open door, although you did acknowledge them. 

Immediately as you came into view you heard them loud and clear though. Directed at you. 

“Oh, and this is her, right?” 

They were coming from a woman, her dark eyes piercing into yours. She was beautiful, was your first thought. Tall and slim, with long black hair, so silky she could have come straight from a shampoo commercial. It reminded you of someone. Her hair just as dark and shiny. Arin. 

At the thought of the child’s name, you looked down, spotting her beside the stranger, clinging to her hand, eyes wide and shiny with worried tears. Everything clicked into place then. Confusion clearing, yet the sick feeling got stronger. This wasn’t a stranger. It was Arin’s mother. Seokjin’s ex-wife. Nana. And she looked angry. 

You glanced around, spotting Seokjin who was looking your way with apologetic eyes. His face looked torn. He murmured your name, stepping towards you, a protective hand reaching for your own. He held it tight, giving you a comforting squeeze. His palm was clammy. 

“Yes, here she is!” Nana laughed harshly, needing no reply. It made you wince. Beside you Seokjin groaned quietly, rubbing his free hand across his face before he took a deep breath. As if he was gearing himself up. 

You looked at Nana, chest a little tight, something heavy in your stomach. When your eyes locked the corners of her mouth curled upwards. 

“The stepmom!” She sneered. 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[redrobin-detective]

while you were sleeping

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Grandpa Max said in a gravelly, rough voice he only used when he was barely holding onto his anger. Gwen held her crossed arms tightly, trying to seem stern when she really felt scared. “You are going to relinquish your control over my Grandson and you are going to do it now or else-”

“Or else what, Grandpa?” Ben asked with a blank expression. Or at least, the thing wearing Ben’s face and body did. It hadn’t quite mastered fine motor control yet so seeing her cousin’s usually animated face so slack, his posture so awkward like a puppet on a string... it was unnerving. 

“Or I’m going to remove you from his person and get him back myself,” Grandpa growled. He slammed his hands on the railings of the stretcher Ben was sitting on and leaned close to his face. “And don’t call me Grandpa, you are not my boy, you are not even real. You are a hunk of metal and machinery and I don’t care if you are the most powerful device in the universe, Omnitrix, I will tear you apart piece by piece to rescue my family.”

The Omnitrix tilted Ben’s head awkwardly, it’s too bright green eyes staring at Grandpa Max with a fury Gwen rarely saw from her cousin. 

“You will never separate us. We will not allow it,” the Omnitrix hissed, clawing Ben’s right hand protectively over the alien watch. It’s usual green interface was blank having spread itself through Ben’s entire body. Three days they had just assumed Ben was tired from the battle in the Atraxi Nebula. Three days that Ben had been acting weird and not right while the Omnitrix possessed him. Three days of brushing it off until Rook had noticed the changes to the watch and alerted them that something was very, very wrong. “And you’re one to talk about saving us,” the Omnitrix spat out. “All you do is make demands of us, send us far and wide to fix other people’s problems and never helping our own.”

“Cut it out with this we and us. Ben is a person and you’re just a machine,” Grandpa sighed with frustration, rubbing at his eyes. 

“There is no Ben or Omnitrix, there is only us,” the Omnitrix stated as if it were obvious. “We have long since merged. Ben and I are one in the same which is how we know how damaged we are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Grandpa sneered.

“It means,” the Omnitrix continued with lidded, angry eyes, “that Ben doesn’t want to come out. His mental state collapsed in battle leaving our physical form in danger. We had to take control to get us to safety. Ben is safe and cared for right where he is and he will return when he is ready and not a moment before.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Grandpa Max screamed, finally losing his cool. Gwen flinched and she noticed the Omnitrix slid its eyes over towards her before flickering back to Grandpa. “According to Azmuth, you’re not supposed to be sentient, you’re not supposed to possess your host! Why am I supposed to believe you that you’re not holding Ben hostage?”

“Because we have been there for every injury, every bout of self-doubt and loneliness, every tear shed in grief and misery,” the Omnitrix whispered with venom dripping from every word. It’s eyes glowed so brightly it cast dark, ominous shadows on Ben’s face. “While you and everyone else looked the other way and pretended it was fine to thrust the entire universe on a child’s shoulders. The only one we have been able to rely on for years is ourselves and it wasn’t enough.” 

“I-,” Grandpa Max started to defend before deflating a bit. He looked over at her, unsure of what to say. Gwen gave him a curt shoulder shrug; she hadn’t exactly been overly attentive to Ben’s mental health the last few years herself. With the way he acted, it was easy to assume he was handling things alright but the signs were there now that she was looking. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that the Omnitrix had to possess him and point Ben’s struggles out. “It’s not like that, Ben would’ve told us if it was too much.”

“Which is why his psyche is in fractured pieces,” the Omnitrix said with an eye roll. It was just how Ben did it, for all that the actions were jilted and ungainly, it had Ben’s mannerisms down exactly. “We left the Master in your care for years and this is how we ended up.”

The Omnitrix leaned forward, it’s elbows balanced on Ben’s knees and it’s fingers laced together under Ben’s chin. It stared at them judgement in it’s stolen eyes. “So here is what is going to happen, Grandpa and Cousin. We are going to take care of Benjamin, as we have done from the moment of our joining. We will keep our body healthy and safe from harm, we will patrol and go on missions to keep our home and the universe intact. We will also work to undo the damage you have done to Ben and when he is healed and ready to resume control, then we will retreat and let Ben make the decisions.”

“You can’t do that,” Grandpa said with a dry rasp. 

“We can,” the Omnitrix countered steadily. “You will have to kill us to separate us and we will kill you before we let any harm come to Ben. Do you understand?”

“You say we’ve hurt Ben,” Gwen said softly, not liking the Omnitrix’s unfocused, uncoordinated gaze on her. “We probably have just like he has done the same to us. We’re human, just because you love someone doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.” It frowned in thought. “But you don’t heal by locking yourself up and not addressing the problem. If Ben, if he’s hurting, then he needs to be out here where we can fix it. I know you love him and want to protect him but this isn’t the answer.”

For the first time since the conversation began, the harsh look softened on Ben’s face. It almost looked human this way. If the Omnitrix and Ben really were one being by this point, then it wouldn’t give into anger for long. It just wasn’t in their nature. 

“You are right in a way, Gwen,” the Omnitrix said with a slight nod, sitting up from it’s aggressive slouch. “It’s not a surprise, you’re right most of the time,” the Omnitrix said with a little quirk of the lips that was very Ben. The mirthful expression tightened into one of frustration. “But we still need time. Ben is fragile right now, he needs to rest, to recover. When he, when we, are ready then we will listen.”

“Okay,” Gwen nodded, reaching out and grabbing Grandpa’s hand tightly before he could fight anymore. “Okay, well we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Right, thanks,” the Omnitrix looked away and picked at Ben’s ripped up jeans. Did the device share Ben’s ADHD? Was it just copying Ben’s nervous habits to trick them or were the two of them so blended together it wasn’t one or the other but simply different parts of a single whole? She couldn’t help but wonder if Ben would’ve been this same person if the Omnitrix had never bonded with him. 

“Well, it’s late and we’re tired. We’re gonna play some video games then meet Rook for patrol tomorrow unless you plan to stop us from doing our job.” The Omnitrix said, it’s voice heavy with accusation as it glared at Grandpa. 

“You may go,” Grandpa said forcefully, unhappy with the situation but unable to stop it. “But this discussion isn’t over.”

“Of course not, I’m still waiting for your apology about your treatment of us,” the Omnitrix sniffed with a flippant wave as it hopped off the stretcher and walked out of the room where it would continue to act as Ben and live his life for who knows how long. But who was to say that he wasn’t Ben, some aspect of him that they never saw. Either way, dealing with it, dealing with them, just got a lot more complicated. 

[sunmoonandeddie]

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT.  Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama!  Mama!  You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room.  She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy.  You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit… 

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in.  But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young…  Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything.  An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane.  But at least it incited real change in the world.  The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself.  Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage.  That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left.  You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of.  You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university.  And by then, what was the point?  They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer…  You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember.  You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home… 

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look.  “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes.  “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.”  She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time.  “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine…  You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital.�� It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course.  But it did make you feel like a horrible mother.  One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal.  “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face.  “No the fuck you did not.  I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!”  You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt.  “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table.  “And it’s not a pre-death support group.  I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.”  Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama…  I just want you to be happy…  You should have friends.  You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you?  And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone.  Completely, and utterly, alone.  Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time.  You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it.  There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours.  Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god.  She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin.  “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it…  It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with.  Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment.  “I’ll go once.  And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back.  And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet.  “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good.  She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh.  What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up.  “What?!  You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades.  “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on.  “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued.  “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight…  Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning.  A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids.  Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through.  It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big.  “Come on.  I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into.  “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held.  The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale.  Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him.  “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink.  “My dad’s single, you know.  If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed.  “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father.  And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you.  “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked.  At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed.  “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding.  Josephine had told you to make friends.  That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into.  “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face.  You hadn’t dared look at him yet.  “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t.  He was… stunning.  The very definition of male beauty.  His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties…  The 1940s, that is.  Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams.  He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older.  You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment.  Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.”  He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips.  There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome.  “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey.  It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station.  Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades.  “Really?”  Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…”  He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem.  You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display.  “Really.  I’m James.  What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name.  God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up.  “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um…  Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…”  He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips.  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.  Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o.  “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart.  “A club?!  Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious.  “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now?  Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable.  He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink.  “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier.  James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him.  “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring.  “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful.  Everything about him was beautiful.  Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.  At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again.  “What did you write about?  How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this.  “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you.  Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long.  Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours.  “So…  Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames.  You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um…  Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home…  I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over.  She’s nosey.  Real…  Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled.  “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home.  She couldn’t tell from the look on your face.  “Did you like it?”

“Hm?  Yeah.”  Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers.  At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be.  Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed.  She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower.  It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.)  By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside.  His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light.  “Woah…  You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took.  “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass.  “It’s cozy.  Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink.  “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter.  “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island.  “If I am…  If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.”  His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was.  “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last.  His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect?  Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse.  “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting.  Just wanted to kiss you.  Just wanted to… to touch you.”  He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again.  “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt.  Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest.  He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts.  There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better.  There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest.  “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl…  Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy.  “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly.  He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious.  What if he thought your pussy was weird?  Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him.  The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s.  “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds.  “There’s no need…  It’s just you and me, okay?  And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss.  “Okay…  Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Come on.  I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter.  Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck.  “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall.  “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours.  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips.  “Y-Yes.  Yes.  Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you.  “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.”  You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass.  “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom.  You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips.  “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please…  Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said.  Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.  When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I…  I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time.  Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours.  “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours.  There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined.  Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw.  It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth.  Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold.  “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted…  But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.”  A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone.  The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it.  As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt.  Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker.  He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him.  He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen.  In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee…  Him in your shower…  Him in your bed every night…  

Yeah.  It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you.  “Hi.  I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said.  “I’m making pancakes.  For you.  For us.”  His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake.  “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I…  I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed.  “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in.  Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect.  Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off.  He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did.  It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder.  “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also…  Girlfriend?  Were you his girlfriend now?  Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.  The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding…  Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed.  His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you.  “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling.  One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one.  A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was.  He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek.  His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll?  Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee.  “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head.  “Fuck…  Are you really this needy for me, angel?  Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous…  Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fucking shit…  Good girl…  Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you.  And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you.  He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting.  You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband.  All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy.  When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering.  Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck—  Oh, shit…  Baby—  I’m gonna…  I’m gonna—”  Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat.  His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip.  “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away.  “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets.  Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll.  You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed.  His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair.  “If you don’t mind me asking…  Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say.  “Um…  I was married before…  I know you know, but, uh…”  Your fingers fiddled together nervously.  You swallowed around the lump in your throat.  “My husband…  He wasn’t…  He wasn’t nice.  At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke.  He didn’t need to speak for you to know.  He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young…  He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going.  You needed to tell him this.  You needed him to understand.  “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent.  He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you.  He needed you close.  Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times…  He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie.  That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.”  You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him.  “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am…  But she came home one day during college, to surprise us…  She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again.  She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.”  You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder.  It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours.  “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close.  “Thank you for telling me, doll…  I…  I can’t imagine how hard that was…  But he’ll never touch you again.  No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.  “I love you.  So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax.  “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face.  “Time to get up…  I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it.  He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play.  He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still.  “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other. 

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet.  His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall.  Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?!  What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her.  “Who the fuck is this?!  What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello.  I’m James.  Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed.  “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one.  You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um…  The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said.  Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief.  No.  Betrayal.  “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…”  Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm.  This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go.  “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours.  “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah?  So I’m gonna take—Danny, right?  Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room.  You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak.  In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man.  More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “And I know…  I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me.  You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.”  Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing.  “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and…  and he loves me.  More than I thought anyone could ever love me.  And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful.  And I still need you.  Everyday.  But Bucky…  I love him.  I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers.  “He…  He makes you happy?  He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah.  He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh.  “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey.  I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer.  He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch.  The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb.  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.”  Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes.  “I’m sure she’s told you about my father.  What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment.  “What are you in this for?  What’s the long term?” She asked.  “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years.  Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended.  He wasn’t that old.  “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly.  “I have no doubt you know who I am.  But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.”  His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think.  “And I…  I can say that everything I’ve been through…  Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her.  And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless.  “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat.  “Good.  I just…  I can’t see her get hurt again.  Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry.  “I…  I actually have something to ask you about…  Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying.  But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you.  “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine.  She’s just gotta have her protective moment.  You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly.  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long…  I was just so nervous…  They both…  They both mean the world to me.”  You paused, snorting.  “I knew you’d approve of him.  I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead.  “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you.  He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already.  “I’ve never felt something like this…  But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him…  I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy?  “Well?  You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile.  “As far as dads go…  He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll.  It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee.  “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face.  Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world.  What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter Nine || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello and happy Tuesday besties! ICYMI, I posted a bit of smutty goodness for all of you 18+ folks here. If you’d like to be added to my general Hotch fic taglist please let me know! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, food mention, therapy, cuddling. 

wc: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, there were flowers in a vase on your bedside table. You’re smiling before you’ve even wiped the sleep away from your eyes, grabbing the sticky note that was stuck to the vase. 

“Would’ve sent these to your desk, but figured that wouldn’t go unnoticed by a team of behavior experts. Hope they made you smile anyways. -AH

An expert on behavior and he was only hoping that he could make you smile, you laughed to yourself, rolling out of bed and finding Aaron in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, packing Jack’s lunch. 

“When did you find the time to do that, Hotchner? Don’t you ever sleep?” You asked, and he looked up at you, breaking out in a smile. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugs, looking back down to his carrot slices as you cross the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of coffee. He places the knife down and tugs you closer to him by the palm of your hand so he can drop a kiss to the top of your head. It makes you feel warm all over. You hear the insistent smacking of small feet on hardwood and step away from Aaron in an instant, not wanting to be caught by Jack. 

“Morning bud,” Aaron calls across the kitchen. Jack responds with a yawn, which makes you giggle. He smiles at you. 

“Are you gonna have to go catch bad guys again?” He asks. “I missed you and dad.” 

“Oh little man, we missed you too! We probably won’t get called away today but I can’t say for sure. If dad and I come home tonight, do you want to have a special movie night so we can all spend some time together?” 

Jack nods ferociously, and practically starts buzzing with excitement. “Can we watch monsters inc?” 

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites!” 

“Dad?” Jack looked to his father for confirmation. 

“Of course, bud. But you’d better eat all of these carrots I’m packing in your lunch if you want a treat.” Aaron smiled at Jack, who agreed easily. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the bus.” He said, ushering Jack out the door with a Danimals and an orange while you finished getting ready. You were struck for a moment by how easily you had slid into the Hotchner boys’ morning routines, and you realized that you would miss it once you found your own place. But it was for the best-- you hoped that you and Aaron would be serious enough to consider living together, but you didn’t want to force it too early in the relationship and cause problems. 

When Aaron comes back, you’re dressed and ready to head off to work. He grabs his briefcase and suit jacket off of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. 

“D’you eat?” He asked as he pulled his jacket over his arms.

“I had coffee. I’m not a big breakfast person.” You tell him, surprised that he hasn’t already noticed this about you.

“Grab a fruit.” He tells you. 

“Did you eat?’ You ask him, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Hotchner. Why don’t you grab a fruit.” You teased, tossing him an orange from the bowl and tucking a banana into your purse as you stepped out the door, with Aaron locking up behind you. He wrapped his free arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the car.

“I have something to tell you, and you’re going to be mad at me.” Aaron confesses about halfway through your drive to work. 

“Ah, so that’s what the flowers were about.” You said facetiously. 

“No, the flowers were from your boyfriend, this news is from your boss.” He clarifies. 

“Oh?” You asked, needing him to explain more. 

“You’ve got a psych eval this morning.” He confesses and you groan. 

“Ugh, Hotch, really?” 

“Even if we could ignore what happened with Josh-- which, for the record, you shouldn’t-- you were held hostage by an unsub.”

“For like, twenty minutes!” You interrupted him. 

“It’s bureau policy, dear. There’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“And you can’t just say that you gave me the psych eval and I passed?” 

“No,” he tells you, sighing. “For us to be together, we need to keep everything above board. Hopefully no one starts on a warpath when we decide we’re ready to share this, but if they do, I don’t want to give them any reason to undermine your professional credibility by arguing I gave you special treatment.” 

You’re a little bit stunned by Aaron’s use of “when” rather than “if.” It’s not in a bad way, of course-- it’s actually, really, really good, to hear that he’s just as in it as you are, even if you hadn’t expressed it very well yet. The idea that he’s already thinking about the future-- even if it is your professional future, not exactly a white-picket-fence kind of future-- gives you butterflies. You realize you’ve waited too long to respond when Aaron speaks up again. 

“I understand if that’s a lot for you to take on, or if that makes you rethink things. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided this wasn’t worth the potential professional issues.” He adds nervously, clearing his throat. You reach over and put a hand on his thigh. 

“I think you’re worth the risk,” you smile at him, and watch him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 “Thanks for coming in,” Laura, one of the FBI’s resident psychologists said as you settled into the couch in her office. You err on the side of politeness and decide not to point out that you didn’t really have a choice. 

“Not a problem,” you smiled at her. 

“So how are you feeling?” She asked. 

“I’m good. I’m happy to be back at work, and to get my field clearance back. I’ve missed it.” You tell her.

“That’s right, you’d been removed from the field for a head injury.” She said, peering over your file. “Service related?” 

“No, I fell down a flight of stairs,” you lied, hoping she couldn’t read you as easily as Aaron could. 

“Hmm, so you travelled with the team even though you weren’t cleared for field work?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the judgement in her tone. 

“I didn’t go into the field. I stayed at the police station, in compliance to orders from my doctor and from Chief Hotchner. Unfortunately, the field came to me,” you attempted to make a joke. She didn’t laugh. 

“Was it not possible for your duties to be completed from Quantico?” 

“No, it wasn’t. The behavioral analysis unit works as a team-- we’re able to determine profiles as successfully as we do because we collaborate. My efforts, and the work of my team, would have been severely hindered if I had stayed behind.” You answer mechanically, trying, and most likely failing, to not sound defensive. “I fail to see how that’s relevant to my experience with Alec Gordon.” 

“I’m just trying to determine if you’re engaging in a pattern of self-endangering or careless behavior.” Laura answers honestly.

“I can assure you that my attitude regarding my work and the work of my team is anything but careless.” You bite back.

“You came back to work very quickly after your concussion.” She says, and it’s not a question, so you don’t take the bait. “Any particular reason for that?” 

“I felt ready to return, and Chief Hotchner was willing to accommodate my need to work partial days until I was fully recovered, so on the advice of my physician I returned to work on a modified schedule.” 

“Agent, I don’t need to tell you that withholding information in our session or on the forms you filled out prior to our appointment today, will only hurt you.” 

“With all due respect, I haven’t withheld anything and I resent the implication.” 

“Very well, agent. I will have a complete evaluation sent to your supervisor by the end of the business day.” 

“Thank you for your time,” you smiled, trying to make it look real. 

“The door is always open, agent.” 

“So, you kind of beat me to the punch this morning,” Aaron tells you as you’re walking out of the office together. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Well, the flowers were a part of my master plan to get you to agree to come to dinner with me tonight, but it seems you’ve made other arrangements with my son.” He smirks at you as you both climb into his SUV. 

“I guess now you know where you stand in the ranking of Hotchner boys.” You tease him. 

“It won’t get me ahead of Jack, I know, but will you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Aaron,” you laughed. “You don’t need to take me out to dinner.” 

“Yes, I do.” He tells you.

“We already live together. You’re going to have dinner with me regardless of whether or not we eat it at a restaurant.” You tell him, gesturing to his place as he parked the car.

“Maybe so, but you’ve already decided that we won’t be living together much longer. I care about you, and I want to spend time with you, and I’d like to take you out to dinner.” He said, shifting to face you now that the car was stopped.

You rolled your eyes fondly, feeling yourself blush. “I’ll allow it.” 

“God, it’s like pulling teeth,” Aaron muttered sarcastically, breaking out into a grin as you laughed.

You both got out of the car and headed inside, where Jess and Jack were working on a puzzle at the kitchen table. 

“Dad!” Jack says, looking up to see his father and abandoning the puzzle, launching himself into his father’s arms. 

“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, and I ate all my carrots so that I could have a special treat while we watch Monsters Inc.” 

“He’s been waiting to tell you that all afternoon,” Jess laughed, standing up from the table and crossing to you to give you a hug. When Haley died, you and Jess got a lot closer, through Jack. “It’s good to see you,” she says as she squeezes you. 

“You too.” You smile. “I’ve got to go change into my special movie night clothes,” you smirked, leaving Jess, Jack and Aaron in the kitchen.

“Jack, why don’t you go put on your pajamas, and we’ll start the movie in a little bit?” Aaron suggested, and Jack scampered off towards his room. 

“Do you plan on ever telling that girl how you feel about her, or are you just going to look at her like she hung the stars in the sky for the rest of your life?” Jess asks Aaron bluntly. 

“I can’t possibly be that obvious.” 

“Aren’t you literally a behavior expert?” 

“It’s being handled, Jess.” He assures her with a quick grin as you emerge from your room in soft flannel pants and a tank top. 

“Do you want to stay, Jess? We’re just gonna order a pizza and veg out.” 

“I wish I could. But you kids have fun.” She said, looking between you and Aaron. Jack comes running out of his room to give his aunt a kiss goodbye and you all settle on the couch. 

Jack inserts himself in the middle of you and Aaron on the couch, a slice of pizza on a paper plate in front of him with the promise of ice cream later on. Aaron’s arm rests across the back of the sofa and his hand plays gently with the hair at the nape of your neck. You tilt your head in his direction, pulling Jack into your lap so you can scoot closer as the movie plays on. Jack falls asleep before you can even get him his ice cream, and you take the opportunity to rest your head on Aaron’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and tracing comforting patterns into the skin of your upper arms until the credits roll.

[collisionsofstars]

i was just watching sandra oh’s interview for vanity fair where she breaks down her career, and while speaking about killing eve (this was in 2021, after season 3 was released), she reflects on her character and how it’s like for her to play eve and says the following thought:  “[...] i do feel like a special part of killing eve is that it’s a profoundly psychological piece. but as you see eve grow, it has to be believable. you have to see someone growing in front of you, and that’s actually not so easy to do. so that’s really been my aim, to examine the psyche of a woman and how she needs to be whole. and that’s what eve needs and gets from her relationship with villanelle.” honestly, this really caught my attention, especially due to the events of the finale. it’s really, really curious to me how divergent the actors’ view and interpretation of their own characters is in comparison to the writers’ for this season. their whole “yeah, villanelle died so eve can now finally be free and be reborn and live on” agenda is just so disparate from how these characters were portrayed for four fucking seasons it actually makes me ill. i think it is simply confusing to state, and believe something like that, when all they show is the very opposite. eve won’t be able to live on this happy life the writers say she will, because she was only like that when she had villanelle. end of story. being it the cat-and-mouse dynamic they had on the first season (which is so crazy to look back on now, seeing what they’ve actually become), being it the moments from the final episode, when eve finally accepts that she is undoubtedly in love with villanelle, and lets herself feel as such, lets herself feel free regarding that, and admits, rather carefreely to villanelle that they are bound to each other by fate. so, no. i don’t believe for a second that eve will be able to feel remotely happy after villanelle’s death, much less feel how sandra herself described that eve felt when navigating her relationship with villanelle. whole. and to me, not to mention everything else i’m already so angry about, that is one more thing on the list of how killing eve shouldn’t have, but betrayed us, and the characters, anyway. 

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[shihalyfie]

Comparing the original Best Partner character song series and the new one, and what that says about the 02 cast

So if you haven’t heard yet, a new series of 02 (it’s actually Kizuna) character songs dropped! Allegedly intended as a slightly delayed 20th anniversary project, the series is a callback to the original “Best Partner” character song album series that released during 02′s actual airing.

If you know anything about the original Best Partner series, it’s one that sets an insanely high bar, even for Digimon standards (and that’s saying something, given the deep associations this franchise has with music). The series of character songs before it, Adventure’s “Character Song + Mini Drama” series, has a…kind of questionable amount of relevance to each character; it’s not like they’re super amazingly out of character, but they don’t really tell you a lot about each character beyond some gloss details (this is probably best demonstrated in how Mimi’s song is blatantly just an AiM single disguised as a Mimi song). Best Partner, on the other hand, very intimately goes into each character’s head and their relationships with their respective partners, even putting in direct words what wasn’t stated explicitly in the series.

So does the new series live up to the high bar its predecessor sets? Answer: on top of some abnormal attention to detail on the covers, it is very obvious that the new series not only has a lot of the depth of the 02 characters in mind, but also is made in direct response to the original series itself. Moreover, putting the original Best Partner series and this one side by side reveals a lot about each of the 02 characters and what they got out of 02′s story, in a surprisingly neat summary.

Let’s go into how!

Since this is something that has a deep relationship with all of these characters in regards to the series, this particular meta would not have been possible without input from multiple people who know these characters better than I could ever hope to by myself. Thank you for all of your help.

A bit of historical context

The original Best Partner series consisted of a set of albums, one representing each pair of partners in 02. Notably, even though nowadays there’s a specific order of the Adventure/02 characters that’s used in modern media, not only does the original series not follow that ordering (as it hadn’t been set in stone at the time), it also leads with the original Adventure characters and not the 02 ones, which is pretty unusual for a series that’s ostensibly supposed to be for 02 (modern lineups will usually favor leading with whichever group the relevant product is branded with).

A lot of this probably makes more sense when you realize that the original Best Partner series was released during the first half of 02’s airing. The final album was released on August 23, 2000, four days before the fateful 02 episode 21 (yes, that means the third track on Ken and Wormmon’s album is actually a spoiler). So in other words, while the original Best Partner series accurately reflects the older Adventure group’s character development and what problems they were able to sufficiently overcome, the 02 group does not have anything about their character development from 02′s second half reflected in it at all.

That’s actually a really huge disparity, when you think about it, especially because a lot happened with the 02 group in that second half – that second half was where the emotional payoff and the results of everything that had been building up over that first half came together. So in comparison to the Adventure group, composed of people confidently talking about what they’ve decided for themselves from now on, you still have the 02 group drenched pretty deeply in insecurity. Watch 02 to the end and listen to those songs again, and you might even think “wait, this is supposed to represent these characters?” So, in essence, the new Best Partner series serves to address that gap, and what the 02 group gained and learned out of 02′s second half.

Best Partner (and its successor series for Tamers, Best Tamers) follows a uniform format: a solo song for the human partner, a solo song for the Digimon partner, and a duet between the two. (Given that, the original Best Partner series was really huge, at a whole 36 songs.) Recalling that, in the Adventure universe, a Digimon partner reflects the human’s inner self and psyche, it’s pretty extensive coverage: what the human has to say about themself, what place their Digimon partner is in relative to that, and what the nature of their relationship is due to that.

Let’s go into each pair of partners in detail!

Daisuke and V-mon

For those who love 02 and love Daisuke in particular, when you ask “what kind of character is Daisuke like?” or “what’s Daisuke’s best quality?”, you’re probably going to get answers like “forward-thinking” or “positive” or “good at uplifting others” – basically everything to do with how Daisuke is an encouraging presence who doesn’t give in easily and has a strong mentality of moving forward in the face of despair. Someone who appreciates and understands others’ best qualities, and loves them for everything they are. So when you look at his original Best Partner solo song, Goggle Boy…

But more than just saving the world I really don’t want to lose, you know

…Uh…

These goggles are my proof Given by a certain someone to me The precious thing he handed over It’s just like his Crest, you know Aren’t they cool?

…Well, that’s nowhere to be found.

This is the kind of song that might make you think “wait, this is supposed to be Daisuke’s representative song?!” (It’s possibly because of this that Daisuke’s song from The Bridge to Dreams, Tomorrow, generally tended to be far more favored among Daisuke fans, although it’s more relevant to 02 as a whole than it is to Daisuke in particular.) if you listen to Goggle Boy knowing about what Daisuke’s best qualities should be, this is almost a little frustrating, because this is the kind of thing he really shouldn’t be pigeonholed as – basically, begging for others’ approval and praise and focusing on idolizing others. Even his most insightful moments in this song come from his appreciation of something that came from someone else (Taichi), not from himself.

Well, the thing is, that was Daisuke’s character for most of the first half of 02. Of course, even in early episodes, there were many times where Daisuke’s potential for positivity and forward-thinkingness were starting to poke through, but most of the time he was rolling over trying to please others and chasing after his seniors. The real period of time he started to grow into his own about this was 02 episode 24 and its aftermath – when his time spent with his friends started to fill the void in his life and his need for validation, and the escalating situation, especially with Ken, led him to have a proper grasp of what was properly important and what needed to be done.

So when we get to his new solo, RUNNING MAN…

I’ll keep on running far ahead Let’s bring everyone along with me, today, too Really, always, thank you, Thank you so much Riding the wind, going past the sky Grasping your hands and flying I’m even starting to see beyond my dreams

Even in only one section, you can get an instant image of the Motomiya Daisuke we all know and love – someone who appreciates his friends’ role in his life, loves their company, and moves positively towards the future. Because, again, after the events of 02, and after being able to bond further with his friends and gaining his own strengths in leading everyone forward, he became able to more properly express his love for everything instead of constantly vying for others’ attention. Even the title reflects the change, from a “boy” who’s flashing the symbol of courage he got from someone else, to a “man” who’s positively running forward on his own merits.

(Interestingly, RUNNING MAN is composed by Ohta Michihiko, a legendary composer who’s made many of some of the most important songs in the franchise, and also composed many of the original Best Partner songs, including Goggle Boy. It’s interesting how RUNNING MAN is the one most like the original songs in atmosphere as a result – possibly representing how Daisuke is a simple-minded person who ostensibly doesn’t change drastically in disposition – yet has lyrical content that’s so starkly different.)

As a result, this is subtly reflected in the other two songs in each album as well – remember that V-mon is one of the partners who most “matches” his own partner in terms of disposition and mentality. So as Daisuke shifted his own priorities, V-mon did too; we go from Go Ahead! being about taking a stand and fighting, whereas Beyond the Future is about a similar forward-thinking mentality to Daisuke’s.

Likewise, the duets have different priorities as well; 2-TOP was composed of Daisuke and V-mon bickering for the most of it, and the most substantial point you could get about it was that despite their bickering, they made it work, whereas HEY-rasshai! has them almost entirely in sync (with one minor moment of deviance). It’s also interesting to see the topics covered in each; 2-TOP is about soccer, which ultimately is revealed to be a fairly incidental hobby for Daisuke, whereas HEY-rasshai! is about ramen making, which, while comical, also has a very strong tie to “Daisuke’s dream for the future, and his willingness to single-mindedly dedicate himself to something when it’s something he truly wants”. In other words, while Daisuke knew what he wanted since elementary school, it says a lot that he’s at a point where he and V-mon are now taking proactive steps to have that dream achieved, now that they’re able.

Ken and Wormmon

Like with his position in 02 itself, Ken’s is probably the easiest to see the contrast without trying too hard, but there’s still quite a lot to unpack!

When you think about it, in the modern era, it’s actually surprisingly hard to find stuff too relevant to Ken’s time as the Kaiser. The reason is, simply, that the series itself discourages this – Ken himself had an obvious aversion to dwelling too much on it, and the entire series itself has a strong theme of “moving on”. It’s not to say that the Kaiser doesn’t have a fanbase (I’m sorry if you’re reading this and find that I might be implying too hard that you don’t exist), but rather that there’s a franchise and fanart tendency to focus more on “Ken-chan” than “the Kaiser” these days, and old merch from the first half of the series will all too often get responses of “it’s really sad Ken-chan can’t be there…” Of course, 02 itself was also about accepting one’s mistakes, not pretending they never happened, so it’d be foolhardy to deny Ken’s dark history entirely, but it’s retroactively interesting to see such a prominent and persistent piece of merch like Ken and Wormmon’s original Best Partner album focus so largely on Ken’s time as the Kaiser when most of the franchise ended up trying to move on.

Starting with Ken’s solo songs, and his first one, ONLY ONE:

I’ve lived without showing my true feelings, wearing this mask

Well, this was easy to tell from the series itself, but the point driven home is that Ken didn’t want to expose his true self to others, putting on a front of “strength” and smashing his true feelings into the corner so that he could become more of the “perfect” person he thought he was supposed to be. There’s also another interesting line that one should pay attention to:

I polished the knife in my heart and put my belief in infinite power

Basically, putting up a defensive front to prevent anything from approaching his weaknesses.

Anyway, moving onto his new song, Never Ending:

If I want to be proud of tomorrow’s version of myself I wonder, what can I do? Never Give-up I’ll keep fighting, even doing someone else’s part No, I won’t be afraid anymore

First of all, the main theme of the song is about putting conscious thought into understanding how to stay true to himself – basically, understanding what it is he really wants to do and become, instead of putting on fronts and hiding it from others. Not only that, we see traces of what exactly he gained over the course of the second half of 02 – because so much of it involved constantly trying to blame himself for everything, this song is about what he came to learn in terms of proactively making it up and actively fighting forward. He’s working hard!

We also have this part:

The knife that’s pointed at someone, or at myself If it’s been let go of

Two things going on here: firstly, we have an explicit reference to the metaphorical “knife” Ken referred to putting up in ONLY ONE, talking about finally letting it go instead of bothering with this kind of front. He also points out that, in a sense, the knife was pointed at himself too, either in the sense of actually having hurt himself through this entire ideal, or in the sense that he constantly was trying to blame and punish himself for everything. None of that should be necessary anymore. Moreover, Never Ending contains a lot of references to “daily life” and the happiness that comes with the simplicity of just being alive – because that was indeed what Ken gained through his experiences, the ability to treasure living life in itself instead of aspiring to an impossible standard.

Another interesting thing about Never Ending is that it’s technically in a similar rock genre to ONLY ONE instead of being “soft”, like Ken’s personality is often thought to be. This was a surprise to a lot of people who commented on how surprisingly “cool” the song was, but this is actually completely in line with Ken arguably being one of the most openly assertive people in this group even after his reformation. Note that it’s very difficult to call this song purely angsty – it’s definitely positive and forward-thinking, and the chorus itself is partially in major key – but it has the vibe of someone who’s fully aware of everything that’s happened, is putting proper thought into it, and is pushing on despite everything. Remember, the intensity the Kaiser had originally came from somewhere; Ichijouji Ken is the same person, in the end.

In regards to Wormmon’s song, the contrast is also obvious: The Future You Dreamed of, the Future I Dreamed Of. is of course about Wormmon’s tormented feelings during the Kaiser’s abusive relationship with him, whereas can change it! is about its aftermath and how they made up (including copious references to the events of 02 episode 23). Even then, there’s a certain “forward-thinking” attitude that marks this song as being representative of being after 02’s events and not during – see the line “The mistake we made that day/is exactly the reason we’ll never let it happen again”, instead of the self-punishment and shame Stingmon expressed in 02 episode 26).

On top of that, the duet song Forever Adolescence also marks a subtle progression from the point they were at from True Strength – remembering that Best Partner 12 was released at a time when True Strength was actually a bit of a spoiler, while Ken and Wormmon obviously had made up by that point, the key line in it is still “everything truly begins from here”. So what, exactly, happened after that? According to Forever Adolescence, the decision made was to keep moving forward, and, moreover, to stay “the way they are”, especially with the nuance that it means it’s okay to not force oneself into the role of an adult and stay “young at heart”. This is really, really important in light of the events of Kizuna, the 02 group’s unusual role in it and its relevance to 02′s themes (more on this below), and how Spring 2003 referred to the pressure placed on Osamu as him being “forced to grow up too quickly” – in essence, Ken and Wormmon have firmly resolved to actively move away from that kind of pressure.

Miyako and Hawkmon

I’ve pointed out several times on this blog that the actual complex Miyako was going through in 02 was that she hated herself more than anyone else in the group would be willing to criticize her – and if you don’t believe me, it’s put in a pretty heavy-handed manner in her original song, Crash and Bingo!:

Fussing about it won’t get anything done But my selfishness and problems and panic keep coming out

…and even more viciously in her own and Hawkmon’s duet, Fly High:

I can’t do anything right, besides playing around with computers

or

Everyone would be still be fine if I weren’t there

If you thought it was subtle in the main series, it certainly isn’t here: Miyako considered herself good for absolutely nothing and unable to be accepted by others for being too useless – in these songs, despite Hawkmon’s attempts to uplift her, she criticizes her own messy tendencies and considers herself a burden. Best Partner is a positive series, so it still has the attitude of “we’ll try anyway”, but it’s clear that Miyako really didn’t have the highest opinion of herself at all. Hence, Fly High also shows off the worst of Hawkmon having to deal with the fallout – with Miyako flailing around in panic and considering herself good for nothing, he’s forced to carry her around.

But come Miyako’s new solo, From Spain with Love!, we see a huge contrast all over the place:

I, who have evolved into an adult make everyone do a double-take at me when I walk by!

Exhibit A: actual confidence in herself and ability to consider herself worth something;

If I can always, always be honest with myself Even if I don’t put together some program, even if I keep screwing up Ah, you understand me

Exhibit B: understanding that she’s worth something to others besides her utility abilities, and knowing that she has friends who’ll support her despite her flaws (which is very true);

When things are feeling hard, the first thing you should do is call me, okay? I’ll take the wings of love and purity, spread them, and get there as fast as I can Ah, I’ll open up any gate I need to

Exhibit C: indulging in her capacity for helping and supporting others;

Al mal tiempo, buena cara We laugh exactly when things are hard

Exhibit D: understanding the strength to get through hard times, instead of emotionally crumbling under the pressure.

Yep, that’s exactly what her character arc in 02 was about; 02 episode 31 was a huge turning point for her because, in the depths of her berating herself for her messiness and expecting Hikari to be secretly judging her the whole time, Hikari revealed that she was outright jealous of Miyako being able to speak her mind, and Miyako shortly after ended up showing her true capacity for reaching others who needed her help and supporting them, a role she ended up growing into for the rest of the series. Note that, other than the casual remark of confidence at the beginning, Miyako hasn’t necessarily become arrogant or anything – it’s just that, by focusing her energies into how much she loves everyone and turning her “nosiness” and “sticking herself into others’ business” tendencies into positive energy to help everyone, she gained more confidence in her ability to be loved and accepted by others.

This is reflected as well in her new duet with Hawkmon, where, instead of Hawkmon dragging her around everywhere, their differences and mismatched personalities are outright celebrated, and while Miyako still has awareness of her messy tendencies, she’s no longer letting it emotionally rip her apart and has confidence that Hawkmon can be by her side to help her through it. Perhaps reflecting that, Hawkmon himself goes from the over-the-top, dramatic, high-strung Knight of Love to the more calm and straightforward Gentle Tornado, perhaps because his own partner isn’t constantly bouncing off the walls recklessly nearly as much anymore.

Incidentally, it’s not like all of this is without nuance, either; even if Miyako’s become more of a confident person, she’s not all put-together. Considering that the entire song has her gushing about how she’d be willing to drop anything to go see her friends (which was pushed forward in Kizuna itself, what with her willingly taking the same request she’d refused to do earlier just because her friends were involved, and even inventing D-3 gate exploitation just to go see them), when you get to the end, and her gushing about her fun in Spain suddenly derails into reminiscing about the events of 02 episode 42, the implication is clear: for as much as she wants to be wholeheartedly enjoying this fun trip abroad for what it is, she can’t help but let her thoughts float back to memories and friends she cares about, and her bonus conversation with Hawkmon drives it in further that, ultimately, she dearly misses them too much.

Iori and Armadimon

Iori also went through some drastic changes in character over the course of 02, so when you look at My Conclusion, it’s basically Iori at his “worst” point of black-and-white morality:

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Evil will not be tolerated Even evil in itself will be defeated by justice That will always be a certainty in the end

I mean, let’s even consider the fact that the song is called “My Conclusion” in the first place. Iori’s slamming this all down like this is the end-all of everything, and you can’t change his mind! He does briefly admit that there are certain things reason itself won’t change, but it’s more like he’s on the verge of having an out, because in the end, really…

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Our enemies are beyond reason Again and again, to the very end They will certainly use cowardly means to come and attack us

Rationality. No feelings involved. Evil is evil, and justice is justice. No takebacks. Life exists by rules, and nothing else.

Message to the Future is possibly one of the most interesting songs in the original Best Partner collection, because it does actually provide hints about where Iori should be going in the future, and also has a lot of things that retroactively hit a lot harder from the meta perspective. The song fully fleshes out Iori’s feelings and concerns about how to grow up into a proper adult (which was hinted to be his real motivation as to why he was so strict with himself in 02), and that, most of all, what he wants is for his “feelings” to never change no matter what happens. Iori expresses concerns about how he might change as an adult to Armadimon, and Armadimon assures him that he’ll still be “Iori”, no matter what.

So, come the new character song collection, Iori’s new solo song is aptly titled “Things That Won’t Change” – because, in the end, despite everything that changed, his feelings did not. He says it himself: the important parts that he really wanted, the desire to do the right thing and to protect others, never changed a bit at all since “back then”. What did change, however, was his way of going about it.

Rather than what someone else has decided I’ve chosen my own future now

and again:

Rather than imitating someone else This is to shout out my own future

The emphasis on this being Iori’s own choice is important because Iori has finally decided not to live by strict rules imposed on him nor by imitating others (remember, part of the reason he kept doing what he did back in 02 was because he had such a strong belief “my father would have done this”). Others had been encouraging him to “make his own decisions” from the get-go – even Hida Chikara himself had told him that he was the one who needed to decide what to do in any moment in 02 episode 5 – and after dealing with a violation of his own morals in having to kill a Digimon in 02 episode 44, one episode later, in discussing with Takeru, Iori has to come to terms with the decision to continue fighting because “this is what I have decided myself”, because it’s not about whether he has an obligation to keep fighting for the sake of justice, but because he, himself, wants to protect others, and will do what it takes to do so. There’s no more of these strict rules of “because it must be this way” or the black-and-white morality that caused him to be so initially hostile towards Ken and Oikawa, but an understanding that these things need to be decided from the heart.

Moreover, unlike My Conclusion, Things That Won’t Change isn’t written like Iori’s turning in some school essay, but rather, more than half the song is in casual-form Japanese (which was associated with Iori when he became more emotional and wasn’t keeping himself in check anymore), and is more of a thoughtful reflection of his own feelings rather than trying to pass itself off as following rules because he must.

Thus, while the duet Choo Choo Tryin’ isn’t as heavy-handed as Message to the Future, Iori and Armadimon acknowledge that they need to be forward-thinking and keep going (generally tied to the message of 02 in itself), and Iori outright discusses the potential pitfalls of becoming too stiff. Furthermore, the song has copious rap portions, which seems rather unfitting for Iori on its face – until you realize that not only was Iori sometimes willing to indulge in more fun even back during 02 (just because he was strict with himself didn’t mean he was a complete killjoy), Iori’s also just a lot more flexible-minded in general, and has a penchant for wanting to do things right when he’s given a task. (His delivery of the rap in the song isn’t monotonous nor overly emotional, but has the nuance of someone who’s trying to recite all of it with caution.)

The part that’s particularly striking from the meta perspective is that Iori and Armadimon are no longer voiced by the same voice actress; Message to the Future was essentially Urawa Megumi talking to herself. So now, Iori has a new voice actor, and in many ways has become very different from Armadimon – but because Armadimon sounds a little like Iori, you could say he’s helping preserve the childish side of Iori that’s more important than ever to hold onto, especially since Iori himself worried about changing too much. And so, Iori’s still willing to indulge in a sort of “fun” song like this, and in the end, despite everything, you understand that they haven’t drifted apart at all in the slightest.

That’s not to say that Armadimon himself hasn’t changed either – in fact, he’s changed himself in response to how much Iori has. His original solo song had a lot of easygoingness to it, and some constant reminders for Iori to please, please chill – but his new one has a much stronger sense of resolve and forward-thinking attitude, reflecting that, while Iori himself technically had to learn to embrace more emotional uncertainty through the events of 02, it was also able to give him much stronger resolve that this was something he was doing because he was emotionally prepared for it, not out of some sense of moral obligation.

Takeru and Patamon

I’ve already covered Takeru’s original Best Partner song Focus and how it’s probably not about shipping as much as the fanbase tends to pin it as, but in any case, the operative part is here:

Before I knew it, I was watching over you Still standing at a skewed angle from behind The focus of your heart I wonder, is it on me, or… No, I can’t ask

Takeru couldn’t bring himself to ask sensitive questions or be straightforward about his emotions – which is basically what was Takeru’s lingering problem over Adventure and 02, that he kept swerving around or even lying about sensitive topics and holding everything inside, until one of his triggers was hit and everything exploded. Therefore, even when an important question about someone else comes up, he “can’t ask”. Moreover, for all Takeru is known as a lighthearted and kind person, Focus is a really turbulent song with a really harsh arrangement, and it’s a pretty accurate view of all the complicated and sometimes even negative emotions that Takeru was (badly) coping with over the course of 02.

This was the whole issue with Takeru and Iori’s Jogress arc in 02 episodes 34-36 – that Iori felt he couldn’t understand nor communicate well with Takeru, and had to eventually take matters into his own hands in order to properly understand his feelings. Takeru’s further interactions with Iori were significantly more straightforward for the rest of the series, and the experience also led to Takeru being able to more openly communicate with Ken as well, since the two had been on awkward speaking terms for most of the third quarter of the series.

So when we get to Step High Step…

You lament, you don’t have confidence in yourself I’m saying this to you as I’ve been watching you You’re amazing at all times

The song features Takeru being fairly straightforward about his feelings and opinions instead of just dodging it and going for an “everything’s okay” keeping-the-peace attitude, and not only that, he’s commenting on someone else, something that he probably would have refrained from in 02 for being intrusive. Of course, Takeru was always a nice person, but he wasn’t exactly straightforward about being nice back then – and yet here we are.

Since Focus is probably about his relationship with Patamon and how he kind of wasn’t exactly straightforward about his worries with him either (see 02 episode 34), it’s also interesting to compare Takeru and Patamon’s duet songs as well. Steppin’ out does portray a progression from Adventure in that they’ve accepted they can “do things over” again after things crash down (presumably referring to Angemon’s death and rebirth), but you’ll notice there isn’t much in the way of actual communciation between the two – something that’s not only present in Le Lien, but also portrays them as outright in-sync to the point of “telepathy”. We’re talking about a pair where the fanbase has historically had doubts about how similar they were back in 02 because of how “mismatched” they seemed!

Which, incidentally, they weren’t actually – you can see Patamon pretending he’s not about to cry in his original Best Partner song Don’t Stop Pata-Pata, much like how Takeru would cover up his own emotions, and gritting his teeth and resolving to fight harder. Meanwhile, while Ring of Smiles ostensibly continues to have Patamon be “sweet and cute”, it contains a lot of important nuances of “appreciating daily life with friends”, even if Patamon himself can’t quite find words for it – in other words, it’s actually some rather insightful and thoughtful sentiments from Patamon about the importance of being with and connecting with others, mirroring what Takeru himself learned in connecting with the others around him, especially Iori.

Hikari and Tailmon

Remember, Hikari has two lines (one in Adventure and one in 02) that basically summarize the main “issue” she was dealing with in both series: she was selfless to unhealthy levels, and would prioritize others’ welfare over herself to the point of self-destruction. So in her original solo Best Partner song, Gentle Rain, she puts it pretty explicitly:

I want to always be wearing nothing but smiles But I can’t be cheerful all of the time

or:

So that I can become a greater version of myself Please give me strength

All things considered, Gentle Rain is full of Hikari’s own insecurities, and her belief that she doesn’t have enough strength to do anything for herself. She makes references to being pulled to the Dark Ocean, mainly because – as she says – she doesn’t want to go there, but she doesn’t have enough strength or willpower to resist it. In fact, Best Partner 11 is full of a lot of angst; Gentle Rain is Hikari angsting about her own weakness and inability to do much for herself, Getting up is Tailmon angsting about her painful past and everything to do with it, and Shining Star is basically a plea for both of them to be able to do anything despite all the pain. It’s all pretty severely heavy content, despite the initial sparkly-looking sentiment of it all.

Considering the circumstances, it’s not really all that surprising. Hikari spent her time in Adventure and the first half of 02 very “emotionally isolated” from the others, to the point very few people could understand what she was thinking, and while she’d never hesitate to put herself out for other people, anything to do with herself, like getting pulled to the Dark Ocean, would result in resignation “it’s over” and “I can’t do anything about it”. Tailmon came from the background of being effectively raised by the abusive Vamdemon, so 02 was really only part of the earliest portion of her moving on with her life and being able to spend happier moments with Hikari. But, of course, the real turning point was 02 episode 31, when Miyako finally managed to break through to her and convince her to not accept the inevitability of things happening to herself, to accept help with the support of others, and to not take things happening to her as a sign she’s doomed.

So when we reach Hikari’s new solo song, Tomorrow’s Blue…

I want to chase after my dreams and hopes, it’s fine even if they’re incomplete I won’t lose, I won’t stop, I’ll do this to stay true to myself

The most striking thing about the song is that it features Hikari assertively talking about her own desires and feelings, when back in 02 she basically tried to kick them out of the picture for the sake of everyone else (and, really, even in Tailmon’s new solo song, Tender tale, she outright calls Hikari out for still prioritizing other people over herself). It’s not demeaning herself, it’s not resigning herself to anything, it may have a slight admission that she’s not super-confident about everything yet, but it’s still her looking forward and choosing to pursue what he wants. It’s a big deal!

And instead of the constant angst that permeated Best Partner 11, the new album is about Hikari and Tailmon talking about their feelings towards each other – something that neither of them really verbalized that well over either Adventure and 02 – and contextualizing their importance to each other over the course of their “story”. Hikari talks about Tailmon’s role of assertiveness in helping her break out of her shell, and Tailmon generally provides an extremely accurate description of Hikari in a nutshell – that she’s a bit mysterious, that she’s emotionally sensitive, that she’s cheerful and lifts others’ spirits. What’s more, Tailmon makes a reference to the same kind of “pain” and “losing things” she referred to in Getting up, but instead of angsting about it, she positively accepts it as something that may happen in the process of protecting others. (Oh, and it and the new duet A Tale of the Light also make reference to Hikari’s photography hobby in 02, contextualizing it as something Hikari did to chronicle their precious memories.)

So in summary, Hikari and Tailmon have both been able to accept 02′s philosophy of becoming forward-thinking, positive, and accepting the help of others in order to move forward. Not bad!

Conclusion and digression

Despite how these songs are almost polar opposite in portraying their before-and-after development of the 02 kids, nobody’s really argued that any of them are out of character! In the end, it’s a pretty succinct depiction of what these kids were dealing with and what they grew into by the end of the series. Seriously, I never, ever want to hear that these kids were underdeveloped nor that they didn’t go through any significant development over the course of 02 ever again. That’s just not true at all, and this simply happens to be one of the many illustrations of how.

Moreover, the songs themselves and the “conversations” that came with the new albums solidify firmly that the 02 group has extremely tight relations with their partners even at this time – with Daisuke actively consulting V-mon for help, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari actively dragging their partners everywhere with them, Ken having Wormmon be his effective alarm clock, and Iori being so close with Armadimon that his Nagoya dialect is rubbing off on him. Daisuke, Miyako and Hikari have a huge point made that, regardless of the rather easygoing way they’re going at it, they’re very aware of what they want to do from this point out and are following it with gusto (and while it’s not stated in words, Iori carrying a huge textbook, presumably a law one, with note markers all over it drives the point home that this applies to him, too). It’s a really, really huge contrast to what was going on with the directionless Taichi, Yamato, and Sora effectively neglecting their own partners back in Kizuna – and further reinforces the reason the 02 group was in such an unusually favorable position during the movie.

[drwcn]

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot. 

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins” 

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!” 

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.” 

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1] 

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???  

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?" 

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries. 

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?” 

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult. 

Unless he’s on acid. 

Well… okay, psych consult either way. 

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.” 

“....Thank you.” 

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed. 

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.” 

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.” 

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue. 

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.” 

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.” 

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her? 

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical. 

I must be the one losing, damnit.  

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me." 

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession. 

"She would forgive you." 

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but... 

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope -  but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace. 

[4]

— Did you love her? 

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough. 

— Do you love her still? 

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do. 

...

— Are you ashamed of it? 

...

— No. No I’m not. 

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team. 

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again. 

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.  

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then. 

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had. 

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance. 

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!” 

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng! 

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties. 

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -” 

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.” 

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly. 

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.” 

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.” 

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding. 

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen... 

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.” 

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.” 

“I didn’t fracture -” 

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.” 

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair. 

Shen Liang’s smile widened. 

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!” 

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam. 

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat. 

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.” 

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.” 

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...” 

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.” 

The boys agreed. 

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed. 

[carrotmakar]

undrunk

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When Y/N receives Harry’s wedding invitation with a picture of him that she took on it, she’s sent back to the night where she threw everything important to her away.

Warning(s): a relationship that’s not really a relationship, overall sadness, a flashback, alcohol, language, mistakes, and i didn’t go back and edit it, sorry :/

A/N: Okay I tried something just a bit different with this one so if you have any thoughts, please don’t hesitate to let me know)!! This is my second submission to nat’s ( @harrystylescherry​ ) song based writing challenge!! This one is based off of Undrunk by Fletcher, so if you haven’t heard that, I recommend giving it a listen either while reading or before!! If you couldn’t tell by the first submission I did, The Weekend and by this one, when I picked these prompts I was feeling just a bit messy, so just know that going into this!!! Also, a quick thank you to fay ( @glowunderthemoon​ ) for making this amazing visual!!!

Masterlist | Request + Inbox | Patreon 

A reminder to reblog the fics that you like before there are no more for you to consume!!

*

“Technically, he wasn’t an ex-boyfriend, but he was an ex-something. And ex-maybe. An ex-almost.” - unknown

There aren’t a lot of things about life that Y/N will openly admit that she regrets. She believes that she should live life to the fullest, and that has landed her in some pretty sticky situations. She doesn’t truly regret them, though. She doesn’t look back on them and wish that things had gone differently, mostly because the experiences that she’s gone through have made her who she is.

There is one thing that she wishes she could go back in time and undo, however. The one single night in her life that made everything take a full one eighty and sent her entire world spiraling.

It’s something that she’s tried her hardest not to think about since it happened, but when she got his stupid wedding invitation in the mail, with a picture of him that she took when they were still “seeing” each other, all the memories came washing back.

The moment she saw his smile brighter than ever, from the day they went to the pumpkin patch and he was so giddy to have something to decorate for Halloween that his dimples were popping and his smile was so big that it was almost contagious. The memory hit her like a truck, and now she’s sitting with her back against the counter, trying her best not to let the tears fall, because the second that they do, she knows that she won’t be able to get them to stop until there are no more tears left for her to cry. 

As the seconds pass, she begins to think about how much she fucked everything up, and it’s suddenly like she’s right back to that night.

<i> “Y/N, come on, we’re gonna be late!” Harry yells from the other side of her door. She texted him not even twenty minutes prior telling him to let himself in the door once he got to her place.

“Harry, you just got here!” she responds, looking in the mirror as she applies a layer of mascara. “Plus, I’m almost done, go sit down or something!” She hears him sigh dramatically before trudging off to sit on the couch until she’s done, or at least that’s what she assumes that he’s going to do. Knowing him, he’ll just go stand in the kitchen. She chuckles lightly at the thought, he’s such a weirdo she says to herself as she places the applicator back in the tube of mascara and screws it shut.

Standing, she takes a look at her outfit. The black material of the dress falls to her mid-thigh. The form hugs her curves nicely and the cut of the top shows off just the right amount of cleavage. She smiles at her reflection before slipping on a pair of silver heels and grabbing her purse, slipping her ID and her phone inside.

She saunters over to the door, and right before she twists the knob, she takes a deep breath. Tonight, she’s going to try to finally take things to the next level with Harry, and she needs to summon all of her courage to try that. They’ve been sleeping together for months, but Harry refuses to acknowledge that they’re anything more than friends. It’s tiring, and Y/N really needs to know if he’s worth holding onto or if she needs to let go and find someone else that will give her more than a fuck.

She twists the handle and swings the door open before making her way to him. Like she assumed, he’s sat on the couch, legs spread in a way that would look obnoxious if any other man were doing it. She doesn’t hesitate to stand between his legs and look down at him. He meets her gaze for just a moment before letting his eyes travel down her body. His tongue pokes out, running across his bottom lip. Her eyes follow the movement, watching as the skin becomes wet with his spit. It takes everything in her to will her mind away from other things that make his lips shine like that.

She opens her mouth to ask how she looks, but he circles his hand around her wrist and lightly tugs her down so that she’s sitting on one of his thighs with her side pressed against his chest. He dips his head to place a kiss to her lips, molding them together as he breathes in the scent of her vanilla perfume that she frequents whenever she wants to smell good but not have it be too overwhelming. He smears his lips across hers, fitting her bottom one between his two as he pulls her closer and deepens the kiss just a bit. 

When she whines into the kiss, he pulls away from her mouth, looking at her with hooded eyes. “You look absolutely fucking gorgeous,” he gushes, squeezing her closer to his body. “My girl is so pretty, I can’t even believe it.” Y/N’s cheeks heat up at him calling her ‘his girl’ and there’s nothing more that she wants than to really be his. 

Clearing her throat, she stands up as she pushes all thoughts out of her head. She doesn’t want to work herself up too early in the evening and then psyche herself out before she can even get the full courage that she needs to bring up the idea with him. She reaches for his hand and he gladly lets her take it in his own, squeezing it lightly before she pulls him up off the couch and over to the door. 

“Come on, Harry,” she mocks his tone from when he yelled through the door earlier, “we’re going to be late!” He chuckles lightly, shaking his head as he willingly follows behind her. 

He pulls his keys from his pocket and clicks the button to unlock his car. Once he hears the click of the doors, he pulls the passenger side open and ushers her inside the vehicle. After she’s safely inside, he shuts the door and walks around the car, slipping in himself before starting the car. 

“Are you not drinking tonight?” Y/N asks, finding it just a bit peculiar that he’s driving to a club when he hasn’t done so… ever. He always has someone else drive him because he always gets wasted when he goes out.

“Nope,” he states, shaking his head. “I want to remember tonight.”

The words have butterflies erupting in her stomach, but they also have it twisting into knots. There’s an unknown about why he wants to remember tonight. Is there something that he plans on doing that is too good for him to forget? Or does he want to end things and doesn’t want to forget to do so? 

She inhales shakily, pushing the thoughts from her mind as she sees the club come into view. Harry parks and opens her door for her, taking her hand and leading her into the building. 

Once they’re inside, he drops her hand and speaks directly into her ear so that she can hear him over the music, his breath making her skin prickle. “I’m gonna go get us drinks, yeah? Go find somewhere to sit,” he pauses for a few seconds, placing a hand on her waist. “Or go dance, know how much you love to do that.” She can feel his smirk against her skin, and it makes her melt as she stands there. 

When he pulls away, she makes her way towards a table near the corner, knowing that Harry will want a bit of solitude when they decide to just sit down and have a drink or two together. She takes a seat and pulls out her phone, wanting to look busy so that nobody would come up to her and try to talk. The only person that she wants to talk to right now is Harry.

A few minutes pass and she begins to grow just a bit bored. She knows that he had to go order them drinks, but it normally doesn’t take this long. 

When she looks up, scanning the room to find him, she sees something that makes her heart fall and her stomach clench in the worst way. He’s leaning into a tall blonde, his hand on her lower back to hold her closer to him just like he does with Y/N. The sight makes her sick, but what makes it even worse is the way that he laughs and his eyes light up more than they ever have when looking at Y/N, her heart cracks. 

Her first instinct is to go over to him and interrupt, but she doesn’t have any right to do so. He’s not hers. As much as she wants him to be, he’s not, and that’s something that she has to live with.

So, instead of going up to them, she puts her phone back into her purse and goes onto the dance floor, finding someone to dance with and not wasting any time in molding their lips together. It feels wrong, kissing someone that isn’t Harry, but he doesn’t want her, so she’ll just have to do everything in her power to forget about him, even if it’s just for the night. 

After a while of dancing and drinking things that she probably, definitely shouldn’t be drinking, she meets his eyes across the room and the look on his face makes her realize that kissing strangers while he was flirting with someone else probably wasn’t the best idea.

He just shakes his head before walking out. His head is hung low, and if it wasn’t for the low lighting that she swore had to be playing tricks on her, she would have thought she saw tears streaming down his face.

After she got home that night, she tried to text him, but all she got was a green message instead of a blue one. He blocked her.

All she had left of him were the memories that he had left and one single text message that she had received from him before he blocked her.

Thanks for letting me know that you didn’t want what I did, it’s what I needed to let go.

When she falls asleep that night, there are tears streaming down her face and her pillow is soaked beneath her.

Oh, how she wishes she could go back and erase every time she’s ever gotten drunk. That would solve a lot of things. If she hadn’t ever gotten drunk around Harry, they never would have started sleeping together. Which means that she never would have fallen in love with him, she never would have gotten jealous of him flirting with someone, and she definitely wouldn’t have kissed the first person that she laid eyes on to get back at him.

If she could just get undrunk one time, she wouldn’t be looking down at the wedding invitation that’s now stained with tears, wishing that it was her standing next to him in the engagement photos.

*

[marvelyningreen]

Linger

[Summary: You’d always struggled with your mutant abilities. Now, as doubts and frustrations weigh on your mind, you find encouragement from both a friend, and from a mentor.

Warnings: mild language

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, featuring Professor Xavier for platonic reassurance (because the world can always use more platonic fluff.) Set in a corner of the multiverse where the X-Men reboot timeline is happening largely as in canon, but the Dark Phoenix storyline isn’t. ]

You shut your eyes tightly. Focus, focus…

           With every fiber of your being tensed in concentration, you have to remind yourself to breathe. You should be able to do this.

           For a moment – for the briefest instant - you think you feel a lightening in your heels. But that realization breaks your concentration. With a sudden jerk – like the falling sensation that comes when you’re about to fall asleep – your heels thud back into the ground.

           You swear quietly under your breath, grateful that everyone else is busy with class at the moment, meaning they won’t see you out in the gardens. It’s enough of an embarrassment to be struggling like this without the added pressure of an audience. You’d better take a break, though, before you burst a blood vessel or something.

           You don’t even have a chance to register the impossibly fast breeze that shoots by you before you hear a familiar voice say:

           “Whatcha doin’?”

           And it nearly makes you jump out of your skin, just like every time.

           “Cripes, Peter!” you gasp, “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

           Peter’s grin turns a little sheepish, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

           “Sorry,” he says. “Hang on, let me try again.”

           And then he’s disappeared, and you hear the measured sound of footsteps on the paved pathway. A few seconds later, Peter strolls casually into view around the corner of the hedgerow. He pauses, spreading his arms and tilting his head slightly.

           “That better?”

           You can’t help but laugh. Somehow, even his sarcasm seems cheerful. You feel bad for being short with him, even if you were startled.

           “I’m sorry,” you say, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was just lost in thought, and you caught me off-guard.”

           “I’ll say. But my original question stands. What are you doing out here?”

           Even when he’s intentionally slowing himself down, Peter still talks quite fast. When you’d first met him, it’d take you a second to process what he’d said. These days, it’s easier for you to keep pace – at least with his conversation.

           “You’re asking me, the groundskeeper, what I’m doing out on the grounds?”

           You give him a wry smile, hoping the answer will throw him off track. You’re not sure you want to discuss your current state of mind with anyone, and especially not Peter Maximoff. You blink, and he’s standing much closer than before.

           “That’d be a fair answer,” he says, “Except for the fact that you forgot to turn the lights off in the cottage before you left, and you only do that when something’s bugging you.”

           Your brows furrow. “Did you just-?”

           “Nah.” Peter shakes his head. “I didn’t know where you were, so I swung by the cottage first. And you weren’t there, and you weren’t in the mansion, so I came looking for you out here.”

           You immediately seize on the opportunity to change the subject.

           “You were looking for me? Why, do you need something?”

           “Nope. I was just bored. But you’re out here looking like somebody took a hedge-trimmer to your rosebushes. What’s got you so frustrated?”

           He’s looking keenly at you with those big dark eyes of his, and you feel your resolve start to weaken. You turn away, trying not to make it obvious that you’re avoiding his gaze.

           “Don’t worry about it,” you say. “It’s nothing.”

           He’s right beside you now, and he nudges your shoulder teasingly.

           “Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?”

           “Peter…”

           He nudges you again. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

           His wheedling is unfairly effective.

           “I was trying to-”

But then you clam up. It’ll sound silly to say it out loud, especially considering your lack of success. Peter waits a moment, watching you expectantly.

“You were trying to…?” he repeats, when it becomes clear that you aren’t going to continue.

You know you can trust Peter. He might be inclined to use his powers for pranks, but he’s not the sort of person who’d mock you for your shortcomings. And he wouldn’t keep asking if he didn’t actually care to hear the answer. You sigh, gritting your teeth.

“I was trying to levitate,” you mutter.

Peter lets out an impressed whistle. “Levitation, huh? You’re swinging for the fences.”

“I’m telekinetic,” you say. “Logically speaking, if I telekinetically push against the ground, it should push me into the air. I mean, Mr. Lehnsherr can make himself levitate while only being able to control metal, right? I should be able to do this.”

Hank would be quick to point out that Mr. Lehnsherr is able to levitate by manipulating the earth’s magnetic field rather than by manipulating metal itself, but that’s hardly the point. And-

And now Peter’s laughing. You cross your arms, nonplussed.

“It’s not funny!”

“No, I know,” he says, “I’m not laughing at that. What’s funny is hearing you call him ‘Mr. Lehnsherr.’ Why do you always do that?”

“It’s not like I go around calling the professor ‘Charles,’” you argue. You feel a little disrespectful even saying it hypothetically.

           “Well, sure. ‘Professor’ is his title. But you don’t call Hank ‘Mr. McCoy.’”

           “That’s different,” you protest. “I can’t call my best friend’s dad by his first name. It’d be too weird!”

           There’s a second of silence as you both process what you’d just said.

           Sure, Peter is your closest friend, but you’d never said it in so many words. Did it sound silly? Did it make things weird? Well, it’s too late to take it back now. Peter grins at you, and he speaks before you can try to backpedal.

           “Alright, then as your best friend, I’m gonna give you some advice. You know what your problem is?” he says, wagging a finger at you. “You get stuck in your head and psych yourself out all the time. Here – I got an idea.”

           Peter reaches down to the Discman clipped to his belt and presses play, then skips ahead a few tracks. He settles one of his ever-present headphones onto his ear, and offers the other to you.

           You hesitate.

           “I’m going somewhere with this. I promise,” he says. He raises his eyebrows inquiringly, and extends his hand again.

           Peter smiles as you finally take the headphone and place it over your ear.

           “Now,” he says, “Just take a second and listen. Relax. Breathe.”

           Well, he might know what he’s talking about. You’ve noticed that live music is one of the few things that can get him to voluntarily stay in one place. You exhale, closing your eyes.

 ‘You got me wrapped around your finger,

Do you have to let it linger?

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?’

             You’d first met Peter a few weeks after you’d started working here at the school. One morning, this silver-haired young man with pretty, dark eyes and a charming grin had appeared at your door, introducing himself as Peter Maximoff.

           That in itself wasn’t strange. You hadn’t gone more than a day without someone stopping by the cottage to check on you, or just to talk. You were never certain, but you had a hunch those visits were at the behest of Professor Xavier.

           Peter, on the other hand? You’re pretty sure his visit was prompted by the scent of freshly baked strawberry pie emanating from the cottage’s tiny kitchen.

Peter was one of your most frequent visitors after that. He’s always happy to taste-test any and all baked goods you’d whip up. He’s good company, and easy to talk to. And if there are days that you don’t feel much like talking yourself, he’s easy to listen to.

Drifting back out of your reverie, you open your eyes to see Peter watching you. He smiles.

“Little better?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you say, quietly. “Thanks. It’s just… I’m so bad at this.”

           Peter frowns, confused. “Bad at what?”

           “This. All of it.” You gesture vaguely at your hands, and then at yourself, trying to indicate your own mutant abilities. “People hear I work at Xavier’s school, and they expect me to be like the Professor, or like Jean, or you.”

           “Huh. Not seeing the common thread there. What do you mean, like me?”

           “Like… Well, you know – exceptional. Important. But I’m not, and I never have been. You can do such incredible things, and I struggle more than half of the students. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I’d be better off back out there, pretending to be normal, instead of here, pretending that I belong.”

           Peter’s face had lit up for a moment at hearing you call him exceptional, but the smile faded as you’d gone on. Now he looks frustrated, and almost sad, but he quickly straightens up and looks you earnestly in the eyes.

           “So you’re not as powerful as Jean or the professor. So what? That doesn’t mean you’ll never get any stronger than you are now. And if you wanna talk about me, well,” Peter scoffs and spreads his arms self-deprecatingly, “I started out as a punk-ass shoplifter.”

           You laugh involuntarily. He’s so blunt and matter-of-fact about it that you can’t help it. Peter seems to take your reaction as encouragement.

           “And then I met the professor, and Hank, and Mystique,” he says. “And I came here. Look how much has changed for me since then.”

           You shake your head. “That’s different.”

           Peter cuts you off.

           “Listen,” he says. He steps closer, taking your hands in his. “Of course it’s different. You’re not me, and I’m not you. But don’t think for a second that you don’t belong here, because you do. And I… I want you to stay.”

Still moving at a normal pace – which seems oddly slow for him – Peter reaches up and gently brushes your hair behind your ear.

As his hand lingers, you lean your head against it ever so slightly before you realize what you’re doing. Peter hesitates for a second, and then that grin of his returns.

Slowly, still, he steps closer to you again, wrapping an arm around your waist, leaning in until his face is an inch from yours. He pauses.

“May I?”

“Yes,” you say, breathless.

And then he pulls you close, and your hand settles against the nape of his neck, resting against his soft silver hair, and all you can think is how long you’d been wishing that he’d kiss you. But Peter is a flirt with everyone, right? It’s part of his charm. You didn’t want to let yourself think that you were special to him at all.

But here he is – seeking out your company, kissing you in the gardens like the silly romantic that he is – and just for a moment it seems like everything else is drifting away.

Peter pulls back slowly.

“See, what’d I tell you? The second you stop psyching yourself out, you’re a natural.” Peter grins in response to your puzzled expression. “Just, y’know, don’t look down.”

“What do you mean, don’t l-”

And at this moment you realize that your feet aren’t touching the ground anymore. You’re floating, effortlessly, ten feet in the air with Peter in your arms.

Your heart lurches in an instant of panic, but between the music in your ear and Peter leaning in for a second kiss, you don’t lose control.

In fact, you find that you’ve gained it. In your mind, you press down experimentally, lifting the pair of you a foot or two higher, before gently lowering yourself down until you’re once again standing on the ground.

Peter opens his mouth to speak, and then seems to catch sight of something behind you.

“Oh, hey, Professor,” he says. “How long have you been there?”

Peter manages to keep an arm wrapped casually around your shoulders you whirl around to see Professor Xavier at the end of the hedgerow, watching you with an amused expression.

“Not long,” he says.

Damn it, you can feel your face going beet red. Peter coughs awkwardly, hurrying on to answer a question the professor hadn’t asked.

“We were just doing some, uh…” he catches your eye for a second, “Tutoring.”

You fight the urge to facepalm. Why couldn’t you have invisibility powers instead?

“A unique approach,” says the professor. “Peter, aren’t you supposed to be assisting with a chemistry lecture this afternoon?”

Peter grins.

“What, are you worried that I’m gonna be late? Me?” He leans back in to give you a peck on the cheek. “Bye.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with Professor Xavier. You’re scrambling to figure out how best to politely make your exit when the professor speaks.

           “It’s lovely weather out here,” he says. “Why don’t you walk with me for a bit?”

“Well, I… Uh… Okay.”

You fall in step beside his wheelchair, and the two of you go in silence.

Forget invisibility. At this moment, you wish that you were telepathic. That way, you’d be able to block the professor from experiencing the secondhand awkwardness of your flustered thoughts.

           As you’re stewing, you hear him chuckle.

“I run a school full of teenagers, you know,” he says. “That was hardly a shocking tryst.”

That’s a fair point.

“It’s also hardly the sort of thing you want your boss to walk in on,” you say.  Though the initial embarrassment has faded, you still feel a little nervous.

You’ve always been a bit in awe of Professor Xavier. He’s a kind man, and he has a knack for putting people at ease. But part of you worries about your lack of progress, and the possibility that others might think it reflects badly on him. You don’t want to disappoint him like that.

“I imagine you wonder, sometimes,” says the professor at length, “Why I don’t just use my own abilities to unlock yours.”

Your silence speaks volumes. He’s not wrong, but you don’t want to admit to it in so many words. The professor smiles faintly, and continues.

“I’ve seen what happens when someone unlocks the full extent of a mutant’s abilities in an instant. The results are… unpleasant.”

You don’t have to be psychic to know what he’s referring to. Four years ago, in Cairo, a being that the news had dubbed Apocalypse and his four power-enhanced lackeys nearly destroyed human civilization. It’s not surprising that the professor would be leery of using such tactics himself, and you know he’s right.

“And even if that wasn’t the case,” he says, “I’d be taking away your opportunity to grow into them on your own. And with that, there’s a risk that you might never fully understand and appreciate them, or yourself.”

           You know he’s right, again, but it doesn’t reassure you very much.

           “To be honest, Professor,” you say, “I don’t think I’ve grown at all so far. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Maybe I’m too old to start learning these things.”

“Nonsense.” The professor’s tone is a little stern, but still gentle. “You know, in many ways, you’re very much the opposite of someone like myself. While I was overwhelmed by powers I couldn’t control, you struggle to access a power that constantly eludes you. You know it’s there, just out of reach – like words to a song you can’t quite remember.”

           You sigh, turning your gaze to the ground. This is something you hardly need to be reminded of. Still, it’s a little bit reassuring that he can understand it without you having to fumble around trying to explain it. But what he says next catches you off-guard.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’ve been neglecting you.”

           Surprised, you look over at the professor. His brows are furrowed, and there’s something like regret in his eyes. You hurry to contradict him.

           “You haven’t!” you say. “You’ve got so many things to worry about already. If it’s not a crisis, it’s a catastrophe – and running the school on top of that? That all takes precedence; I understand that.”

           You understand, and you don’t mind. Much. The professor shakes his head.

           “It’s been relatively peaceful here for some time. You’re not a child, but you’re still my student, and I’ve neglected to see to your training. For that, you must let me apologize, and let me promise to make up for lost time. But in return, I’d like you to promise me something, as well.”

“Of course,” you say, mystified, “But… promise you what, exactly?”

“This school isn’t simply a place of academic learning,” he says. “It’s a place for people like us to find one another. Though our lives and experiences may be different, we give ourselves the chance to connect with each other, to learn from each other.”

           You’re starting to get his drift. “So… I’ve been neglecting my studies on that front, is that right?”

           The professor nods, but you don’t see disappointment in his expression – merely patience.

           “You have,” he says. “You believe that you’re weak, and because you’re ashamed of that weakness, you hide away and keep to yourself, but that only discourages you more. But if you stop running from yourself – if you were to reach back when someone reaches out to you…”

           “You mean, like… with Peter? Just now?” You sound silly even to your own ears. Your awkwardness seems to amuse the professor.

           “I don’t mean that exact method, specifically,” he says, biting back a smile, “But, yes. Perhaps a friendship like his is exactly the encouragement you need.”

           You fall silent again, considering this. It’s true; you haven’t mentioned your doubts and frustrations to anyone before now. You’d honestly expected to feel worse about opening up to someone, to feel the need to double-down on your self-sufficient attitude to compensate for any vulnerability.

           But you don’t feel that way. You’re still a little hesitant, sure, and you don’t expect that’s going to go away anytime soon. Still… this wasn’t the catastrophic moment of failure you’d anticipated. Peter didn’t laugh at you, or dismiss your feelings. He stuck by you and tried to help. You hadn’t expected that. It’s nice.

“I know you feel that you should be doing more,” says the professor, “But you must understand, what we’re working towards is a time when mutants don’t have to justify their existence through acts of dangerous heroism. What I hope for is a time when our kind is free to simply exist, using our skills to better our communities, our world, and ourselves, just like any other human being.”

You’re not sure how to describe it, but sometimes there’s something about the professor that’s so reassuringly, resolutely hopeful that it makes everything seem a little less dire.

“I know,” you say, smiling faintly, “But I still do want to help.”

“You are helping,” he insists, “Or haven’t you noticed how more and more students come out to the gardens to study?”

Come to think of it, you have noticed that. When you’d started working here, you could go weeks without seeing a soul outside, and now the garden is almost a more popular destination than the library.

“See, I knew it was a good idea to update the patio furniture,” you say. “Those old iron chairs are beautiful, but so uncomfortable to sit on for more than ten minutes at a-”

You break off, looking curiously at the professor, who’s smiling as he shakes his head.

“They don’t come out here for the furniture. They come out here to see you.”

You blink, surprised. That can’t be right. Or…

You think back to your first year working at the school. The students would gather on the grassy areas of the grounds, but generally not in the gardens themselves. You figured this had something to do with the rather austere layout and, after getting the professor’s blessing, you began incorporating more cottage-garden style flowers. It’d brightened the place up considerably.

One afternoon, as you were hauling wheelbarrowfuls of mulch, you came across one of the younger students. Said student literally had steam pouring from her ears as she stared at the schoolwork spread out on the bench beside her.

If only to prevent anything from catching fire, you stopped and asked her what she was working on. It was history homework, and she was having trouble memorizing the names of the important figures in the era.

Now, you may not be a particularly strong mutant, but you were usually good at school. You sat down with the girl and helped her figure out a mnemonic that made sense to her.

You saw the girl in the gardens frequently after that, and sometimes her friends would join her, and they’d flag you down to tell you what they were learning about. The gardens became a favorite study spot for older students, too.

You’d never really thought about it before now, but every time the students would try to catch your attention, it was to talk through a concept they were struggling with. Huh…

“You have a knack for thinking about things from a different angle,” the professor goes on. “Are you quite certain you don’t want to teach?”

You get the feeling he’s only half-serious, and you laugh. “Oh, I’d be useless trying to put together a curriculum. I think I’d better stick to giving freelance advice.”

“Fair enough. I can tell you this much,” says the professor, “There’s much more in you than you know yet. And, for what it’s worth, I’ve never seen Peter so content to pace himself in everyday life.”

           Yup, you’re blushing again. You can feel it.

           You’ve circled back around to the doors. To his credit, the professor seems to understand that he’s given you enough to think about for one day, and takes his leave.

           “Well, it was a lovely afternoon for a turn around the gardens,” he says, “I noticed that the zinnias are getting ready to bloom. Might I trouble you to bring some in for my study this week? They always seem to brighten up the place.”

           “Absolutely, sir,” you say. “And, Professor? Thank you.”

The professor smiles, and bids you good afternoon.

           As you walk away from the mansion, your thoughts turn back to Peter, and you smile to yourself. You know exactly what your next baking project is going to be: a chocolate cake with real buttercream frosting – Peter’s favorite.

           And suddenly, your arms are held out in front of you. In your hands is a little potted tea rose plant – the sort you’d find at a grocery store’s floral department. There’s a note stuck amongst the leaves, written in slanted, hurried-looking script:

           Figured you’d prefer something that lasts a little longer than a bouquet. See you tonight, maybe? <3 Peter

           He really is sweet. Ridiculous, but sweet. If you hurry to finish the last of your work, you’ll have just enough time to bake that cake before evening.

           You can picture yourself putting the finishing touches on the frosting, only to blink and find that a piece of cake is missing, and to turn around and find Peter sitting on your couch, already halfway through the slice.

           The thought makes you smile again. Carefully hugging the little rose to your chest, you hurry along.

[pixieungerstories]

Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole.  1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions.  Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth.  I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off.  None of the windows were smashed.  There were mature fruit trees in the backyard.  If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential.  The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced.  The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did.  It had a boiler.  I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning.  And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler.  The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them.  It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually.  It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house.  I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make.  I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound.  The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul.  Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen.  Not exciting, but satisfying.  Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access.  Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse.  I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in.  I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it.  The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch.  It was fine.  I understood completely.  I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all. 

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine.  I was young and healthy.  I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever?  I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight.  I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips.  I was so fucking thirsty. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me.  Chicken noodle out of a can.  It’s not that hard to make.  I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep.  Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night.  I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card.  So was the mattress and sheets.  It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them.  I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom?  I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors.   I must be losing my mind.  I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work.  I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down.  I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not.  I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.  

The watched feeling was worse.  I ordered some rat traps with my groceries.  I didn’t catch anything.  They didn’t take the bait.  I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning.  That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself.  Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud.  “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure.  “At least it is some sound,” I muttered.  “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback.  I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms.  The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks.  When I needed to actually go out, that might help.  In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind.  Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet.  Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.”  Shit.  I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily.  I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early.  In the morning there were footprints in the dust.  They weren’t mine.  They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human.  Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside.  I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house.  I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?”  I called from the doorway, ready to run.  I had no idea where I could even run to.  “Um…  Is anyone there?”  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Hi?  Um ….  I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here.  I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck.  The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting.  “I … uh…  I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here?  Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit.  That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said.  Oh.  “No, that was an accident.  I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that.  I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette.  I hadn’t smoked in years.    The sun started to go down and the bugs came out.  I was being eaten alive outside.  Going inside was scary but he was right.  He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door.  “Did you order furniture on my credit card?”  I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy.  I shivered and thought about going back outside.  The door pulled itself closed behind me.  I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything.  I could hear something breathing. I turned again.  Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear.  Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now.  “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence.  Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night.  I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room.  I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing.  I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate.  I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon.  “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet.  “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief.  I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now.  You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove.  My breakfast dishes were gone.  I found them clean and dry in the cupboard.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  He didn’t reply.  As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet.  The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating.  Or washing and drying the dishes.  I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor.  Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there.  I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it.  It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me.  I spun, there was nothing there.  “Do not open that door.  Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant.  I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again.  I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on.  Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen.  I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big.  He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong.  I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped.  “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows.  Go to bed.”

“Um…  I was thinking, that should be your room, really.  Your closet.  You picked out the bed.  I can just camp down -”

“No.  Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened?  I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I.  The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out.  “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that.  “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me?  What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep.  You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?”  he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”  

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one.  Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six.  It had been turned off.  The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs.  The air smelled faintly of solder.  There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker.  Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly.  I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home.  The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom.  I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone. 

Well, not gone.  I could see it installed through the holes in the walls.  I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water.  I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out.  Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months.  I tried all the taps and the toilet.  Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.”  It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker.  Nothing happened.  I growled as I plugged it in.  The power went out.

“Oh come on!  Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.”  It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t.  I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window.  The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days.  I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too.  Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it.  I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh!  Dude!  You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath.  “OK.  Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue.  “Do you?  Eat I mean.  Do you eat?  What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me.  I am not going to eat you.  Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden.  I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself.  The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie.  I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started.  Right! I thought.  Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends.  Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out.  That was just a thing now.  My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me.  That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others.  I hit the mute button.  “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you.  What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled.  I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago.  Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks.  Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go.  It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah.  Good night.”  After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat.  “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear.  I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed.  Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me.  The hands on my arms were cool and smooth.  “What are you?”

“I am me.  I have not asked your name.  You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail.  And my credit card.  You know my name,”  I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try.  “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side.  The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer.  The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.  

I sat frozen.  “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down.  I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”  

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut.  I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs.  I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix.  This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache.  I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.