#luckily they said dark jeans are fine too which i have plenty of

[oflgtfol]

needing to dress business casual for my new job. Actual suffering. how am i supposed to do this when my entire wardrobe is all just nerdy graphic tees and hoodies

[banditcoyote]

Wrangled and Tangled

Sasuga stood by the sink washing the last of the dishes from tonights meal. She smiled softly to herself as her tail flicked behind her, happy about the sets of cups and plates she had picked out, feeling domesticated and settled looking over the two sets of dishes her and her lover had shared, something about them in the drying rack felt almost romantic to her. But maybe it was just the way the sunset was showing so pink and purple over the water that was making her feel that way, the cool summer breeze blowing in from the open Lanai. She hummed to herself a little as she dried her hand and reached for the first plate, ready to dry them herself, when the dish cloth was plucked out of her hands swiftly.

“Let me take care of that.” Simon said perching himself onto the counter and starting to dry one of their plates.

“All the left overs put away?” she asked leaning against the counters and bringing her wine to her lips.

“Most of them.” he said with a nod. “Except for the second helping I couldn’t resist, which is now residing in my stomach.”  

She laughed lightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a nod, moving to cozy up to him just a little bit, her eyes full of warmth, and maybe a bit of mischief. “Maybe we can enjoy some other things when you’re done putting those dishes away.” She said with a curl to her lips.

Simon returned the smile and took a moment to lean down to kiss her easily, drawing back with a little hum. “I can think of some things for sure.” He added. “But before we get too distracted.” He placed the clean plate down on the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box and placing it on the counter next to her hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Sasuga froze at the sight of the small velvet box and her large eyes went wide, slowly looking up into Simon’s face, searching for the meaning.

Simon at once realizing what she might have thought smiled and blushed. “I know we’ve talked about it, but this is just a promise ring.”  Sasuga let go of the breath she was holding with some relief. He picked the box up and opened it. “See?” inside was a thing gold band with a small rose quartz crystal cut into the shape of a heart that side horizontal to the finger. He reached for her left hand and slid it on to her ring finger kissing it into place. “I love you Sasuga, I know that this might not be perfect, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Sasuga looked to the ring on her finger, feeling tears pull at the corner of her eyes. He hopped down from the counter “Oh no….is it too much? I know we said we weren’t going to do anything, that dinner was enough but-“

She shook her head “Don’t be stupid.” She said choking back her emotions. “I love it. I love you….Thank you.” She looked at the ring again before reaching up to tug on one of his horns pulling him down into a kiss. “Forget the dishes….come on.” She said, her tail already snaking up around his waist to guide him toward their bedroom.

Coyote woke up with a start, staring up into the dark ceiling above him. He contemplated for a moment what that dream could have meant, and his jaw tightened in his face. Did Sasuga sleep with Simon while he was away, it was the only rule he had given. Or maybe that had made the whole thing more enticing for the two of them. Still, why would Sasuga end up with Simon, he had the feeling he was absent, that house not looking familiar to him in the slightest. He closed his eyes again, almost willing it to come back to him, but some of the finer details were already fading from his memory, and all he remembered was the way the pair looked longingly at each other before they kissed. He gave a little growl and pushed himself up quickly to throw on some jeans and a shirt.

“Coyote?” Shishi asked lifting his head from where he was curled up on one of the pillows. “Where are you going?” he asked rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“I’m heading back to the Makai” he told Shishi as he pulled his shirt down over his torso.

The imp eyed the view appreciatively before his senses snapped back to him. “Should I be worried?” he asked knowing of Coyote’s sometimes prophetic dreams, and he wondered if he had some type of vision of Sasuga’s fights. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Coyote shook his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that it’s….” only he wasn’t entirely sure he could begin to really understand it himself. He shook his head “Sasuga’s fine. I just need to see her. I only had that one other show at the end of the week anyway, stay here, I’ll go tell Russell to pack everything up and head on home. You’ll be fine finding a flight right? I mean, stay the night, don’t leave on my account.”

Shishi laughed “Oh it was that kind of dream was it?” he grinned. “Okay, Well, tell her I said hello and get back safely.” He said as he yawned and laid back down to sleep. “I’m sure Kurama and Gatlin will be happy to have me home, if they haven’t torn each other apart yet…”

Coyote slapped on his cowboy hat and grabbed a jacket though he felt his skin burning. “And you remember what we said about this right?” he asked as he headed toward the door.

“My lips are sealed.” Shishi murmured. “Not a word to anyone”

“Especially to Sasuga.” He confirmed hand on the door.

“Especially Sasuga.” Shishi promised “She’d probably be more upset with me than you anyway” and waved him off.

Coyote found himself easily at his ring manager’s trailer, pounding on the door. He felt bad to be waking Russell up like this but he knew he couldn’t just disappear in the middle of the night and leave Shishi to explain for  him, things looked weird enough having him around. Russell answered the door, looking as if he was still blinking back sleep. “Coyote, everything alright?” he asked looking around.

“No…Um no, there was a fire back at the ranch.” He said lying on his feet. Thinking easily of the fire at Thom’s he could use as a cover even if the time line wouldn’t match up. He figured it would never get back to Russell anyways. The manager looked concerned. “It’s nothing big, a small one thank god, no one hurt, but I really should get out there, I know we only have the exhibit at the end of the week so I was just going to head home now. Would that be too much of a pain for ya’ll to handle?”

Russell cleared the sleep from his eyes with his hand “Yeah, yeah I can handle it no problem. Take care, hope it’s as small as you say.” He said and headed back to his bed.

Coyote made one more stop, saying farewell to Poncho in his trailer, before he headed towards the nearest portal in the woods, which was still pretty far, and Coyote had to be careful no one saw him as he slipped into the woods and transformed, having to sprint as fast as he could to reach the portal before daylight. He was glad he had the foresight to try and keep his motorcycle as close to him as possible, as the only other way he could have gotten there was to fly back home and then race to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being on a plane the way he was feeling.  All cooped up without being able to run or move, or do anything. It would have been torture, not like the past few weeks hadn’t been. The time away from Sasuga had been harder than he’d like to admit, and he already knew he would never plan on being away from her like this again. All the time away from her he had felt like pulling his skin off. He had helped Thom around her house before he left, and at the rodeo he did more of the manual work than anyone really wanted him to. He ran Poncho as often as he felt he could without causing the poor animal too much strain, and then would run laps as fast as he could as long as he could well into the night. But it was never enough, the women that tried to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the rodeo corral still enticed him to the point he had to nearly run back to his RV. All that hair, perfume, and how the hell where they making such good bras now adays? Though he was sure that some of breasts out there weren’t only held up by a bra but maybe some type of surgery, that didn’t sway him away any. Then the fact that in some of the more populous areas there were actual demon women in the crowds, and those he really had to avoid. He was sure they’d sense something about him, and he was doing his best to be incognito. Luckily his prior years of fooling around with plenty of the women at these things rarely had any of his crew spotting him being social, so now that he was hiding out on his own it went unnoticed. Coyote tried to run himself ragged, exercise, the rodeo, his variety of plants and a few sex toys paired unironically with the body pillow he had snuck on board, none of it had done the exact trick. Which had then led him to call Shishi. It had been a long shot, but it didn’t take much convincing getting him to come out to see him in secret, even if he was a bit miffed at having to mostly stay hidden at the events. Coyote let him have the pass into where the wives or girlfriend’s normally sat, and he posed in his refinery during the events when it fancied him. It had helped tire him out, but he still hadn’t been getting enoug

He thought he could remain out here for the full month, and they had gotten so close, it was almost silly to run now. But after the dream with her and Simon he just couldn’t deny the ache he felt for his mate any longer and he had to find his way back to her. Dawn was just about to break as he reached the portal and he wasted no time heading through it and heading towards where he had hidden his bike. He felt like a dog that had gotten a scent, and he wasn’t going to rest until he got to her. **** Four days later still hours from dawn, Coyote stashed the bike behind the hotel, barely taking care to hide it, and stumbled into the lobby. He had all the faith in the world that Sasuga was still in the tournament, and held the most hope that meant she was still in the hotel room that he had the key stashed for. He limped into the lobby where the clerk paled at the site of him. “Sir….” He said rushing around the desk and towards him. “Do you need a medic?” he asked looking him over.

Coyote didn’t waste the energy to speak to him and only shook his head as he stumbled forward before catching his balance again. He knew what he looked like, but wasn’t stopped as it was clear the clerk in his pristine uniform was afraid to touch him at all.

“Is there someone I can call?” he said walking along side him as Coyote shuffled to the elevator, bracing himself against the lobby wall and causing a smear of blood to press into the wall paper.

Coyote considered it for a moment, but shook his head again. If Sasuga was still in the tournament this late in the game there was a chance she was injured as well, and he wanted her to save her strength for fighting. He’d be okay. He just needed a shower, some stitches, and her.

The clerk did not follow him into the elevator, being the main hotel for the tournament he was surely not the only injured guest they received, and he retreated back to their desk, probably to call for maintenance to clean up whatever other mess Coyote had left behind him. He leaned against the wall as it started it’s ascension toward the upper floors, again leaving a smear of dirt and blood where his shoulder braced himself. A few droplets of blood dripping from somewhere onto the floor. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach it’s destination, the doors pausing once as a couple was about to get on, but after seeing him let him go on without a question. Coyote almost passed out, unsure if it was from blood loss or exhaustion, but the dinging and wooshing of the doors riled him, and he staggered out into the hallway. Knowing he was so close to Sasuga spurred him on, and he was relieved to find that the card key still worked. He let himself into the hotel room, finding it dark and quiet and he did his best to move with stealth into the bathroom. He passed the bed and spotted Sasuga sleeping peacefully by herself, he was grateful for this because with the rage that was still somewhat in his veins if he had found Simon with her he might have taken a regrettable action. In that moment iat took everything in him to not simply cover her with himself, though with how dirty he was he knew it would only concern her more. There was blood in his mouth and under his fingernails, matting his hair down and sticking to his hat. Better to clean himself up first, and he shut the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light.

He did his best not to look at himself in the mirror, but finding it a necessity to assess some of the damage. If he had made it this far like this it couldn’t have been too bad. Still he was in rough shape. Not only was his face cut, bruised, and swollen, but he had also lost enough weight that he appeared gaunt under the torn and dirty clothes he wore. He slowly undressed, assessing each wound, fresh bruises forming on top of old ones, some cuts that were still bleeding every time he moved, gashes that would no doubt need to be closed up. He hissed as some of the clothing stuck to him where blood had dried, let his effects fall to the floor, his gun empty and tucked back in his holster, and stepped into the shower letting the water strike at his feet until it was warm enough to step into. He braced himself against the wall, letting it flow over his hair and down his back, feeling the sense of relief start to fill him as well. He had made it, he was close to resting, and he was close to his mate, that was all he could ask for right now.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Competition - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff(ish), Crack, Jealous Bakugou, tatted Bakugou Cuz we love a lil spice

Summary: You were doing homework online with your friends when a needy Bakugou wanted your attention and was pouty when he didn’t get it. After Mina slipped up and said something stupid, Bakugou assumed horrible things and went over only to find out something so very comical.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

You were in your second year of college and the work was killing you. Thankfully, this time around, your assignment was the slightest bit easier, as it was a group project. You, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina were currently working on the project through the computer while being on video chat. The night was still young and you still had plenty to do.

“Okay, after I type in this paragraph, what should the next section be abou-“ You were cut off by the sound of a little French bulldog barking and scampering your way. The cute little black dog jumped onto your lap and made itself comfortable, causing you to look down and smile at it before petting it’s ears.

“Awww, look at the little puppy!” Mina said.

“He’s cute, right? I’m watching him for my neighbor while he’s at his football game.” You explained.

“You live next to a football player?!” The pink girl exclaimed.

“I do,” you said with a smile.

“Figures. I live next to an old man who likes to throw lemons at me!” She ranted. The group all laughed at her before continuing the job.

You all worked and finished about 4 pages of the assignment. While in the midst of the 5th page, your boyfriend requested to join your video chat. “Oop, hold on. Suki’s asking to join.”

You added your junior high school sweetheart to the call and was met with a frustrated pout. “Hi babe!” You squealed.

The group all tried to say their greetings to their friend but he spoke before they could. “Where have you been?”

“What? At home.” You said.

“I’ve been calling you, texting you, and basically blowing up your phone, and you haven’t been answering for hours!” He whined. His friends got a small kick out of seeing their tough friend be a softie for his girlfriend and remained quiet to enjoy the show.

“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework and-“

“What is that? Why do you have that animal on you?” He interrupted and asked as he slanted his eyes towards the small canine.

“It’s my neighbor’s dog,” you said with a pitched voice as you cradled the pup closer, almost like you were defending it’s honor.

“Her neighbor, the football player.” Mina mentioned with a sly voice. You shut your eyes and released a slow sigh as you knew what was coming.

“Football player?!” Bakugou shouted.

“Why? Why would you say that?” You said to Mina with a disappointed tone. She was one of his friends, she knew what the reaction would’ve been.

“Sorry,” she genuinely said.

“Why are you doing favors for some football player and what is he doing for you?” Bakugou seethed.

“There’s nothing going on, he’s just-“

“I’m coming over there.” He blatantly said.

“No- no. You don’t need to-“ without letting you finish, Bakugou signed off and went to get ready for his leave. You sighed at your jealous boyfriend and threw shady eyes towards Mina.

—

Some time had passed and your group had finished the 7th page. Almost done! Thank god for this being a small little assignment. Unfortunately, your boyfriend’s little fuss put you all behind schedule a little and it didn’t help that he finally made his arrival to add a little more drama to the show.

A bang was heard at your door. “Open up Y/N!”

“Uhh, I think you’re getting robbed Y/N.” Kaminari said.

“Nah, it’s just Suki.” You said to the blonde through the screen. You then turned to your front door to speak to your boyfriend who was on the other side. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Bang! Bang! Bang! “I need to talk to you!” He said.

“Sorry, door’s locked!” You replied. Unfortunately, the door busted open and you sighed in frustration. “And now it’s not.”

“He has a key?” Kirishima asked.

“No, he has a foot.” You said and then turned to your boyfriend with a sarcastic but also genuine smile. “Hi baby.”

And now here stood your angry boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki. He was dressed in his combat boots, a pair of black jeans and a white tee. He held a dark green bomber jacket in his hands that he wore due to the slightly cold weather out in the night. With the jacket off, his fully tatted arms were exposed along with the few tattoos that adorned his neck. He had his silver chain on along with a few rings and his cross piercing on his left ear and a few other random ones on his right. To anyone else, your boyfriend looked like a ruffian especially with his motorcycle that was surely parked out front. He definitely was an attractive man. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and you felt so blessed to have him and have him want you and only you.

He looked like the typical bad boy who was mean as fuck and also happened to be good at everything he did. In reality, he was just your Suki who was a softie that can be a little tempered at times. Like right now.

“What is going on?!” He asked in frustration.

“You just kicked my door open!” You said as you pointed to the evidence.

“Put the dog down and tell me about this football asswipe who lives next door!” He demanded.

“No! I will not put the dog down!” You said, cradling the sweet baby even closer.

“Oh you’re not?!” He said in a threatening tone but you knew your boyfriend would never do any real harm.

“No! If you want to meet the football player then you can wait to talk to him when he gets back.” You said.

“Then I’ll wait for him!” He said, taking a seat a little bit behind you from your setup on the couch’s ottoman.

“Fine!” You said, turning back to your friends. After a second, you realized something and turned back to face him. “No kiss?”

He only stuck his tongue out at you to which you pouted in anger and did the same before turning around. However, you smiled once you felt him come up from behind you and place a peck on your cheek before going back to his spot on the couch.

“Awwww,” your group of friends cooed to which you and Bakugou both smiled and rolled your eyes.

—

Some more time passed and eventually, Mina and Kirishima both grew too tired (thanks to that college schedule) and signed off for the night. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one who stayed up with you to continue to do the work and was more than happy to help.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” You said to the electric blonde.

“And me.” Your boyfriend said with sass in the background of your screen.

You and Kaminari continued to work until you got to the 15th and final page. Like what was previously said, very easy, very simple, very short. All you had to do was finish this last page and you’d be done! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans and an expected knock was heard at your door.

“Ouu, is that the football player?” Kaminari cooed and teased knowing Bakugou would hear.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come in!” You kindly called.

“Yeah, COME IN!” Your boyfriend rudely said, setting himself up to sit a little straighter and look a little meaner.

To his surprise, in came a young boy who was dressed in his school representative hoodie and a pair of sweats. “Hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ryu!” You said to the young boy who took a seat next to you. “Katsuki, this is my next door neighbor, Ryu. Ryu, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki.”

“Nice to meet you mister!” The boy said with excitement as he looked towards your “scary” boyfriend in the back.

“Hello Ryu.” Your boyfriend said in a defeated tone that he hid with a smile and wave towards the little boy. You smirked at your boyfriend as you recognized his tone. The tone he usually had when you proved him wrong. Ryu being the sweet boy he is also waved towards your friend at the camera to be polite.

“What’s up little man,” Kaminari said as a greeting. Ryu turned to you to pick up his little frenchie.

“Thanks for taking care of Natsu!” He said sweetly.

“Anytime kiddo!” You said, giving him the dog. Ryu pet his pup for a second before looking back at Bakugou and whispering to you. Luckily, it was loud enough for Bakugou to hear.

“Your boyfriend looks really cool!” He whispered excitedly.

“I know!” You whisper-yelled back with a smile. Kaminari let out a little laugh while Bakugou had a sad face. He felt guilty for wanting to come here to beat the shit out of a football player, only for that football player to be a cool lil kid who thought he was pretty cool too.

“Well thanks again! Bye now!” Ryu said before getting up and leaving with his dog. You waved at them until the door shut, you crossed your legs and smiled as Katsuki got up with a sigh and took Ryu’s seat next to you.

“Wow Bakugou, looks like you got some competition!” Kaminari teased. Bakugou only sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand before feeling you push on his shoulder.

“You gonna say you’re sorry~” you teasingly asked.

“You didn’t tell me he was 9!” He argued.

“You didn’t give me a chance!” You laughed out. Bakugou flopped onto his back as he began bantering with you. You both went back and forth and Kaminari chuckled to himself before signing off to let the cute couple have their time in privacy.

Bakugou remained on his back until you poked his face and he grabbed you before flipping the both of you over so that you were under him. He flopped down onto your body, getting comfortable on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair in a successful attempt to soothe him.

“Just wanted some attention from my baby.” He muffled out with a small blush. You smiled and looked towards your screen.

“Well Kaminari signed off, Natsu’s gone, and it’s just you and me. You now have my undivided attention, Suki.” You said. Bakugou sighed in content before going up to place a kiss on your lips.

“Good.” He said before tucking his head into the crevasse of your neck. You held him close while he played the small spoon and you both cuddled up nicely. If it was attention he wanted, it was attention he’d get.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 7

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

Word Count: 4.1K

__

Due to the small size of your town, you had to drive three full hours to a larger airport with flights that were going to New York, where Levi would board a plane that would take him across the ocean. To say that the car ride was awkward would be an understatement, at the last moment Kenny had decided that he wanted to see his nephew off, so you had to leave earlier than planned to pick him up. Luckily there was plenty of room in Erwin's old mini van for all of you. Your mom drove, Kenny sat in the passenger seat, Erwin and Levi sat in the middle row, leaving Hange and you crammed in the back with Levi's luggage.

Your mom and Kenny were getting along well as far as you could tell, talking about their jobs and holiday plans.

"Hey, why don't you join us on Christmas?" you couldn't help but gape in surprise at your mother's words. Kenny scoffed and shook his head, amused at her suggestion.

"That's kind of you but I wouldn't want to impose." the man said, shaking his head as he chuckled at your mother's words.

"No seriously, we have plenty of room and besides my brother is bringing one of his good friends." your mother shrugged, her eyes still trained on the road. You noticed that Levi and Erwin both had tensed in front of you, trying to seem uninterested in the conversation happening in the front of the car. Hange had both her ear buds in so she was completely oblivious to the conversation.

"Well, it would be rude of me to say no now wouldn't it?" Kenny smirked at your mom who only smirked and nodded in agreement.

"It would be pretty rude." she teased, Kenny smiled impishly at her before turning to look out at the passing scenery.

__

As expected the airport was bustling, families rushing into the building and cars lined bumper to bumper picking up people and dropping them off just the same. Business men in suits were everywhere, as were recreational travelers dressed in sweats and casual wear. Your mom parked the car and all of you helped Levi gather his bags. You watched as Levi tugged at the neckline of his black hoodie before slinging his carry on bag across his back. Erwin sat his large suit case down in front of Levi, who was dusting himself off. Once Levi was pleased with his appearance you all made your way into the airport, it wasn't long before you had weighed his luggage and were heading towards security. You came to a halt outside of security, stepping aside so you could say goodbyes without hindering other travelers. Your mom was first, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to Levi, a soft smile on her lips. Levi furrowed his brows and took the envelope to examine the contents.

"Think of it as an early birthday present from all of us." Your mom explained as he pulled the flap back his eyes widened and he quickly shoved the envelope back towards your mom.

"I can't accept this." he said as his face turned dark.

"Please, you don't have to spend it." your mom urged, pushing the envelope back to his chest. He rolled his eyes and slung the backpack off his back to push the money into the bag.

"Fine, thank you very much." he murmured as he heaved the bag back over his shoulder. Your mom smiled sweetly and pulled Levi into a hug, he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to hold him. After your mom let go of him she patted his shoulder affectionately. Erwin was next, he shamelessly hugged Levi who awkwardly patted his broad shoulder, the hug wasn't long which wasn't surprising. As soon as the pair separated Hange jumped Levi and rocked him as she held him tightly. Finally it was your turn, just like all the other hugs Levi only wrapped one arm around you, and the embrace was brief. He didn't hug his uncle, only nodded tersely in his direction, Kenny returned the sentiment and then Levi grabbed his bag and stalked towards the long winding line to get through security.

"Have a safe trip Levi!" Hange yelled, waving enthusiastically after him.

"Don't forget to call!" your mom called, an affectionate smile on her face. Levi simply lifted his hand lazily to acknowledge the two as he got in line. As soon as you were sure that he was well on his way to reaching his flight in time your little group made your way back out to the parking lot to start the long drive home.

__

Traffic had been horrendous on the way back home, making the drive about an hour longer than it would have been. Your mom invited Kenny over for tea, and to your surprise he agreed. Erwin and Hange already had reservations at a local Italian restaurant, and you would rather be caught dead than spending the rest of your day with your mom and Levi's eccentric uncle. So you texted Jean.

"Want to do homework tonight?"

"Of course, name a time and place and I'll be there ;)"

You smiled at your phone as you typed out a quick reply.

"How about the Cover Cove around 5:00?"

"Great, I think that they have a live band playing tonight."

"Really? That sounds fun, is that going to bother you if we're trying to study?"

"No, I don't expect to do much studying anyway...I'll be too distracted by your beauty."

You rolled your eyes, he's always so cheesy. You chuckled and replied with a laughing emoji and a heart emoji. Not long after you sent Jean your reply your mom pulled into your driveway and parked the car. You all piled out of the car and into the house, your mom and Kenny settled into the kitchen while Erwin and Hange slunk off into Erwin's room to get ready for their date. You retreated into your own room to prepare your things for your outing this evening. You changed into a pair of mom jeans and a white chunky knit sweater. You packed your bag and checked the time, you had about thirty minutes before Jean would come pick you up. You wandered down the stairs to grab a snack, your mom and Kenny were still in the kitchen drinking tea, you'd only seen Kenny a handful of times. Whenever you had seen him he wore a scowl or a smug smirk, but this time he looked thoughtful, and intrigued.

"-so in order to stop the bleeding I had to stick my fingers in the wound." your mom was waving her hands with enthusiasm as she recalled the events of one of her favorite ER patients. A story that you knew well, a man came in with a gun wound, he'd been shot by his buddy on accident while they were out hunting. To stop the bleeding she had stuck her index finger and her middle fingers into the wound. At the time she had only been working at the hospital for about a week, she swears that this event paved the way to her becoming head ER nurse years later. You fixed yourself a simple sandwich and slowly began to eat it, only half listening to your mother and Kennys' conversation.

"Wait wait wait, so you're telling me that you stuck two fingers in that man's thigh?"

"Well yeah of course!" your mother scoffed into her tea cup, clearly pleased that she had captured Kenny's attention. You wondered what Kenny did for a living. Your eyes flickered to his hands, they were slender like Levi's, but they were rough with callouses. He was thin, but muscular, sharp features, cheekbones that could probably cut diamonds. If you were to see him from behind one might think that he was no older than thirty five. But the lines on his face gave away his true age, his eyes were outlined by crows feet and dark puffy bags. His beard was scraggly and reminded you of the way that the Amish men wore their beards. You were startled when your mother stood and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with Kenny.

"Take a picture it will last longer." Kenny drawled as he dunked his tea bag in and out of his cup.

"I'm good." you squeaked, a wave of embarrassment crashed over you, a bit ashamed at being caught. He made no move to continue the conversation but you were still to curious about why Levi despised him so much.

"Your mom makes a mean earl grey." Kenny's deep baritone filled the silence once again taking you by surprise.

"She does." you agreed, you glanced at the clock, only ten more minutes. Kenny watched you disappear up the stairs, an amused smirk spreading across his lips. He was no fool, he knew that you were apprehensive of him, most likely due to what your big brother and Levi had told you about him. And you would be right to be weary around the older man. When you returned down the stairs, your mother had already returned, she was showing Kenny a small container of screws. The screws were once in Erwin's knee, from when he had injured himself playing lacrosse back in middle school, that was a good story. You didn't want to interrupt them so you didn't say goodbye as you passed. Jean was just pulling up your driveway as you walked out the front door, loud music blaring out of his speakers. You jogged up to the passenger side and hopped in, he had turned down the music and twisted in his seat to face you. You tossed your bag into the back seat and turned to face him. Jean reached across the center counsel and cupped your cheek a fond smile on his lips.

"Hey." you giggled, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you noticed that he was staring at your lips.

"Hi." he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss and he rubbed his thumb over your jawline. You brought your own hand up to run over the back of his neck, twisting in the seat to get a better angle in the kiss as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. Jean brushed his tongue along yours, you groaned into his mouth, another dopey smile passing over your features. Suddenly there was a loud thump on your window and you jumped away from Jean with a loud smack as you broke the kiss. You weren't surprised to see Hange with her face pressed against the window and her hands splayed out over the cool glass. The window was now fogged as she breathed heavily onto the glass and you slumped back into your seat, covering your face with a hand. Jean turned to face forward and placed both hands on his wheel in an attempt at innocence. Erwin hovered behind Hange, a frown on his face as he tugged on her shoulder to rip her away from the car. He brought two fingers to his eyes and then pointed them at you in an 'I'm watching you' gesture as he tugged Hange towards his mini van.

"Where are they going?" Jean asked as they walked off.

"Antonio's I think." you answered as you pulled your seat belt on.

"They're really dressed up." Jean noted as he watched Erwin adjust his tie as he held the car door open for Hange. Erwin wore a classy black suit with a black tie, Hange wore a deep purple silk dress that clung to her curves and ended around her mid thigh. You nodded as you watched Erwin shut the door and walk around the car to the drivers side.

"Sure are." you responded as you turned to smile at him. Jean hummed as he shifted the gear to drive and turned around after Erwin pulled out. Jean held his hand out for you which you gladly accepted. Luckily the ride wasn't too long, the town was dark except for the bright light emitting from the Cover Cove. The modest store was a secondhand book shop that doubled as a cafe. The small establishment happened to have a stage in the corner, which they used on the weekends, Fridays was slam poetry night, Saturdays was rock, and Sundays were usually jazz. Jean parked on the street and the two of you quickly gathered your things and hustled into the shop. You had to admit that you didn't come here often, so you were surprised to find out that the shop had managed to purchase the building next to them and knock out the wall to obtain more space. The book shelves that had previously occupied the majority of the space, were now all pushed to one side of the shop to your left. This opened the front of the shop up for seating, an assortment of antique tables and mismatch chairs gave the room a certain flair. The back of the shop was where you ordered drinks or food, a lone barista was manning the counter. You smiled when you recognized Marco, Jean squeezed your bicep as you weaved through the tables to reach the back to order.

"Hey guys how's it going?" Marco chirped as he pumped a syrup into someone's drink.

"Oh not too bad." Jean shrugged as he leaned against the counter, you copied him as you watched Marco finish the order he was working on.

"I didn't know you worked here." you stated with a smile as you watched Marco place the drink on the counter for the customer to retrieve.

"Yeah, it's nothing special I just work weekends." Marco gushed, a blush spreading up his neck and onto his freckled cheeks. Jean scoffed and shook his head at Marco's words.

"Oh come on nobody is crazy enough to only work weekends at a freakin book store." Jean smirked at Marco who rolled his eyes and turned to make another drink.

"At least I'll have some extra cash to spend over the summer." Marco jabbed, a playful smile on his face.

"He's right about that." you agreed with Marco and covered your mouth to hide the smile that was spreading over your face.

"Can't argue with that." Jean smiled at you and gently grabbed your wrist to pull your hand off your face. You looked down sheepishly as Jean rubbed his thumb over your pulse point on your wrist.

"Oh get a room you two." Marco scolded and made shooing motions towards you.

"Can it freckles." Jean chuckled, slipping his hand into your own. The two of you wandered to one the back tables, you draped your coat over the back of the seat and dropped your bag onto the ground. The sound of soft jazz music drifted through the air as the band of older gentlemen played on, the shop was mostly empty except for a few older people who had come to support the small band. Jean watched you pull out your laptop and begin to scroll through emails, he pretended to read his book for English. His eyes were trained on you as you chewed on your lip as you opened an assignment, he noticed how nice your hands looked as you typed, and how your jaw clenched and unclenched as you worked. You paused, lifting your gaze from your laptop and pursing your lips when you caught Jean staring.

"Getting anything done over there?" you mused as he looked down at his book, he shook his head and chuckled.

"No I can't say that I am." he smiled sheepishly as he drummed his fingers on the book.

"Shame." you shrugged and turned your attention back to your work with a smug smile, Jean gasped in mock hurt.

"You could at least give me a hand." Jean huffed as he waved his book in the air. You tilted your head in an attempt to read the cover. Their Eyes Were Watching God a great read, one of your favorites.

"Hm I dunno, if I do it's going to cost ya." you teased as you turned to work on your own homework once more.

"I'll do anything." Jean groaned, he stretched his leg out to brush against your own underneath the table. You kicked his leg in response as you continued to type, Jean sighed and slumped back in his seat. The two of you lingered in the shop until Marco began wiping down tables, sometime around nine o'clock in the evening. You left the shop, promising to come by more as you ducked out into the dark street. Jean and you playfully bumped your shoulders as you walked down the quiet street towards his car, snow crunching underfoot. He opened the door for you and you thanked him. He drove you back to your house, which was already dark, you assumed that your brother was still out with Hange and your mom was probably in bed. Jean parked his car and sighed as he turned to face you.

"Want to come in?" you asked, more out of courtesy than anything. Jean shook his head and tapped his hand against the steering wheel.

"I would but my mom is expecting me.." he blushed as he confessed, you smiled appreciating his honesty. You knew that he was usually embarrassed about his relationship with his mom.

"No that's totally fine, maybe some other time." you smiled as you leaned over to give him a peck on the lips. He smiled and slid his hand up the column of your throat as he kissed you deeper. You pulled back before it could get too spicy, a playful glint in your eye as Jean pouted.

"Another time." Jean agreed, shooting you a dazzling grin. You reached into the back seat for your bag before you opened the door and walked briskly to the house. Once you had entered safely Jean began to pull out, he honked his horn as he disappeared down the drive. You smiled after him and kicked off your shoes. You tiptoed through the house, the dated wood floors creaking under your weight as you crept up the stairs, pausing halfway up. You looked down at the dark living room, the moonlight seeping through the large windows and casting the room in a pale glow. As your eyes scanned over the space you remembered all of the memories that you had in this house, the people that you shared those memories with. But at the end of the day that was all they would be, memories. People change, they grow, that's what life is all about. Every person you meet will eventually slip away and before you know it they are a stranger.

Your stomach flipped when you imagined all the ways that Paris could change Levi. You had seen it before, one of your best friends spent two full months in Switzerland and Italy with her extended family. The girl that you knew, the girl pre Europe, had never tainted her body with alcohol or any other substance. Not that doing so was bad, it just wasn't the kind of person she was, never one to give into such temptations. When she returned at first glance you wouldn't notice the difference. She told stories of the people she had met and the fun day trips she had taken. While over seas she had pierced her bellybutton, it looked good. She had also gone to some parties with her cousins.

When she mentioned the parties it almost seemed as if she had slipped up, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Your friends begged for details, only being freshmen in high school you were all fresh to the party scene. She always came up with a way of changing the subject. You noticed that after the parties were mentioned she would slip into the background of your conversations, folding inward on herself. You hated it, she never did that before. You never found out why she avoided the topic, because only a few months after she returned you and the rest of your friends fully immersed yourselves in the party scene, and she did not follow.

You lost track of her after that year, she went off the grid and moved away, your friends joked that she went back to Italy. You clenched your fist around the banister, bringing you back to the present. That wouldn't happen to Levi, you wouldn't let it. Besides, you were probably just being overdramatic, it was only a month. You let out a shaky breath and continued your climb up the stairs, you felt like a ghost as you wandered down the hall to your door. Once you had reached your room, you slowly closed the door and dropped your bag. You curled your fingers around the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head. Next you unbuttoned your jeans and shimmied out of them, you fell onto your bed and moaned into your pillow. You glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand and frowned, it was nearing ten and there was still no sign of Erwin or Hange. Just as soon as the thought had crossed your mind you head the front door open followed by the sound of the couple kicking their shoes off and hanging up their coats. The floorboards creaked as they climbed the stairs, you waited for the sound of Erwin's squeaky door opening, but it didn't come.

"Have you heard from Levi yet?" Hange's voice was soft, almost concerned.

"Yeah actually, just as we were paying he texted me." Erwin's voice sounded heavy with exhaustion.

"That's good." Hange mumbled, you sat up in an attempt to hear more.

"Yeah, I hope that he is able to make a decision after this month." Erwin sighed, the floorboards creaked followed by a dull thump. You knew that Erwin was leaning against the wall, and Hange was probably shifting her weight like she does when she's nervous.

"Me too, I think that this trip will be really good for him." Hange affirmed, the rickety floors creaking loudly as she began to pace. You drug yourself to the edge of the bed, ready to get up and poke your head out the door to ask them what they were talking about. Just as your feet touched the cold ground Hange's pacing stopped.

"Look at me Hange. He will be fine." your brother's voice was firm.

"I know, I just..." Hange sniffled and your own eyes filled with tears.

"I just want to be there for him." she choked out, a tear rolled down your cheek, Hange never cried, especially not over Levi.

"So do I but this is the best way that we can be there for him at this time."Erwin reasoned, Hange sniffled and hiccuped a few times before you heard their footsteps retreat towards Erwin's room and you heard the sound of his door swinging open and then closed. Okay, maybe you weren't being dramatic. You stood up and staggered to your bag where your phone was, you pulled it out and unlocked it with shaky fingers. You tapped on your messages, ignoring Jean's good night text and Armin's asking for your weekly schedule for studying. Mikasa had sent you a recipe, Sasha and Connie had been sending you stupid tik toks all weekend. You typed in Levi's name, his contact popping up immediately. You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the picture of his grumpy face before you opened the message and stared at the blinking cursor. Great now what were you supposed to say.

I miss you

Don't change

How was the flight?

Forget me already?

Has it been a month yet?

You scrunched your nose in disgust as you ran through your options. All of them made you sound like a crazy bitch. You pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at the blank conversation. You usually deleted your messages, not that you had accumulated many messages with Levi anyway. How could you show Levi that you were thinking about him without it sounding too deep? A crude joke? Yes that would do, something to do with shit.

"Hope all this traveling doesn't throw off your bowel movements."

You cringed but still pressed send before you could overthink the message. You shut your phone off and slammed it onto the nightstand, your cheeks flaring with hot embarrassment. You made yourself busy by changing into an old hoodie and sliding underneath the covers. You heard your phone ding but made no move to see who texted you. Tomorrow was Monday and you needed to wake up early, he would have to wait until tomorrow, it was only fair. After all, he was making you wait a whole month. He could wait one night. With that you rolled over and snuggled into your covers, your eyes heavy with sleep which you welcomed gladly.

[pastelwitchling]

brittz-2123 asked:

I have a half assed attempt at a prompt? Because I love everything you wrote so I just have a vague idea. Anything where Kyle and Michael are at odds about Alex. Alex is in the hospital and best friend vs "boyfriend/not quite boyfriend" over who should take care of him during recovery. Michael not liking how touchy Kyle and Alex are. But again I don't have good ideas and literally EVERYTHING you write is amazing... you ALMOST make me like Forrest, almost.

***

Michael’s knuckles as he gripped the hospital bed railing were white. He’s fine, he reminded himself. He’s okay. He’s alive. He’s fine.

Alex brought his arm down from where he’d had it draped across his eyes and raised a brow at him. “Guerin.”

“Yeah,” Michael straightened. “What do you need? Water? A snack? I could go get you some food from the cafeteria.”

Alex stared. “I need you –”

“I need you, too –”

“—to unclench,” he finished.

Michael swallowed, and he nodded, trying very hard not to let his eyes wander to Alex’s leg. Two whole weeks on his prosthetic had done a number on Michael’s airman, leaving his skin red and purple with an infection and swelling like a balloon. Nobody had noticed until Kyle, for the first time in those weeks, made it to the bunker. His eyes had lingered on Alex, and he’d caught his arm just as he’d stumbled.

“Damn it, Manes,” he’d sighed, encouraging Alex to lean against him. “What’d you do to yourself?”

Alex had insisted he didn’t need a hospital, and proceeded to limp back to his seat before Michael caught him by the waist and demanded he get in his truck.

Now he was standing at Alex’s bedside where Alex lied, still in his jeans and jacket, which must’ve been making him even more uncomfortable, though he’d refused to change. Alex tried to look calm, but Michael saw the way he winced every so often, as if just breathing was worsening the pain in his leg.

He hadn’t realized his eyes had wandered down again until Alex cupped his jaw and made him meet his eyes.

“Unclench, Guerin,” he said, amused. Michael covered Alex’s hand with his own and turned his face into Alex’s palm, kissing him. Alex looked startled, but Michael hung on. He opened his mouth to say something, though he didn’t know where to start, but then –

“Two weeks!” Kyle walked into the room and tossed the clipboard down on the end of Alex’s bed. “You’ve been without your prosthetic for how many hours in that time?”

Alex’s head fell back as he seemed to try to remember, and Kyle clenched his jaw. “This is not a thinking question, Alex. I’ll give you the answer right now; none. Never. I’m willing to bet my diploma you never took it off once.”

“I do have to shower without it, you know,” Alex said, and Kyle glared.

“Glad you think this is so funny because you’ll have a lot of time to come up with jokes when you’re bedridden for the next month.”

Alex nodded, unsurprised, but Michael’s eyes widened. “Month?! It’s that bad?”

“Yes,” Kyle said at the same time that Alex assured him, “No.”

“Look,” Alex defended, “you have any idea how many times my superiors have told me that I’d be out of action for half a year? Sometimes longer? Two weeks later, I’m fine. They’re always saying crap like that so you’re careful, but I don’t need to be careful.”

“Well,” Kyle said coolly, “luckily for you, what you think you need doesn’t matter because I’m going to be looking after you for the next couple of weeks.”

Michael frowned. “What?”

“And don’t think I haven’t already devised a whole check-up schedule,” he went on, heedless of Michael’s anger.

“I’m going to take care of Alex,” he blurted, and both Kyle and Alex looked to him with raised brows, stunned. His cheeks burned, but he forged on, “I know him better than anybody, and I have the powers to keep him still for a month. What’re you going to do, pump him with anesthetics?”

“God help me,” Kyle said, “if that’s what it takes.”

“You two do realize you’re talking about keeping me physically contained, right?” Alex said mildly. “That won’t go well for either of you.”

Kyle met Michael’s eyes, and they knew they could agree on one thing; forcing Alex down would be impossible. But that didn’t change the fact that Michael knew him best, that he knew how to keep Alex happy and comfortable, that he would do anything Alex needed him to do.

“How’re you going to take care of him?” Kyle demanded. “Do you know how to manage an infection? What medication he needs, when he needs them? What to do if the swelling suddenly gets worse which could definitely happen because he’s Alex and we all know he won’t rest like he should?”

Alex held up his hands. “I’m right here.”

“What about you?” Michael snapped back, keeping pressed to the bed’s railing. He felt like if he had to be any further away from Alex, he might get sick. “When will you have the time to look after him? You’re a surgeon, remember? You guys aren’t exactly known for your extensive vacation days!”

“Guys –”

“No offense, Guerin,” Kyle huffed, “but you guys have been dating a month, he’s been sick for two of them, and you didn’t notice. He needs someone who really knows him.”

Michael smirked bitterly, trying not to show how hurt he was by that little truth. “I’m not leaving his side, so if you wanna get rid of me you’re gonna have to stab me with pollen.”

“Guys –”

Kyle scoffed. “I’ve carried an extra one with me for just this moment, please – I am actually begging you – give me a reason –”

“GUYS!” Alex snapped, and he winced and doubled over, clutching his leg. His outburst had apparently shaken him a bit too roughly and he’d pulled something because his fingers were digging into his knee and his breathing was ragged.

Michael’s anger faded at once, as did Kyle’s, and he put his hand on Alex’s shoulders. “I’m – I’m sorry, baby –”

“It’s okay, Alex,” Kyle helped him lie back again. “We shouldn’t have gone off like that, just relax, okay?”

“I don’t need . . . anyone to look after me . . .” His words were labored, his breathing heavy. “I am . . . perfectly capable . . . of taking care . . . of myself . . .”

Kyle shook his head. “Alex, you –”

“I know,” he huffed. “I got myself into this in the first place, but . . . I don’t want to do any more damage. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I can work from home, but I’ll rest when you tell me to, and take all the medication the nurse gives me like a good little patient, okay?”

Kyle pursed his lips. “You better mean that, Alex, or I swear I will pin you down and force those pills down your stomach.”

Alex gave him a small, indulgent smile. “Sure.” He looked to Michael. “And I’ll call you every night, no matter how tired I get, and let you know how I’m doing.”

Michael shook his head. “No, you won’t call.”

“No, I will, I promise –”

“I’ll see you,” he said, and both Kyle and Alex blinked. Michael’s cheeks burned but he finished, “Every night. I’ll let myself in, I’ll see you, make sure you’re okay.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to sleep until I do, Private.”

Alex nodded slowly, starting to smile. “So you’ll check in on me, then just leave?”

Michael held his gaze. They both knew Michael wouldn’t be going anywhere, but neither felt the need to say it when their eyes made all the promises of dark nights and gentle hands and rustled sheets.

Kyle, however, seemed to hear it all anyway, and he rolled his eyes. He grabbed his clipboard and made his way to the door. “I still say you can do better.”

***

I’ll get there with Forrest... you just wait...

But yay! I did it, five whole prompts in one day! And, luckily, I’m very, very happy with all of them ❤ I will be posting them to ao3 over the next few days. Thank you so much to everyone who submitted prompts, I’m so sorry if I didn’t get to yours, but there are plenty more malex works coming up! I still have the third chapter of Remembrance, another project, and another few secret stuff I’ve been working on that I can’t talk about (yet). Thank you for your continued support, it means so much, and I hope you enjoyed reading these little fics today ❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍

[btsmosphere]

Blessing and a Curse | PJM

~summary: You are the unlukiest person you know. Park Jimin seems to be the exception to the rule. But when strange dreams start haunting you, Jimin begins to piece together the events that have followed you your whole life...

~word count: 12.7k (anyone know if this is too long for a oneshot haha)

~college!au, magic!au, fluff, angst

~Warnings: nightmares, house fire, knife injury and blood, mentioned homophobia/biphobia, swearing

~a/n: happy (almost) halloween! welcome to my new oneshot, I really hope you enjoy it! -if you’re worried about the warnings, all except the nightmares happen near the end and are probably skippable, but if you might be triggered then please be on the safe side and save this for later 💜this story isn’t primarily about those things, it’s about jimin and yn being cute hehe

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

She is: you can see it in the way her mouth moves, but she is articulating without sound.

Your ears are plugged with water, you can hear it in the way it rumbles. Maybe that same water is what is drowning out everything else, blurring the edges of this scene. Yes, the room is dark, but surely something is in the shadows.

Why would she be here alone?

There is a fire: of that you are sure. Nothing else would light the lady’s face in a scarlet glow, deepening her wrinkles until they seem carved of wood. Only her continued movement shatters this illusion.

In the glimmering light, her eyebrows sink in the middle, fixing you with a stare.

She is approaching.

Her eyes are all you can see, a flame visible within them and they rush to you. The heat of fire is no longer merely imagined. No, you feel it crawling over you as you watch her mouth move without sound.

It can’t be water around you, because you can’t move. Fire can’t survive in water. But here it is, pinning you down, smothering you.

Maybe you are dying.

She is talking.

The woman with age-worn skin is looking at you. Only one face is visible in the darkness of the room.

The room was still dark. Something was different, you thought vaguely as you blinked.

And then suddenly, everything was different.

No face is visible.

You can hear: you cough, and the sound of it reaching your ears startles you. No water, then.

More evidence of this is the fact you can see, even in the dark, the glow that fights its way around your curtain from the street lamp outside illuminating your bedroom. You can move.

You certainly aren’t dying.

That’s a relief.

Morning comes, the streetlamp has turned off and you pay no mind to the dream hovering just out of your memory’s reach. Plenty like that have come before, and plenty will follow.

Anyway, it’s just a dream.

Now, you are more preoccupied with checking and double checking your bag. Your laptop, notebooks and folders are in there. First aid kit, check. Pencil case, check. Five memory sticks, check.

On your way to campus, you dodged a ladder leaning against a house and walked right into the path of a van splashing muddy water up your jeans. Sighing, you pulled out some tissues to dry it off as best you could, backing into a wall to get out of the splash zone again.

Of course, you backed into a pile of dog poo.

Scowling, you scraped the bottom of your shoe furiously against the pavement and hurried on.

Today was one of the rare occasions when Yoongi had arrived before you. On any normal Monday morning, he would slink in after about half an hour into class, but there he sat in the entrance hall, looking blearily round at you and licking his lips as he set his coffee down.

However, your attention was drawn away by the boy sitting with him.

Park Jimin.

As you slid into the third seat at the table, you widened your eyes at Yoongi, hoping to convey your panic.

“Hey, I was just going to grab a coffee, would you like one?” Jimin smiled at you, standing.

You swallowed, quickly turning back to him.

“Oh-um, er, no, I- it’s okay. Thank you.”

“Okay,” he smiled sweetly again and walked across to the little bar across the space.

“God, just let him buy you a coffee,” Yoongi groaned, “or do you really expect anything to happen if you never say yes?”

“They always give me shit coffee here,” you sighed, glancing back at Jimin waiting in the queue.

“You say that about everywhere,” Yoongi said. He let his head fall into his hand so it covered half his face.

“That’s because it’s true!” you protested, but he had heard it before. “What are you doing here anyway? You look half asleep.”

“Jimin dragged me,” he mumbled into his palm.

“Woe is you,” you laughed, slumping back on your seat and swinging your feet. You had given up tipping your chair long ago.

When Jimin came back, it was only to scoop up his bag before heading off to his class. That was the most you ever seemed to talk to him, as much as you would like to get to know him more. Being flatmates with your closest friend in your department saw him at plenty of the same parties, but you were too scared to approach him.

Something would go wrong.

With you, it always did. Yoongi said you were just a pessimist, which held a lot of weight coming from him.

Class went smoothly. A pen had leaked in your pencil case, and promptly ran out of ink when you tried to use it, but other than that, you came out unscathed.

It wasn’t until that afternoon that the wind picked up.

After a long day of classes, you parted ways with Yoongi to go to the library, while he left for basketball practise. Tugging your scarf tighter around you, you fought against the weather on the short walk between buildings.

On reaching your refuge, you tiptoed through the rows of books to the study area. Luckily, one last spot was left by the window, where you could see the grey clouds rolling by, the odd leaf whisking past and the branches tugged by the wind.

Smile spreading over your face, you marched towards it, setting your things down. But the moment you sat, the chair’s back leg buckled, a snap resounding through the silent space and drawing glares from the other students.

Mentally cursing, you pulled yourself up and settled for the most hidden table you could find. Sure, you could handle the dust and the flickering light in this corner.

To be fair, you did get a good amount of studying done, satisfied by the time you pulled on your scarf again and set off home.

The few trees dotted around campus creaked in the gale when you passed them. Head down against the wind, you pressed on, not looking up until you heard a familiar voice. What they were saying wasn’t quite audible, but you would recognise it anywhere. Maybe your little crush was getting a little out of hand.

Looking around, you saw Jimin with a couple of friends coming out of the gym across the courtyard.

Okay, he hadn’t seen you yet. Maybe he wasn’t coming this way?

No such luck.

Their voices drew closer, so you picked up the pace, digging your face deeper into the wool around your neck. Park Jimin was behind you, no big deal. Just don’t embarrass yourself.

But the moment you took a deep breath, a scraping sound came from above you. Frowning, you looked up distractedly. There it came again, a gravelly noise somewhere overhead. This time, though, it didn’t stop, only growing louder, and there-!

A shape, sliding off the roof, right over your head. In the blink of an eye, you scrambled to move, but your feet were caught and you tripped, inelegantly face-planting the ground as a smashing sound deafened you.

A stinging pain flared in your calf.

“Oh my god! Y/N?”

From your front-seat view of the floor, you groaned, taking a moment to close your eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Inhaling, you finally pushed yourself up to sit just as Jimin rushed up to you, his two friends close behind. Forcing a grimace, you tried to ignore your burning face as he knelt down, discarding his bag.

There, right beside your leg, lay a cracked roof tile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bending your leg to get a closer look. The source of the pain showed itself; your jeans were torn, a deep graze on your skin underneath where the tile must have caught you.

Beside you, Jimin’s hands hovered, twitching as he debated what to do. He watched as you twisted your ankle experimentally and winced.

“You should go to the doctor,” he told you. He was right, too. At least there was one on campus that you could hopefully reach on an injured leg-

“I’ll take you, come on,” he pushed his bag into his friend’s arms and threw yours over his own shoulder. Before you could utter a word, his shoulder was under your arm, helping you stand.

“Thank you,” you spluttered, “I-I think it should be fine though-“

Right on cue, you stood on you bad foot, which instantly gave way as you choked back a cry.

“It’s just twisted!” you exclaimed, though your full weight was pretty much weighing down on Jimin.

“Best to get it checked,” one of his friends chimed in, clapping you on the shoulder as he set off walking in the direction of the health centre.

Sighing, you gave in and allowed Jimin to help as you hobbled next to him.

“That’s Hoseok,” he said, smiling again, “and that’s Tae.”

Holding up a hand, Tae bobbed his head at you with a grin.

“Hi,” you panted.

It was likely that your attempt to return a smile failed, with the bugging pain in your ankle. Either way, Tae had turned back around now, walking beside Hoseok just ahead of you two. Before long, you had resorted to hopping. It wasn’t efficient.

“Would it be better…” Jimin said, “I mean, I could- I think I should carry you.”

Managing a weak smile, you slowed beside him. Maybe you didn’t have to go far, but it felt like a marathon at the moment.

Eyes creasing in his own smile, Jimin gently let go of your arm and stepped in front of you, crouching to let you put your arms around his neck. Surely he would be able to feel your heart hammering at your ribs, pressed up against his back like this?

If he did, he didn’t let on.

Sliding his arms behind your knees, he scooped you up and you were off at a much more reasonable speed this time.

“Tae!” he yelled.

When the black-haired boy turned around, Jimin tossed him your bag.

By some miracle, you heart had chilled out by the time you entered the doctor’s reception. Maybe a short trip on someone’s back had healing effects in itself.

You were handed an ice pack and some paperwork and told to wait. Taehyung and Hoseok said they would leave you to it, but Jimin assured you he could stay. And who were you to turn him down? This wasn’t coffee.

The silence was companiable as you sat side by side, Jimin sitting forward, elbows on his thighs while you put your feet up on a chair he had dragged over. He didn’t speak until you had nearly finished writing.

“Maybe you could sue the college,” he joked, gently nudging you with his elbow.

Laughing, you signed off the last box quickly before setting the form down and giving him your full attention.

“Thanks for staying, you didn’t have to,” you squeezed out a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, “I’m just glad you’re not more hurt. It was crazy, what happened.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time that’s happened to me,” you admitted. A small laugh brushed by your lips.

At your words, Jimin turned to you fully, bringing his chin off his hands. For a moment he only stared with his eyebrows raised, smile faltering, unsure if you were kidding.

“You’re being serious?”

You grimaced.

“A roof tile fell on you? More than once?”

“What are the chances, right?” you sighed, “But yeah. I’m definitely the most accident-prone person I know.”

“At least you managed to get out of the way… I thought it was going to hit your head or something,” Jimin looked genuinely terrified. You were sure your heart melted as he said this with his big eyes and such sincerity.

“If by getting out of the way you mean falling on my face,” you smiled softly.

Thankfully, he saw the funny side and laughed along with you, shaking his head and sitting back. You were glad the worry had left his face.

Only one other person sat in the waiting room, a mother holding a small baby, who now turned around to glare at the pair of you, although were only laughing quietly. Either way, you both closed your mouths, noticing her child was asleep.

A screaming baby was not something you wanted to add to this situation.

“So… what do you study?” you muttered after the woman turned back around in her chair.

“Protective magic,” Jimin dazzled you again with his smile, “it’s my second year now.”

“Same,” you replied, “well, as in, I’m in second year too, but I’m not gifted. I’m doing literature.”

“With Yoongi, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course you knew that,” you laughed, but you were cringing inside. Time to change topic. “But, umm, what’s your favourite part of your course?”

Magic was definitely fascinating to you, even though you weren’t gifted with powers and therefore were unable to study it. Less than half the population had magic, so it was just your luck to be in the boring majority.

“I’m enjoying studying curses,” Jimin was saying, “last year was mainly the basics, warding and stuff like that, so it’s nice to do something more interesting.”

“It sounds really cool,” you agreed, “I’m so jealous, I didn’t get any of my first-choice modules.”

Just as Jimin opened his mouth to respond, a doctor called your name.

“Ah,” Jimin stood, raising his hand to alert the doctor you were there as you struggled to your feet. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“If that’s okay?”

Gladly accepting his arm for the second time that day, you let Jimin help you over to the doctor and followed her down the hallway to her office. As she checked you over, Jimin sat patiently behind you. Your frequent glances at him were definitely less surreptitious than you intended, but he didn’t seem to mind, smiling reassuringly when you caught his eye.

In the end, she bandaged up the graze and ordered you to avoid using your ankle as much as you could for a couple of days. You had just avoided spraining it, so it would be fine.

“How are you getting home?” she asked you, not looking at you as she typed up her notes.

“Oh, uh-“ you stuttered. You hadn’t thought of that. Walking all the way home would be too far when you could barely make the walk from the waiting room.

“-I’m driving her,” Jimin spoke.

Snapping your mouth shut, you stared round at him.

“Excellent,” the doctor smiled before you could say anything. She spun back to you in her chair, “that should be all. Remember to rest it, I’m sure your friend will help you out.”

Quietly smiling and thanking her, you hobbled out beside Jimin. Outside the door, he lifted you onto his back again for the short walk to the parking lot.

By car, your house was barely ten minutes away, but you chatted some more to Jimin. As he reached your street and you pointed out where he could stop, you were startled by how fast it seemed. You found yourself not wanting him to leave.

Who knew that completely embarrassing yourself in front of your crush could end up to be a good thing?

To your delight, he insisted on piggy-backing you up the stairs as well, somehow not even breaking a sweat, and waited with you at the door as you slid the key in.

“KOOK!” you yelled as you pushed the door open, but to your surprise, he had already left his room and was walking down the hall towards you.

On seeing Jimin next to you, arm around your waist, he stopped abruptly and his eyes widened. But then his eyes travelled down to your leg, bandage poking from the bottom of your jeans, and he relaxed.

“This is Jimin,” you offered, hopping over the threshold as Kook approached again, quick to slide his arm around your other side.

“Hi,” he nodded at Jimin, “thanks.”

Jimin, who let you go as it became clear Kook could take it from here, handed over your bag as well.

“Good to meet you,” he beamed, “see you, Y/N.”

From your position propped up against your roommate, you waved at him. Too soon he was gone, door falling shut behind him.

“is that the Jimin?” Jungkook stage-whispered.

“Yes…” you sighed, hiding your face in his shoulder and ignoring his excited eyes.

“Come on,” you felt the rumble of his laughter through you as he pushed you off him and pulled you down the corridor, “Jin-hyung! Y/N hurt herself again!”

“Kook…” you grumbled in vain.

The moment he dropped you ungracefully onto the sofa, Jin hurried in, already clutching a first aid bag. Seeing his concerned face, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s okay, I already went to the doctor.”

“Aish,” he moaned, “how do you manage to get hurt so much?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you whined, “really.”

You met his eyes as he ditched the medical kit by the sofa. Sighing, he gave you a smile which you returned. You knew he worried too much.

“She was probably distracted,” Jungkook piped up from behind the kitchen counter which divided your space. The warning look you shot him wasn’t enough to quiet him though, you could see the mischievous grin on his face.

“Jeon Jungkook-” you hissed.

“-making doe-eyes at Jim- ow!”

“Y/N!” Jin cried, snatching you and Jungkook’s attention, “give me that.”

Marching across the space, he scooped up the book you had launched at the younger boy and tucked it under his arm. Then a smile slid onto his face, letting the two of you relax. He wasn’t really mad.

“So Jimin?” he grinned.

Shoving a cushion over your face, you groaned, Jin’s laughter loud in your ears.

Yoongi offered to drive you into college before you had even told him you were injured. Jimin must have told him what happened when he got home.

What you didn’t expect was to see your saviour again this early in the morning. You looked a mess in all honesty, hair messy and most lazy clothes shoved on to accommodate your bandaged leg. Sleep hadn’t been on your side last night, and the dream had come again, but until now you didn’t care.

Now, as Jimin gave up shotgun for you with a radiant smile, you regretted your lie in.

“Are you definitely okay to walk?” he eyed you worriedly as you limped over to them.

After the inevitable teasing last night, Jin and Jungkook had cooked for you and let you pick a film so you could keep you leg up with ice. As a result it did feel much better, and you told him as much.

“I’m glad,” Jimin smiled.

You were too busy smiling back to catch Yoongi rolling his eyes.

The room was dark… the old woman was looking at you…

As the fire danced and flickered below her, she spoke to you, but you were still deaf to her words.

Come to think of it, she looked like she was shouting.

Had you upset her?

A hand entered your vision, the woman’s hand, gnarled with age and dappled with firelight.

She was reaching out…

No.

She was pointing at you.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Your whole body jolted as a foot hit your leg. It took a moment for the pain to even register as you blinked, head falling off the hand it rested on.

As you looked up, opening your mouth to complain, your eyes met with Yoongi’s. He had a strange expression on his face.

Frowning, you looked around. The lecture was still going on.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “didn’t sleep well.”

Turning away from Yoongi, you found a group of boys behind you quickly tearing their eyes away. Their snickering whispers followed you even when you turned your back on them. But though you hunched over your work, fully intent on achieving tunnel-vision to your notebook, Yoongi didn’t share your intention.

“Hey,” he murmured, digging his knee into your leg until you acknowledged him. You were greeted with the same piercing stare from before. “You okay?”

Shoulders slumping, you sighed.

“Yeah…”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks Yoongi,” you rolled your eyes at his bluntness, “just tired-“

“You were dreaming,” he informed you.

You blinked.

“Sorry?”

“You were kind of… twitching,” he grimaced, “that’s why they were laughing at you. Was it a nightmare?”

Blankly staring back at him, you tried to recall your dream. Once you were awake, it always left your mind like sand through a sieve, but when you thought about it…

“It’s just a dream I keep having,” you shook your head, “it’s why I couldn’t get much sleep last night.”

His eyebrows creased, but the sudden commotion that rumbled into life around you told you class was over. And you had missed most of it. Just your luck.

Sluggishly, you packed your things away. Just as you slung your bag over one shoulder, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Slipping it out as you pushed your chair in with your thigh, you saw two messages from Yoongi.

Pictures of his lecture notes.

Fondly smiling, you looked to your friend as he shut his book and slid his own things into his bag.

As usual, Yoongi walked with you after classes were done. Except today, when you parted ways, he made you promise to meet him in time to drive home. Usually you would spend longer in the library, but you could easily check out something to work on at home.

Yoongi’s earlier lecture notes mentioned some extra reading, so you decided to go and find the books to make up for being unconscious during the class itself.

Heading towards the classics section once you were inside, you heard Jimin before you saw him.

A loud thump made you wince, evidently the sound of a fallen book. Unable to help your curiosity, you leaned around the corner to the aisle it came from.

There, Jimin’s blond hair was just visible over a mound of books balanced in his arms, some tucked under his elbows, and a couple more trapped between his hip and the bookshelves.

“Jimin?”

You were already striding towards him, hurriedly grabbing for the books in the most precarious position.

“Thank you,” a muffled voice reached your ears as Jimin was finally able to step away from the shelf without fear of dropping any more.

“Um… what are you doing?” you asked incredulously as you hastily shoved the books onto a shelf, soon reaching out to start dismantling the pile in his arms.

“I had spare credits,” he spoke as you removed the books that blocked out his face, “so I’ve ended up taking Mythology of Magic. I thought I should do some reading…”

Laughing, you turned over the book in your hand. Woozle the Warlock and other stories.

“And you didn’t want to be any more selective?”

As you tugged the books from under his arm, Jimin looked down at his shuffling feet.

“I’ve never had to read fiction for my course, so I don’t really know where to start.”

“Well, I took that module last year,” you smiled, “trust me, there are a few books Professor Bang really relies on, but other than that there aren’t too many you should know.”

“Really?”

Jimin’s eyes were so hopeful. His smile had returned, and you were happy you could give him a positive answer.

“Would you like me to help you?” you ventured.

His enthusiastic nod made your heart leap.

“Right, well-“ you turned to the shelves to scan for the books you needed, absently pushing a couple more books onto a random shelf. Jimin followed suit, now having his hands free enough to make use of them.

“Jimin?”

The book you had just laid eyes on was lost as you jumped around, finding one of the librarians at the end of the shelves.

“Joon! Y/N’s gonna help me with Mythology!” Jimin greeted the man enthusiastically, but his eagerness was not returned.

“What’s going on?” the man called Joon asked.

Guiltily glancing at the shelves Jimin had pillaged, it became clear they were nowhere near orderly anymore.

“Jimin, this is going to take me ages, you know I have a date tonight!” Joon was busy complaining.

“Sorry Joon,” Jimin sighed, “do you want me to sort it?”

“Please. I’ll come and check you’re doing it right in a while,” Joon agreed, “Y/N will just have to help you later.”

“Sorry,” you piped up, looking at Jimin, “Yoongi’s giving me a lift home.”

“Then you can come to ours!” Joon startled you by clapping his hands together. He looked thrilled, but you were still confused.

“Ah, sorry Y/N,” Jimin said, “this is Namjoon. He lives with me and Yoongi.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you,” you said.

“You too,” Namjoon smiled, “I best get back to work.”

Before he left, he sent a dimpled smirk over to Jimin.

“Do you want some help?” you asked Jimin, the two of you staring at the mess of books, a couple still lying on the floor.

“No, please go and sit down,” he told you, “the doctor told you to rest.”

He was right, so you gave in.

Later on, you glanced at the clock. You didn’t want to be late for Yoongi when he was being so nice to you. Fifteen minutes were left, luckily, so you turned back to your work.

Next time you checked, fifteen minutes were left.

Wait.

That was the same as last time!

Now you thought about it, it might have said the same time when you checked it before that too.

Oh no.

Scrambling for your phone, you saw you were already more than five minutes late. As quick as humanly possible, you rammed everything into your bag and fled. You still had to check out Jimin’s books, so you dashed across to the machines to take them out.

Toe tapping on the ground, you waited behind the guy already using the last monitor, praying Yoongi wouldn’t be mad. You decided to send him a quick text.

You: On my way, sorry :)

Yoongi: Be quick

Just then, the man in front of you turned around, setting off briskly away from the station with coffee in hand. There was only one problem. You were in the way.

He crashed into you before you had even looked up, and warm liquid was already seeping through your top.

In your shock, your phone fell from your hand, straight into the puddle of coffee on the floor. Both of you just stood there for a second, mouths agape.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you garbled, at the same moment as he pushed past you, muttering something about standing in the way. Perfect.

Looking down at the bundle of books in your arms, it was clear they were ruined. Coffee was dripping off them, the edges of the pages already brown. Taking a breath, you bent down to retrieve your phone, not bothering to check it just yet. You had to get to Yoongi first.

In the end, you checked the books out anyway, knowing you might be able to tell your tragic tale to your new acquaintance Namjoon, thinking perhaps he could get you out of a fine.

Stepping outside, you were soon greeted with Jimin coming around the corner.

“Y/N! Yoongi sent me to go and fetch you- what happened?” he had stopped in his tracks. You didn’t have to be a genius to know your top was ruined, coffee clinging uncomfortably to your skin from the saturated fabric.

“Some guy spilled coffee on me,” you explained, carrying on towards the parking lot, “and my phone, and the books…”

Looking to the side to check he was following, you jumped. Jimin’s head had disappeared into his sweater as he pulled it over his head, shirt riding up as he did so. When he emerged you snapped your head away.

You tried to reject the hoodie as he held it out to you, knowing you would soak it through with coffee as well, but he insisted. It was black after all, it wouldn’t show up, and people were staring at you. Since you usually left campus later, it was busier than you were accustomed to.

Eventually taking the proffered jumper, you basked in its softness, thanking him with a smile.

Since you went home to study with Jimin, Jungkook and Jin had been insufferable, knowing about your crush. You told them they were lucky you loved them already, or you would kick them out.

Not if they kicked you out first, they said.

You laughed and told them you could just move in with Jimin. Needless to say, that made it worse.

In all fairness, you spent a lot of time with Jimin now. You regretted being too scared to ever talk to him before, since you actually got on really well. Helping him study had been fun, and you had been over more times since then, for studying but also for dinner and movie nights that Namjoon and Yoongi loved to crash.

You discovered all of them wanted to go to the Halloween festival, just like you.

October was halfway done, and that meant the excitement was well and truly underway. Every year on the weekend of Halloween, there was a festival just outside the city with music, haunted houses, campfires and ghost stories. And, of course, plenty of beer. Everyone wanted to go.

That week, you sat down with your own flatmates to put your names in for the festival. Due to its popularity among students, the festival always picked its attendees at random.

Since things were going well with Jimin, you had shed your pessimistic mindset a little. Maybe things didn’t always go wrong when you were around.

But then you didn’t get tickets.

And of course, Jungkook and Jin did.

You were more disappointed than you were when the same thing happened last year. For once, you had actually had your hopes up.

At least they were as sad about it as you. And it meant they went out on a dedicated shopping trip to get you a load of candy; it made both parties feel a bit better about you being left alone at the weekend.

When you had last spoken to Jimin about the festival, you found out he had gone last year. The next time you saw him after the bad news came at the weekend, you walked into uni to find him alone at the table you usually shared with Yoongi.

“Hey,” he smiled, “Yoongi’s just getting coffee.”

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. You were quite happy to have Jimin to yourself for the moment.

It was only when Yoongi came back with two coffees that you sensed something was up. He never bought coffee for other people. Eyebrows furrowed, you watched as he set one down in front of Jimin.

Eager to take a sip, neither boy noticed you staring at them with something akin to horror until they rose from the rims of their cups.

“What’s going on?” you demanded when you caught Jimin’s eye.

“Sympathy coffee,” Jimin chuckled, “I didn’t get Halloween tickets.”

“Oh no, that sucks,” you sighed, “I didn’t either.”

“Hey, that could be good!” Jimin placed his drink down, “we could do something on Halloween instead?”

“Okay!” you agreed, “movies or something?”

“Great, let’s do it,” Jimin grinned, “beats sitting inside getting jealous of Joon and Yoongi.”

And so it was agreed, and you found yourself walking over to Jimin’s house on Halloween. Any other Saturday night, the city’s streets would be thrumming with life, groups of students holding each other up as they stumbled out, already drunk.

Today, though, it seemed like the entire student population was on the other side of town except you.

Mind wandering to your friends, you wondered how the festival was. Next year was your final chance to go. You hoped you could. They would probably be trekking through the horror maze, before dark so Jin wouldn’t get too scared. Or maybe Jungkook had got out his guitar for the campfire circle. You wondered what kinds of sugary food they would fill themselves with.

It was a nice evening for whatever was going on, being unusually warm for this time of year. You hadn’t even needed a coat to go out.

Jin’s cooking was sorely missed especially; you were something of a disaster on your own given your clumsiness. You swore you did exactly what the recipe said, but every time without fail, something went wrong.

Reaching Jimin’s, you happily let thoughts of what you were missing slide. Your bad luck had afforded you good fortune this time around, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Inside, you emptied all the snacks you had brought out of your bag and stared at the mountain you had collectively built on the coffee table.

“I guess we had better get started,” you laughed.

“We’re never going to eat all that!” Jimin laughed, flopping down on the sofa.

Sitting as well, you picked up your first chocolate and sent him a smirk.

“Challenge accepted.”

As anyone could have predicted, you failed the challenge. Before the first film had even ended, you slumped against Jimin with a groan, stomach threatening to burst. His melodic laugh filled your ears. You only groaned more, staring at the empty wrappers surrounding you before closing your eyes.

What you didn’t expect was for Jimin to reach his arm around you.

Eyes snapping open again, you saw his hands pulling your blanket up, but his arm didn’t move away. Well, perhaps your optimistic eating habits had landed you something good, after all.

The film ended, but you didn’t move away. Nor did he push you off.

“What next?” he looked down at you.

You found yourself a lot closer to his face than you were prepared for when you looked up at him, head pulling away from its place on his shoulder.

“Horror film?” you suggested with a small smile once you had recovered.

He threw his head back and laughed, but he did pick up the remote and start scrolling through the horror films.

“This should be fun,” he smiled, shaking his head slightly.

It was.

Well, maybe not the ghosts and blood and murderers and jumpscares.

But it sure was fun when Jimin clutched you in both of his arms, or when you pressed closer to him to hide your face away in his chest. When he screamed and grabbed at you, hiding his face away in the top of your head, you swore your heart stopped for a moment.

“We are not watching a horror film next time,” Jimin decreed afterwards, “or ever again!”

“Next Halloween?” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes.

“Maybe.”

Your grin wasn’t because he agreed with you. It was because he thought you would be with each other again next Halloween.

Reluctantly, the two of you untangled yourselves from the blankets. On your way out, you told him to keep the candy, and that you could never look at another one again.

“Sure,” he smirked, “text me when you get home okay.”

“Will do, thanks.”

After a beat, you stepped back through the doorway and gave him a quick hug. Wrapping his arms around you in return, he laughed.

“Don’t have nightmares!”

“No promises!” you laughed, waving at him as you walked away.

By this time it was dark, but your route back was along main roads, so you weren’t worried. However, you had barely reached the end of Jimin’s road before you felt flecks of drizzle dotting your face.

You picked up the pace, but there was still a while to go. You were never going to outrun the rain.

It wasn’t the first time you had been caught out by a storm, but it made it no more enjoyable. Halfway home, the rain was hammering down, stinging your cheeks with the force it fell. The sky above was a solid mass of cloud, regularly disturbed by thunder.

You were most certainly alone on the streets now, everyone having retreated inside. You just had to push on a little longer, and then you could have a hot shower and warm up in your pyjamas with a hot chocolate.

Cursing yourself for not bringing a coat earlier, you hugged yourself as you marched against the rain which was now dripping down your face, hair plastered to your cheeks.

On reaching your apartment, you broke into a run. Stopping outside the door, you fished for your keys in your pocket.

Nothing.

Chest tightening, you quickly pushed your hand into your other pocket. Your phone was still there, but no keys. Quickly, you patted your jeans to no success. Your bag was just as empty. Where were your keys?

Ever since the coffee incident in the library, your phone had never been quite the same, but you nearly cried in relief when you clicked the power button and it flashed on.

Leaning your head over to shield it from the worst of the rain, although you were also dripping onto it, your cold fingers fumbled to your contacts until you reached Jimin. No one else you knew was in the city.

Pressing call, you held the device to your ear, dial tone beeping over the drumming of the rain.

The tone cut off, and you waited to hear Jimin’s voice.

But it didn’t come.

“Hello?” you spoke.

No reply.

On pulling the phone from your ear, you stared at a dark screen. This time, when you pressed the power button, it was unresponsive.

Great.

Begrudgingly turning around, you sighed heavily. You fingers were already draining themselves of feeling, every inch of your jumper soaked.

But then, a couple of streets further, you spotted something glittering by the pavement. Your keyring!

Dashing towards it, you didn’t care when your fingers scraped against the cold metal of a drain, grabbing your keys as soon as you could. But when you held them up, you could only stare.

You were definitely the unluckiest person you knew.

The keyring charm itself was intact, but the same could not be said for the mangled metal that hung off it, which had been snapped. No key remained.

Looking back to the ground where you had collected it, you could only see dark tarmac. No key. And below the drain your keyring had been lying on was a torrent of rushing water from the storm.

You were well and truly fucked, only one option left.

Your third journey that night down the roads to Jimin’s was significantly less enjoyable than before. Even your shoes were soaked now and you were shivering from head to toe. It really wasn’t the way you wanted Jimin to see you, looking like a rat that had crawled up from the gutter, but you had nowhere else to go.

Finally reaching Jimin’s road, you were surprised to see his door fly open when you were still halfway down the street, spilling yellow light into the dark. You frowned even more when you saw him step out, wrapped in a raincoat, practically tripping down his own steps before looking around.

Closer now, you were able to catch his attention as you approached. He only stared at you, his adorable face the very picture of shock, before he ran up to you.

“Y/N oh my god! The moment this storm started I got worried, and when I saw a missed call from you I didn’t know what to do! What happened? Are you alright?”

“C-cold,” you said through chattering teeth.

“Shit, yeah, let’s get you back inside,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. If only you could feel where his hand held yours.

Just across the threshold, you held back, knowing you were already soaking the ground.

“Y/N, you’re freezing, please come in,” Jimin pulled you into the living room, not that you could resist when you felt the warmth of his house greet you.

Realising you hadn’t even removed your shoes, you bent to undo your waterlogged laces, but your fingers were uncooperative.

“Here,” Jimin knelt too. You watched as his fingers deftly released your laces, and you let him slide your shoes off. His face was flushed, slightly damp too from his short trip outside.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, sitting back and reaching for you jumper.

Together, you peeled the garment off you, heavy with water.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he said firmly, “you’re staying here.”

Beyond the window, the rain had not let up.

“Okay.”

Making quick work of the rest of your clothes in the bathroom, you left them in a pile on the shower floor. Jimin had luckily left a towel on the radiator. Wrapped up in the warm fluff, you barely wanted to move, but eventually Jimin’s clothes, folded on the floor, tempted you enough.

Emerging fully dressed in the too-big clothes, you found Jimin stumbling down the stairs. Or rather, a moving pile of blankets.

“Any better?” his eyes peeked over the top, making it impossible for you not to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Following him into the living room, you stepped over the wet patches you had created as Jimin dropped the blankets onto the sofa.

“So what happened?” he clambered into the makeshift nest, patting the blankets beside him for you to follow suit.

“My keys found their way down a storm drain,” you sighed, “but I didn’t notice until I got home. And then my phone gave up.”

You let out a dry laugh. It really was ridiculous how the world seemed to be against you.

“Would hot chocolate make it better?”

Your eyes and mouth grew simultaneously and Jimin laughed loudly, head flopping back and soft hair falling away from his face. Anyone would have thought he had just given you a bag of lottery winnings by the way you looked at him.

“Yes, I take it?” he giggled.

Maybe the world was against you, but Jimin was the one thing that made everything better. Sitting next to him surrounded by blankets and sipping cocoa could only be made better if you weren’t just sitting next to him.

As if to prove his place as your personal saviour, Jimin soon snuggled closer to you.

After a few minutes of his head on your shoulder, your arm around him, you whispered into his hair.

“Maybe tonight was lucky in the end.”

“Hmm?” he twisted to look at you and your heart softened even more when you saw his eyes were barely open. Smiling giddily, you pulled back to look at him.

“I just always thought bad things happened to me. But it’s not so bad ending up here with you.”

A hand scrubbed over his face in an effort to wake up a little more. Embarrassment already began to encroach as you watched his mouth opening and closing. Had you said too much?

And then he shuffled closer, all those thoughts dissipating like dandelion seeds as his hand brushed your cheek. His lips lay in a peaceful smile, and you couldn’t take your eyes away as he silently shuffled closer.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sound barely leaving your mouth.

Then his lips met yours.

It wasn’t forceful, quite the opposite. The kind of kiss that made you lean in for more, sweet and lingering, erasing any memory of what existed outside of it. Now his soft touch felt so real, so present and so… Jimin.

Hands ghosted across skin, hungry but tentative.

Time got lost around you as you gave in, indulging in each other until you lay on top of him, breathless as you paused. His eyes were smiling. He was always smiling.

Unable to believe Park Jimin kissed you, wanted you too, you stared at him, trying to soak it all in.

Another laugh passed his lips, joy overflowing. His arms tightened around your waist, squeezing you tightly against his chest, and a kiss was pressed to your forehead.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You had to look back at his face then, just to check those words had actually passed his lips.

“Yes!”

The room was familiar, even though it was dark. Nothing could be seen but you knew you had been here before.

The woman had not moved. Was she still angry?

For the first time, the fire shows itself as more than just a glimmer lighting the wisened face. No, it is there, bright and dancing.

Taunting.

You can’t look away but it burns your eyes. That is not all it burns.

The woman’s hand reaches out, engulfed in the fire, and suddenly your silence bursts.

The fire is deafening, cracking like a monster walking on bones, roaring in its pain. Maybe the darkness is the smoke. It gets in your eyes, but you still can’t look away, can’t blink, and beyond the red beast, the woman in still there, voice finally loud and strong, surfacing in the brief moments through the blazing fire.

You can’t understand her.

But you understand she is not a friend. You know from the way her hand rises from the fire unscathed. She must be a friend to the fire, but the fire is hurting you.

You can’t move.

You can’t look away.

Smoke is in your lungs, fire clings to your skin.

You can’t scream but you need to, you need to get out of here, but no one knows you’re here, you don’t even know where here is, or how you got here, but it hurts, and she only wants to hurt you more, and-

Someone is shouting but it’s not her this time and it cuts through the fire. Then it stops and you fall back, darkness and blinding fire side by side-

“Y/N!”

Hands on your shoulder. The room is dark. Where is the smoke? Breath judders in and out of your throat. You cough. The hands draw back. The fire is gone too.

A dim light flicks on and Jimin looks at you. Propped on his elbow, he looks down at you where you lie on the pillow, other hand coming up to stroke down your face. You were used to waking up like this, alone, but now he was there and all you wanted was his warmth.

When you dived towards him, he folded you in his arms, holding you close as you breathed in his safety.

“You okay?” he spoke into the stillness.

At first, you nodded into his chest. Then you thought he might want a bit more detail about why you had woken him in the middle of the night, so you lifted your head. Nose-to-nose on the pillow, you explained.

“It’s this dream I keep having,” you whispered, “I always forget about it after, but it keeps coming back. It was… different, today.”

“What happens in the dream?” a delicate crease formed between Jimin eyebrows.

“I’m in a dark room…” your eyes wandered to the air by his ear as you tried to picture it, “there’s this woman there. And she’s always saying something, but I can never hear. And there’s a fire. Today she made the fire grow, and I could hear her for once, but I still didn’t understand what she was saying.”

“Strange…” he murmured.

“I know,” you sighed, shuffling closer to him under the duvet, “but let’s go back to sleep.”

“Not until I kiss you better,” he smirked, voice still husky with sleep as he rolled you over and planted more perfect kisses to your lips.

Quickly circling your arms and legs around him, you eagerly reciprocated. Your bodies fit together so well, both defying sleep as the kisses continued between your smiling mouths until the dream was well and truly gone from your mind.

In the morning, your phone seemed to have resurrected itself from where it was charging at the wall, and it decided to announce this loudly to Jimin’s entire apartment. Both stirring at the same time when the ringtone blasted across the room, you extricated yourselves from each other.

Jimin reached across for his own phone, groaning when he saw that it was already eleven and promptly flopping back onto the bed. You, on the other hand, abandoned the comfort of the warm bed in favour of making whoever was calling shut up.

However, just as you reached your phone, it fell silent anyway.

Opening it and scrolling through the notifications, you found it was Jungkook who had phoned. You had used Jimin’s phone to text them in the end yesterday, and they said they would come back from the festival early to let you in, so you supposed he was back.

Taking it off charge, you opened Jungkook’s messages, of which there were several from last night.

Before you could read them, though, Jimin’s ringtone started up. Looking up, you admired his muscular back as he twisted to pick it up.

“It’s Jin,” he frowned, looking to you.

Sitting back on the bed, you just shrugged.

“Hello?” Jimin greeted.

He was leaning back on one arm, but as he listened to whatever Jin was saying, he sat forwards, face growing serious.

“O-okay, yeah,” he said.

Startling you, he pushed the covers aside and pulled his wardrobe open, one hand still occupied with the phone. When he had pulled out a random pair of jeans and a shirt, he turned to you. He crossed the room rapidly, holding out the phone for you to take.

You stared between his face and the phone, then shook yourself and hurriedly took it.

“Jin?”

“Y/N, we just got back… I think you should probably come here.”

“Okay, we can come soon, what’s going on?”

“Um, well…” for a moment your heart froze as he paused, fearing what might be wrong. Jungkook could be heard faintly in the background.

“Are you still there? Jin?”

“There was a fire.”

Now it was your turn to be silent. You were aware that your boyfriend was undressing right behind you, but all you could do was sit still.

“What?” you choked.

“Listen, don’t worry, it’s going to be okay-“

“How bad?”

Another pause from Jin, and you knew he didn’t want to say.

“Most of the apartment is fine, it’s just your room…” you heard the soft creak of your sofa as he sat heavily, “just come here, okay? We’ll sort something out.”

“Y-yeah. See you soon.”

Shakily, you stood. Jimin was fully dressed, car keys already in hand.

It was exactly like Jin had said, but that still didn’t make it any better.

You knocked on the door, greeted with a lingering hug from Jin. He always gave those kind of hugs, like he was trying to hold you together with his own arms. From the outside, your place looked the same, but you could already see black streaks on the wall as you looked down the corridor, where Jungkook nervously licked and bit his lip alternately.

Yoongi and Namjoon were also there, trying very hard to blend into the wall. They took the first chance they could to join Jimin by the door as you stepped past them all towards your room.

Black seeped around the edges of your door. You felt numb as you pushed against it, swinging it open to reveal an unrecognisable space. Everything was completely ravaged by the fire, curtains hanging from the pole in rags, dark debris covering the floor and furniture stained darker than it was ever meant to be.

Your feet disturbed the dust of what was once yours, carrying you further into the wreckage.

Until a hand landed on your shoulder, you simply stood, paralysed. But then Jimin was next to you and you broke into his arms.

“The firefighters were here this morning when we got back,” Jin said, “they told us a candle set fire to your curtain and it started from there.”

You nodded.

That’s all you had been doing for a while since the lot of you had camped out in the living room back at Jimin’s. You had been huddled against him ever since as your flatmates made calls to the landlord, insurance, repair services and so on.

It wasn’t too severely damaged.

That’s what the general consensus was, and you could go back to living there after a couple of days unless any complications were found as they cleaned up the house. But for you, it was different. It was your stuff that had burned.

Even the photos in the hallway that burned, the only victims of the flames that had escaped your room, were all of you. For the thousandth time, you questioned if someone out there really hated you so much.

At least your friends didn’t.

They hadn’t expected anything of you, letting you stay silent and sorting everything out. Now that all anyone could do was wait, a lazy day was declared and the blankets made a return appearance.

Jimin invited his friends Tae and Hoseok, who were apparently also friends with his flatmates, and Jin went shopping with Namjoon, insisting on cooking later.

You had to admit, being surrounded by Jimin and your friends did lift your spirits. Taehyung and Jungkook had instantly hit it off, goofing around as crap TV played in the background. All the sweets you had failed to eat the night before came in especially useful for such a big group.

Jin’s food was excellent as always, and you had recovered enough by dinner time to notice something different about your friend.

“Did you see my messages last night?” Jungkook whispered, digging his elbow into you. You squealed, but he shushed you, looking around at the others.

It was getting dark, and you had all piled together for a film (not horror).

When the others’ eyes left you, you glared at your youngest friend.

“I didn’t. What is it?”

Beside you, Jimin’s arm tightened around your waist as he leaned forwards, resting his chin on your shoulder to hear Jungkook too.

“Yeah Kook, what is it?” he chuckled.

“Jin-hyung was on date!” Kook’s big eyes sparkled with excitement as you sat forward with a start, evicting Jimin from his spot on your shoulder.

“What?!” you whisper-shouted.

“I know!”

Spluttering for something to say, you grabbed Kook’s hands as you both bounced up and down on the sofa, Jimin hiding laughter behind his hand at the two of you.

“Who was it? How did you find out? Did he like them? Ohmygod!” you rambled.

Jungkook laughed, but supressed it quickly, smile full to bursting as he leaned forwards, barely containing himself.

“Namjoon-hyung,” he whispered.

Now Jimin’s eyes bulged from his head along with you.

“Oh my god.”

Satisfied with your reactions, Jungkook giggled as you and Jimin exchanged looks.

“Hush, you lot. And I would be careful – Jin and I are not the only ones who seem to have got up to something this weekend.”

Three pairs of wide eyes turned towards Namjoon, who was right beside Jungkook. He simply snorted a laugh, dimples making an appearance as he turned back to the film without another word.

You stayed quiet after that.

Jimin had to admit, your pessimism seemed to be justified.

From a roof tile falling on you, people spilling coffee on you, your keys vanishing mysteriously on the very night your apartment caught fire, unlucky would be an understatement. Now he sat in the library, mind drifting back to all the time he had known you.

The first time you had come round to study, he remembered staring in surprise at all your memory sticks. You kept so many on you, as well as saving your work onto enough clouds to make a storm, on top of keeping notes on paper.

Perhaps you weren’t just disorganised as you claimed. In fact, you seemed extremely organised, but you insisted your documents went missing all the time.

He placed down another book on the growing pile beside him, pulling the next one out.

When he had taken you back to your room after the fire, he sadly placed a row of charred pot plants in a bin bag. They were all dead anyway, you had said, I can never keep them alive.

Yoongi had come to the library too, under the guise of studying. If studying consisted of forcing Namjoon to let him into the staff room for unlimited coffee, then he was being very productive.

But when Jimin confessed his fears, Yoongi had also told him about you dreaming in class.

Only a few passing paragraphs had struck him as relevant so far in his quest for research, and the sky was already dimming outside. Only a couple more books sat on his left side, the books he hadn’t read yet. Sighing in defeat, he placed yet another book across to the right and pulled the largest tome yet over to him.

This one didn’t look like it had been touched in years, leather binding groaning as he heaved it open, coughing at the dust that spewed from its pages. But finally, he saw something promising in the contents.

Turning the yellowed pages, he reached his destination, instantly knowing from the illustrations that this was it. A full moon, just like the one outside the library window. A wilted plant. A spider-web of swirling black smoke.

Eyes devouring the words on the page, he eventually sat back. For a moment, he looked at the thin air in front of him, swallowing hard.

Then he sprung into action, pulling out his phone and snapping photos of the book. It shut heavily in another cloud of dust, and then it was away on the shelf and Jimin’s thumb was hovering over your contact as he rushed to his flatmates at the desk.

“I’ve found it!”

Namjoon mumbled something that sounded a lot like finally as Yoongi turned away from him towards Jimin. He was already calling you, wanting to meet up to share his findings.

The ringtone stopped, and he opened his mouth to greet you, only for your voicemail to speak first.

Brow creasing, he pulled his phone away and hung up, pressing call again.

Nothing.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, but Jimin was looking past him. The moon hung so innocently in the sky, but Jimin’s veins were turning to ice.

“We have to go. Now.”

The week following such an eventful Halloween had been a blur. You were pretty sure tonight was the first time you had been alone since that night.

Jungkook was at home with his family for his brother’s birthday, Jin working late at the restaurant.

Jimin had been working in the library all day with his flatmates too, leaving you at your newly repaired house all by yourself. As per a yearly tradition, Jin had salvaged some pumpkins from his work that were due to be thrown out when pumpkin pie left the menu, but you were the only one around to carve them at the moment.

But you were bored. And there were plenty, too many if you were honest, and you were always terrible, so it wouldn’t hurt to practise before Jimin had to witness your shocking pumpkin art skills.

And this was how you ended up in the middle of a storm of pumpkin innards in your kitchen, wonky face leering from the unfortunate vegetable behind you as you looked around at the mess.

Having already slipped over once on the orange goo, you decided cleaning up took priority over improving your artistry. Setting the knife down, you bent down and scooped up the largest clump, a few seeds falling from your hands as you shuffled over to the bin on your knees.

Pushing your hair behind your ear and leaving a sticky orange clump while you were at it, you leaned across to another patch, right at the base of the counter.

But as you stretched out your fingers, a shape fell down your vision. Before you could even blink, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your arm as metal clattered to the tile.

Recoiling, you were met with bright red. The knife that had leapt from the side was the sharpest one in the kitchen, Jin’s pride and joy. Where it had hit your arm, aided by gravity, it had easily sliced into your skin which now spewed blood at an alarming rate as you jumped up, eyes glued to the injury.

Bandages. Clean it. Stop the blood.

Minor first aid had been drilled into your head since you were younger, given all the scrapes and bruises you accumulated. But now, as red spattered onto your kitchen floor, you couldn’t seem to remember the order to do things.

Where were the bandages anyway?

No, clean it. Yes.

Ripping your eyes away, you clutched the edge of the sink as you stuck your arm under running water. It burned like fire into your cut.

Snatching your arm back, you watched the pale red splash up the edges of the sink, now falling onto the counter too. Shit. Clamping your other hand over the injury, you squeezed it and hissed in pain just as the room wobbled around you.

Scratch all this. You needed to lie down.

Eyes set on the sofa, you stepped towards it, but you never made it that far.

In the brightness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

Fire blazes all around her, throwing her face into light, nearly erasing the wrinkles that cling to her.

She is louder than the fire, words you do not recognise spilling from her lips. You’ve heard this kind of thing before, though, and you know she is gifted. Her words carry the distinct sound of the language of magic.

Though you do not understand it, you know she is not a friend.

But her words change.

Within the hostile words, there is one you know. A name.

But it isn’t yours. Why are you here if she wants Eunji? Eunji is your grandmother’s name.

Before you can ask, the fire stops burning. Silence returns.

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. She is lit by moonlight.

“Why are we in such a hurry anyway?” Yoongi eyed his friend in the passenger seat as he chewed his lip, looking back at his phone for the third time in a minute.

“Something bad might have happened.”

Resurfacing from his blank phone screen, Jimin watched the light turn to green, relieved when Yoongi pulled away much too fast.

When they pulled up outside your building, Jimin had already thrown his seatbelt off, jumping out before Yoongi had even turned the car off. Frowning, he followed his friend as he ran to the door, nearly beating it down with the force of his knocks.

No one answered.

He had thought you could be just napping, missing the phone calls. Letting your phone die was a special talent of yours, anyway.

But no one could sleep through the racket Jimin was making.

Joining Jimin at the door, he looked around. Since you had been locked out, Jin had given in and had a spare key made to ‘save you from yourself’. Picking up a pot plant from the doorstep, Yoongi revealed the key, which Jimin instantly dived for.

“Y/N?” Jimin was running up the hallway.

Yoongi heard him gasp before he had reached the corner himself, but it made him speed up.

It was a good thing Jimin had panicked. Because there you were, out cold on the kitchen floor, blood flowing from your arm and a knife stained red lying nearby.

Yoongi already had his phone to his ear as Jimin crashed to his knees next to you, crying out your name and pulling you onto his knees. No response came. Looking wildly around him, he grabbed for a towel, rolling it up and pressing it into your arm where the blood still seeped out.

He barely heard Yoongi talking behind him as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, free hand cupping your face, running his thumb shakily across your cheekbone.

The paramedics didn’t arrive for too long. Then he blinked and they were everywhere, hands pulling him back away from you. You got lost in the water warping his vision.

But you would be okay.

That was what they said, but he could barely believe it when he walked into your hospital room at last, greeted with your eyes, awake and alive. Your sheepish smile, embarrassed at another mishap.

It felt like air had entered his lungs for the first time since it all left him when he had seen you on the floor some hours ago.

“Thank god,” he choked when his face was finally pressed into your hair, arms holding so tight you weren’t sure you would ever escape. Not that you would complain about that.

His lips found yours desperately, telling you how much he cared, how much he worried. Eyes fluttering shut, you returned the embrace, reveling in the feeling.

A cough startled you apart.

“Get a room,” Jin complained. It didn’t quite have the same effect when his smile wouldn’t leave his face.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we are in a room,” you retorted.

Nonetheless, Jimin stepped back and let Jin hug you. Yoongi followed not far behind with a carrier of coffee for everyone. Jungkook had already called you, just before they all arrived, promising bucketloads of junk food when he came back.

“I thought I banned you from my good knives,” Jin fixed you with a stare as he sat down.

You avoided his gaze.

“The others weren’t strong enough for the pumpkin,” you muttered, aware of how stupid it sounded.

He just sighed.

“I’m just glad Jimin turned up when he did,” Jin squeezed Jimin’s knee, “how did you know to come anyway?”

“Well…” Jimin shuffled in his seat, “I sort of found something out…”

Looking to the other occupants in the room, you found their gazes just as blank as yours.

“What do you mean?”

Tugging his chair a little closer, Jimin reached out for your hand, enclosing it in his.

“I was doing some research. We all know you’re clumsy, unlucky and bad things happen to you a lot-“

“Thanks Jimin,” you said drily, eyebrows climbing your face.

“No, no! I still l- you know what I mean,” he sighed after you burst out laughing at his panic, “no, but seriously Y/N, I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I study curses, and all the signs are there. Dreams, bad luck, unlikely accidents. I found a book, there was this illustration about a particular curse, it matched the scorch marks from the fire at your place exactly. It’s an old curse, elders used it to wish ill fortune on a family line, and it relies on moon magic. And tonight was a full moon, and this happened, so…”

Staring back at your boyfriend, you were glad for the grounding presence of his hand. You hadn’t understood all of what he said, not knowing anything about magic yourself, but it was clear what he thought.

You were cursed.

“But-but my family aren’t cursed,” you spoke quietly, “you said it was a family curse-”

“A family line curse,” he explained, “it only affects one person, but it’s a curse bestowed on someone else in your family. Sometimes people want to hurt a loved one of the one they curse, not the enemy themselves.”

“That’s horrible,” you whispered.

“I know,” Jimin said, “and that’s why we need to break it. I’m sure I’m right about this, it all fits. I can show you the book I found, if you want.”

Nodding, you looked at your lap.

“How do we break it?”

“That’s a little more tricky…” Jimin admitted, pushing a hand through his hair, “we need to find out who cast it in the first place. That way we can unwork exactly what was done, since it’s a highly personal curse.”

“My grandma,” you muttered.

“Sorry?”

“I think it was my grandma.”

You eyes met Jimin’s. Greeted with his full attention, you took a breath and elaborated.

“I had another dream… or, at least, I think it was a dream. It was while I was passed out. It was the same as before, but, well, it was quite different actually. But the woman, she definitely said my grandma’s name.”

“Then you’re probably right,” Jimin squeezed your hand, “shall we give her a call?”

As the dial tone bleeped in your ear, you looked around at your friends. Although Yoongi had dozed off in his chair, Jin was giving you an encouraging smile. When your eyes met, he gave you a thumbs up. Grinning, you leaned back into Jimin’s arms where he sat on the bed behind you.

“Hello?” your grandpa’s voice finally greeted you.

“Oh, hi, grandpa, it’s me,” you smiled.

“Hello sweetie! How are you?” he asked, “your dad told us you had an accident today.”

“Yes, I’m fine thank you. I was wondering if I could talk to grandma?”

“Ah, sorry love, she’s out at the moment. Bad luck.”

Not funny grandpa. Bad luck was the exact thing you were trying to shake off.

“Okay,” you sighed, “maybe she could phone me when she gets back?”

“Hold on,” your grandpa’s voice grew more distant. In the distance, a door clicked. “I think that’s her now. I’ll get her.”

Suddenly, his yell of ‘EUNJIII!’ made you jump, hurriedly jerking away from your phone.

“Hello dear?” your grandma’s voice crackled across and you deemed it safe to return the device to your ear.

“Hi grandma. I have something I have to ask you.”

“Of course,” you could practically hear her smiling, but you felt yourself growing hot. How were you meant to breach such a subject?

“Um, were you ever, I mean, how-“ a deep breath, “are you cursed?”

Wow. Real tactful, you scolded yourself mentally.

“Oh!” you grandma laughed on the other line, “I see, dear. Any reason you’re asking.”

“Um, just, that, maybe, I might be sort of… cursed, too,” you winced.

“I mean, you are quite unlucky…” she gave an awkward laugh, but offered nothing more.

“Grandma,” you begged, “please tell me.”

She sighed.

“Okay. Yes, I was cursed. I never believed it though, but ever since you came along, I started to see the truth. Your grandpa knows all this too, but I never thought it would be so bad.”

“But we can break it grandma,” you encouraged, “it can be broken if we know why it was cast in the first place.”

“You can really break it?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“I’m so sorry, I never knew anything about all this magic, I just thought… well, I can tell you what happened.

“Y/N, the thing is... I’m bisexual. And when I was your age, I had a girlfriend. When her mother found out, she was very angry. Back then, people weren’t accepting like they are now, and she wouldn’t tolerate us being together. They were from a community of magic and she blamed me for ‘leading her daughter astray’, and tried to curse me, saying I would feel her pain when I had a daughter of my own.”

“Oh,” you breathed. That made sense. Your grandma only had one child, your father. So… “I’m the next daughter in the family.”

“Yes, my dear,” your grandma sighed, “so you see why I never believed her. She was just a hateful old woman, and when your dad was fine, I thought the curse wasn’t real. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s okay, grandma,” you told her, “I still love you very much. We will break it. Thank you for telling me.”

Magic in real life was nothing like what you had seen on TV. Well, you were doing a different kind, you supposed.

Jimin had a massive book on the floor in front of him, a row of dried plants beside him. Eyeing them, you took deep breaths. Jimin’s explanation hadn’t really made sense to you, so you just planned to go with whatever the process was.

You had understood one thing, however.

“Homophobic piece of shit curse,” you grumbled, picking aggressively at the floorboards. “This would be so much better if I had to kiss a girl, just to stick it to that woman.”

Smile tugging at his lips, Jimin looked up at you.

“Do you not want to kiss me?”

“Of course I want to kiss you, idiot,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m just saying.”

Chuckling, Jimin bent back over his book.

“Well, I think we’re ready. Then you never have to kiss me again.”

“No, Jimin!” you gasped, “I want to kiss you plenty!”

“Come here then,” he laughed.

Giggling, you walked to him and knelt in front of him, returning to the gorgeous familiarity of his kiss, his hands tantalising on your waist.

“Okay,” he panted, eventually drawing back, “that was a good practise. Time to do it for real. Are you ready?”

Nodding, you climbed off him and sat, mirroring his position cross-legged on the floor. At his reassuring smile, you closed your eyes.

You felt his soft palm rest on your forehead, and he murmured something. Though it was incomprehensible to you, it did stir something in you. Though your eyes were closed, your retinas seemed flooded with golden light, while something churned low in your stomach.

The hand stayed in place as the scent of lavender engulfed you, one of the plants Jimin had prepared. He spoke again.

Suddenly, the light flashed and disappeared, the world sinking into darkness.

One face is visible.

You know her, you have been here before, and she is still talking.

But now the smoke in the room is visible, light grey tendrils rising from burning lavender. There is no fire. The woman’s voice changes then.

The language of magic continues, but Jimin’s voice is sounding through the room, and another smell meets you, a herb you do not know.

You stay there for a while. Although you do not move, you are sure you could if you wanted. You aren’t in danger here anymore.

Her hand raises. She has done that before, but this time there is no threat. You are sure of it. You know it from the way light pools in her palm, warm, innocent, inviting.

You cannot look away.

Maybe you are floating. Something is pulling at you, and suddenly you gasp, tasting the herbs in the air. It feels like something is moving inside you. You clutch your chest, feeling something curling around your heart, fighting, and then it is rising and you are choking on it.

Maybe you are dying.

Gasping and spluttering, you find no air. But something finds you. A kiss like home, sweet against your lips, and when they pull away, air spills in.

A whisper by your ears, so close the breath moves your hair.

“Open your eyes.”

The room is light, and one face is visible. Jimin smiles.

“It worked!”

Tackling your boyfriend to the floor in a hug, you press your face into his chest. You couldn’t believe it. It was really gone!

“How do you feel?” he laughed.

“Great! Amazing! Perfect!” you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, “I could do anything! I can have plants without killing them now, right! Jin might let me in the kitchen! Oh my god, I’m going to win a video game against Jungkook!”

Ecstatic, you watched Jimin laughing hysterically under you, joy written all over his face. It suited him.

Maybe now the curse was gone, you could do anything, but there was one thing you wanted more than all that.

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

Please please please reblog if you liked it, sharing my work really helps me out! Thank you for reading💜

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Epilogue

First  -  Previous

Yep, this is it :’’’( The very end. I most certainly teared up a bit while writing it. Thank you all so much for reading, sharing, and commenting. I still have trouble believing how many people actually like my writing, but you all have never dropped your support. I really mean it when I tag ‘love you guys’ on every chapter.

If you want to see any of my other works, Here is my AO3! 

Thank you again for sharing this journey with me. And now, on to the finale!

cw: flashback from an outsider’s pov, food

~

“Everything’s fine? The move went well?”

“Dad, we’re fine,” Patton replied, smiling at the camera. Logan shifted uncomfortably on the other end. “Really, we’re good. The neighbors even brought over some banana bread.”

His father flinched at the mention of neighbors, then forced a smile onto his face. “That’s . . . very kind. Of them. To do that.”

“Yes, it is,” Patton encouraged.

Logan hadn’t been able to take enough time off work to come visit them yet, so it had been five months since they had seen each other in person. They video chatted every day, but Father always seemed on edge. As time passed, he didn’t appear to be getting much better at all with the distance. Remus would sometimes sit in on the calls, and he seemed happy with Father’s progress, but Patton couldn’t help but compare him to the man he’d grown up with. Where was the quiet strength, the soft smiles, the feeling of protection?

Patton didn't blame him, though. They had all changed. It was part of life, and growing, and learning. Nothing stayed the same, and that was okay.

“How are you and Virgil?” Father asked, as he always did. Patton laughed a little.

“We’re good,” Patton signed. “I told you that we’re doing therapy together, right?” Logan nodded. Patton nodded as well. “Yeah, it’s cheaper. And we’re learning a lot.”

“And no fights between the roommates?”

“We . . . we did just move in yesterday.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are four of you,” he signed. “Who knows?”

“Since it’s only two bedrooms, Remus and Roman have decided to share too,” Patton told him, “but Virgil and I are pretty sure that won’t last long. They have a deal to trade between the bed and the air mattress every other week, but Virgil thinks it won’t even be one week before one of them drags the air mattress into the living room.”

The room shook a bit and Patton looked up to see Virgil closing the front door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and propped his white cane up in the corner behind the door, before turning his head from this way to that, listening.

“I’m on the couch,” Patton called out. Father jumped at the sound of his voice, but tried to play it off as straightening his collar.

Virgil waved in the direction of the couch, then promptly tripped over Roman’s dress shoes. Patton giggled when he signed a curse as well as saying it out loud.

Virgil paused by the couch, well in view of the laptop that Patton was video chatting on. Father began talking (probably a greeting) as Patton hopped up to kiss his boyfriend. Virgil smiled, said something in response to Father, then headed toward the kitchen.

Patton checked to make sure his phone was on. Remus had been the one to do the shopping, and who knew how he had thrown everything into the cupboards and fridge. It was a little after noon, so Roman would probably be home soon to help Virgil find food, but if he didn’t want to wait Virgil would take a picture of the contents of the fridge and text it to Patton so that he could tell him the locations of each thing.

“How is everything for you? Remus says he won’t hesitate to drive down there if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Logan smiled softly. “I assure you, I am quite all right,” he waved. “I am even attending therapy.”

“That’s—” Patton dropped his hands as he glanced back at his phone, which had just buzzed. The notification wasn’t a text message, though. It was from the app that all of them had, the one that called for help. The notification was from Virgil. His heart dropped, just as it always did.

“I’ve got to go, goodbye,” Patton signed quickly. He’d closed the laptop before Father even finished his farewell. Then he was up and off to the kitchen, which luckily was only a few steps away from the living room.

Virgil was crouched on the floor, a container of food open in front of him. His hands covered his face and his whole body was trembling, tension in every line.

Patton froze for a moment, scared. What could he do? He had no idea what had triggered Virgil, or if they had any ice cubes to use to snap him out of it, or if he would even be able to bring him back by himself. But the moment of uncertainty passed, and Patton dropped to his knees beside the shaking man.

It was easy to kick the leftovers away, less easy to maneuver Virgil into his arms. Once they were sort of comfortable on the floor, Patton began tracing soothing words into Virgil’s arm. It wasn’t instant, but soon enough Virgil began to calm down, eventually breathing in a steady rhythm.

“You okay?” Patton asked quietly. Virgil shrugged, gripping his jeans as his legs continued to shake. Patton held him closer, a hand rubbing his back soothingly.

Don’t let go, Virgil wrote tremulously onto Patton’s arm.

I never will.

When Roman arrived home, slinging his backpack onto the card table that made up their dining room, he found them still that way, curled up in each other on the tiled kitchen floor. He made a mental note to later ask what had happened, quietly picked up the container of food, then retreated to his and Remus’s bedroom.

-

Remus pushed open their bedroom door, ready to just flop onto whichever bed was Roman’s. Lucky him, Roman was already stretched out there, a container of leftover pasta and a plastic fork beside him. He looked up from the food and smiled cautiously.

“Hey,” he said. “How was therapy?”

Remus shrugged.

Roman winced. “Is that . . . not something I’m supposed to ask about? Virgil’s usually okay with talking about it a bit, but—”

“Nah, it’s . . . whatever.” Remus dropped to the mattress on the floor, toeing off his socks. “Didn’t really say anything, but that’s group therapy for ya. Not talking doesn’t waste anybody’s time.”

Roman was quiet for a moment, and Remus glanced at him. He looked like he was thinking—always a first time for everything, Remus supposed. As soon as Remus had pulled his phone out of his pocket, Roman spoke.

“Do you think that, possibly, I could come with you? Next time?”

Okay, apparently there was a first time for everything. Remus frowned and dropped his phone, looking at the wall.

Roman was quick to backtrack. “I mean, I know that I didn’t go through all that . . . stuff . . . that you did, but . . . I don’t know. Maybe as support for you?”

“Is this still about you punching me?” Remus asked, eyes narrowed. “Because I told you, we’re cool.”

Roman shrugged awkwardly, his face turning red. “Yeah, I just want to help you in any way that I can. Also, Virgil thinks that I might be developing secondhand trauma?” he added, grimacing. “So I thought that perhaps I could benefit from it. And learn more ways to help all of you.”

“Roman, that’s. . . .” He wanted to say ‘very thoughtful’ or ‘selfless’ or ‘good thinking’. What came out of his mouth, though, was “expensive.”

Roman looked away, and now it was Remus’s turn to backtrack. “I mean, I did just get that job,” he said quickly, “and I’d love to help ya out in any way that I can. I even wouldn’t mind giving up therapy, if you think you wanna try it out. I don’t need it that bad.”

Roman laughed, and Remus relaxed fractionally. “Don’t worry,” he said, turning back to his pasta. “Mom and Dad are willing to pay for half of it, and I can cover the rest if I cut down my meal plan. After all, we’re buying plenty of food. I don’t need twenty-one meals a week.”

“You sure? After all, you’re walking an extra two blocks to campus,” Remus reminded. “You need all the strength you can get, for such a journey!”

Roman threw a pillow at him. “Shut up,” he chuckled, then frowned. “And give that back.”

Remus shoved the pillow under himself and smirked. “Too late.”

Instead of fighting for it back, Roman just smiled softly and twirled his fork in the pasta. “Yeah. That’s okay, though.”

-

Virgil breathed in as he woke, feeling the warmth of the sun on his arm that rested above the blankets. It wasn’t quite time to get up, then. If it was, the sunlight that filtered through the gap in their blinds would have reached his face.

He lay there for as long as he could, burrowing deeper under the blankets and into Patton’s arms. The softness of his nightshirt rubbed against his nose and cheek, and Virgil sighed contentedly. This was everything.

Yesterday’s flashback had been bad (who even gets triggered by the sound of a container opening?), but Patton had been there. Moving had been hard, but Patton had been there. Therapy was hard, but Patton was there.

It wasn’t just Patton, either. Roman was taking many of the same classes that he was, despite not needing all of them. Remus was willing to drive him just about anywhere, even to a park just to sit in silence for hours. Patton’s dad, for some reason, regularly called him to check up on him. Roman’s parents cared for him like he was another son. Even Roman’s on-and-off boyfriend, Janus, dropped by to hang out sometimes.

So, Virgil had a pretty good support group. On the days when he felt like just giving up, there was always someone to help him up. Just like he was there for the others. They all loved and supported each other, in their own ways.

Patton’s breathing shifted with a snuffle, followed by him nestling his face into Virgil’s hair. A moment later, he was tracing on Virgil’s arm.

Hey you.

Virgil didn’t even try to muffle the giggle that escaped. The ray of sun had reached his head, warming his dark hair. The alarm would be going off at any minute, but for now, he was happy to be in his boyfriend’s arms.

Date tonight? he asked, his fingers moving slowly on Patton’s arm. At the smoothie place, with Roman and Janus?

Sounds good!

Virgil placed his hands on Patton’s chest, meeting his lips for a slow kiss. When they parted, he relaxed back into his love’s arms, unabashedly snuggling. The alarm clock would have to grow arms and pry them apart to get him out of bed.

Old Virgil would have scoffed, unimpressed at his thirst for human contact. Old Virgil wanted to be alone.

As long as it was Roman, and Remus, and Mr. and Mrs. Allred, and Logan, and Janus, and Patton—wonderful, beautiful Patton—Virgil didn’t think he would mind it if he was never alone again.

~ Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail @anteonnix @fantasticfander21 @007ardra

[loftec]

Hi! in this prompt, could we know about Mickey's ex boyfriend or something? I think his name was Matt?

thank you for participating + pre NTW - Mickey's POV 👀

Anon: tell us about Matt

Yevgeny: his name was Mark

Mickey, pinching the bridge of his nose: Martin, and no. I’m not gonna tell you about Martin.

Narrator: little did Mickey know that he had zero say on the matter, let’s goooo.

April 13, 2013. Saturday.

Mickey is just off the L when his phone rings. For a moment, he considers ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as he lights up a cigarette and bounds down the metal steps. The list of people likely to call him is very limited, and most of that list is very welcome to fuck off to voicemail on a Saturday evening. Work can fuck off, telemarketers can doubly fuck off. On this particular Saturday, even his extended family can fuck off. It might be Martin, wondering where he is, but he can quite frankly also fuck off, seeing as Mickey is no more than five minutes away from their agreed rendezvous.

That only leaves one, and the thought alone is enough for Mickey to step out of the flow of people rushing to and from the platform, and check the damned call. Seeing the ID, he quickly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.

”What the fuck?” he asks, unsure if he should be annoyed or alarmed and figuring this would best cover a bit of both.

”Hey dad,” his son says, unexpectedly.

”Yev?” Mickey says, inching towards annoyed. At least his son is unharmed enough to dial a phone, so it can’t be too bad. ”What’s wrong? Where’s Sonya?”

”She’s right here,” Yevgeny says, he sounds fine, normal, good, ”we can’t find the cake poking thing.”

Staring at the empty space in front of him, Mickey feels the rest of his mood swan dive head-first into annoyed. ”The what?”

”The thing we use to poke cakes, to check if they’re done? We can’t find it and we need it, the cake is almost done.”

Taking the forgotten cigarette from his lips, Mickey angles the burning end away from his face as he rubs at the deep line between his eyebrows.

”Kid,” he says, trying to sound calm, ”give the phone to Sonya.”

There are some muffled noises over the line, and then Mickey can hear his son’s distant voice. ”He wants to talk to you.”

”Hey Mickey,” Sonya comes on, breezy as anything. ”Is it supposed to be in the cutlery drawer? Been rifling through that thing for a good minute already.”

”Are you fucking kidding me?”

”What? It’s not such a weird guess, is it? I’d say it’s cutlery adjacent at least.”

”I’ve been outta the fucking house for less than forty minutes!” Mickey says, calmly. He is absolutely not screeching loud enough to have people on the street give him concerned looks. ”And you call me about some fucking–, I don’t have anything like that! Who has a thing specifically for poking cakes?!”

”Oh please,” Sonya scoffs. ”Plenty people do, you being one of them!”

He wants to point out that this is categorically not what he meant when he said ’call me if there’s an emergency’, but he’s got a feeling that this is only going to get him into an argument about the definition of ’emergency’ that he’s not going to win, and besides, he’s got bigger fish to fry right now.

”I absolutely do fucking not!” he splutters, glaring at a couple throwing him side-eye as they rush past him. ”Are you outta your mind?”

”I know you have one, because I gave it to you,” Sonya says, clanking sounds in the background from where she’s still presumably rifling through Mickey’s shit. ”Remember? When you moved in? I got it in Sweden when I was visiting for my cousin’s wedding. It was hand crafted, Mickey, you better not have thrown it out!”

”That thing?” Mickey balks, smoothly electing to not point out that they both know Sonya came home from her trip with like ten of those in her luggage and then spent the next two years giving them to all her friends and family whenever she’d forgot about getting gifts for an occasion. ”I stuck it in Merida.”

The silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and it takes a second for Mickey to hear what he just said.

”Who is Merida, and do I want to know why you stuck my hand-carved Swedish cake poker in her?”

Mickey sighs, and decides that he doesn’t have to answer that. He can try, at least. ”Tell Yev it’s in Merida.”

”I most certainly will not tell your sweet summer child that you’ve stuck the cake poker in–,” her increasingly high pitched voice abruptly falls to a hiss, ”–Merida, who is Merida?”

Luckily, Mickey can hear his son in the background, saving him from having to explain. ”It’s this thing?”

There’s another silence, Mickey takes the opportunity to smoke and accept the inevitable.

”Two questions,” Sonya says, her usual good humor back in her voice. ”One, you stuck my hand-carved Swedish souvenir in a potted plant? And two, you named the plant Merida?”

”It’s cartoon character–,” Mickey starts, before realizing what he’s saying and cutting himself off, ”I didn’t name it, obviously.”

”But you still call it by its name.”

”Whatever,” Mickey blows out a puff of smoke and can’t help smiling. Sometimes he just has to stop and take stock of how fucking ridiculous his life has turned out. And how much he fucking likes it, despite himself. ”Congratulations, you found it. Any other emergency you needed me for, or can I get back to my–”

He swallows, catching himself mid-sentence, suddenly unsure of how he intended to end it.

”–thing.”

”You’re there already?” Sonya asks, sounding genuinely remorseful now. ”Sorry, you left so late I thought for sure you’d missed the train and would still be en route, or I wouldn’t have told Yev to call. How’s the date going?”

Mickey swallows again, throat dry. He starts walking down the street in the direction of the bar.

”It’s fine, still on the way,” he says, ”and it’s not a date.”

”Like heck it isn’t,” Sonya tuts, ”you’re out on a Yev weekend for the first time since I’ve known you, and I saw that shirt you’re wearing.”

He runs a hand self-consciously along his belt, his button-down still tucked in and in place. He refuses to worry about it.

”You looked good, Mickey, I meant to tell you,” Sonya continues, and she doesn’t even sound like she’s teasing anymore which Mickey knows even less how to handle. ”And you’re undeniably on a date.”

”Shut up,” Mickey mutters and smiles to himself when Sonya laughs. Feeling a little more himself, he chucks his cigarette to the curb and stops to look across the road at his destination. ”Maybe.”

He hadn’t really considered the possibility, before Martin asked him. But the sex was always good, they got along really well, and when Martin looked up at him from his bed as Mickey was pulling on his jeans, his hair rumpled and lips still shiny, and asked if he wanted to go to some kind of hipster showcase gig together, Mickey had barely even hesitated.

”About time, too,” Sonya says. ”Was starting to think the guy wasn’t all there, taking his sweet time. Maybe he was waiting for you to ask.”

”Ey,” Mickey shakes his head, ”it’s only been a couple of months.”

”Try six! That’s half of a whole year.”

”Try minding your own fucking business,” Mickey says and frowns. Maybe it has been that long since the first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they’ve been fucking on the regular the whole time since then.

”Just happy for you, Mickey,” Sonya says, like it’s an easy thing for her to say. ”You like him, right?”

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t outright deny it either, which probably tells Sonya everything she needs to know.

”Gotta go,” he says instead, ”and don’t call me again unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. See you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if she’s got something to say to that, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Staring at the unassuming building across the street, he allows himself a moment to take it all in. He’s just casing the joint before he enters, it’s normal fucking behavior. He isn’t stalling.

It doesn’t look too busy from the outside, there’s no line, and no bouncer or guard by the propped open double doors. The walls of the building are littered with layers of posters, on both sides of the doors and across the covered windows. Not much can be seen through the doors from his vantage point, but he assumes that it’s a front room leading to whatever’s going on inside the building.

There’s a guy standing off to the side of the doors, smoking. He’s got a lanyard shoved down his back pocket, ID badge dangling in clear sight. Most likely someone working at the bar, out on a break. His shoulders are hunched and he’s got a phone clutched to his ear, head bent and lips pressed together in a thin line. He nods at whatever is being said to him over the phone. Mickey looks up at the worn sign above the door.

”Fuck it,” Mickey mutters and, pushing aside the last of his niggling doubt, makes his way across the street and through the doors. It’s dark enough inside that his eyes need a second to adjust, before he quickly orients himself and heads toward the noise and lights leaking out from behind a set of swing doors beyond the coat check.

”Excuse me!” someone pipes up behind him, and he turns back to raise his eyebrows at the girl standing behind a counter by the entrance. ”We’ve got a showcase tonight, you need to buy a ticket.”

She makes an apologetic face as Mickey gets closer and pulls out his wallet.

”25,” she says when he gives her a questioning look.

”Christ,” he mutters, but forks over the money. ”This better be good.”

”We’ve got a really exciting lineup tonight, all local acts,” she says, obviously relieved now that he’s payed and she can tuck away his hard earned cash in her little lock box. ”I’m hoping I can take a break soon so I can sneak a peak of the headliner.”

She winks at him as she hands over a ticket, and he has zero fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with any of that.

”Okay?” he says and accepts the ticket. ”What’s this for? I’m already here.”

”In case you want to go in and out,” she says, and then tacks on when she seems to remember something she’s supposed to say; ”there’s no smoking in the venue.”

Mickey shrugs and pockets the ticket, biting back the urge to tell her that there’s no fucking smoking anywhere these days, thank you very much. The girl is still smiling at him when he turns his back on her and heads for the bar.

”Have fun!”

Finally inside, the place seems to be a collection of smaller rooms with some walls knocked down to make a larger, oddly shaped space. The bar is crowded, three bartenders moving around each other and pouring drinks in the narrow space behind it, and all the tables tucked away in the dark half-room next to it seem occupied. In the main room, Mickey finds the small, raised stage with a bigger crowd gathered in front of it. There’s a guy on stage, talking about something and looking like he’s about to cry while getting thoroughly ignored by a majority of his audience.

Mickey included, when he spots Martin a bit to the left of the stage. He’s talking to a couple of people he must have met in the crowd, smiling in that carefree way of his, eyes squeezed together and head tossed back when he laughs. He seems to do that a lot, laugh and talk and make friends wherever he goes. Open about himself in casual throw-away lines as he lets Mickey into his apartment, takes his clothes off, catching his breath, seeing Mickey off again. It’s nice seeing him out here, in the real world.

Maybe this could work. Mickey really should have tried harder to be on time, leaving your date to make new friends while he waits for you to show up seems like a bad move, now that he thinks about it.

Shit. Here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Martin exclaims, face lighting up with a wide smile when Mickey walks into his line of sight. He doesn’t sound upset, really doesn’t look it either when he pulls Mickey in for a quick kiss. It’s over before Mickey’s had the chance to do much else than blink in surprise.

”I’m late,” he acknowledges and hopes Martin will take the attempt at an apology for what it is.

”It’s fine,” Martin gins at him, tilting his head in the direction of the stage, ”you haven’t missed anything good.”

”– have you ever noticed that?” the guy on stage mutters into the microphone, ”I mean–, uh, I’ve noticed, that–, sometimes–”

Tuning the guy out again, Mickey looks past his date at the two people still standing on his other side, regarding them curiously.

”We got a problem?” he asks them, raising his eyebrows further when the woman just smiles at him.

”Oh,” Martin says, angling himself so the four of them make a little semi-circle in the crowd. ”My friends, Nora, Ethan, this is Mickey.”

Mickey stares at the side of Martin’s face for a moment, before he notices Ethan’s outstretched hand. He feels confused enough to grab it in a quick handshake. The woman, Nora, just keeps smiling.

”Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, clearly hiding something. People generally aren’t this smiley without an agenda, in Mickey’s experience.

”Sure,” Mickey says, glancing at Martin for some clue as to what he’s supposed to do now.

”You wanna go get yourself a drink?” Martin asks, pointing in the direction of the bar. ”This comedy train wreck should be over soon, hopefully.”

”Sure,” Mickey says again, wrong-footed by the whole odd situation and frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the feeling that he’s made a huge mistake.

”Go with him!” Nora says, making Martin take a half-step closer to Mickey by shoving lightly at his shoulder. ”We’ll save the spot.”

She gives Martin a pointed look and some kind of silent communication seems to happen between them, ending with her looking victorious and Martin dropping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. Then he turns to Mickey and playfully gestures for him to lead the way.

”Sorry about her,” he says once they’ve reached the bar, leaning in closer to speak directly into Mickey’s ear. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. ”I keep telling her to back off, but she’s got it in her head that we’re doing something we’re not.”

Mickey swallows and turns his head to look at Martin when he leans back.

”And what are we doing?” he asks, and he doesn’t realize how it sounds until he sees Martin’s gobsmacked expression.

He lets out a startled laugh. ”Are we really gonna talk about this now? Here?”

And technically, Mickey agrees with him. He really doesn’t want to have the ’what are we’ conversation, and he definitely doesn’t want to have it now, here. But he’s already said it, and now he needs to know.

”Maybe,” he says and frowns when Martin just stares at him for a moment.

”I don’t know?” Martin eventually says. ”We have fun, right? I didn’t think you wanted it to be more than that?”

Mickey can barely hear his own thoughts over the noise from the bar, but he can practically feel his heartbeat in his throat. ”Do you?”

Martin makes a pained face, like it’s an involuntary reaction to the mere idea, before he shrugs helplessly and gives Mickey an uncertain smile.

”We don’t really have anything in common, Mickey,” he says. ”I don’t know, I just don’t see it going anywhere.”

”Thank you for participating,” the guy on stage says, his voice louder and verging on hysterical. It gives Mickey a reason to look away from Martin’s face for a second, hating the sympathetic twist to his lips. He feels like a fool.

”You suck!” someone yells in the audience.

”Yeah? Right back at you buddy!”

”Get off the stage!”

”Sure,” Mickey says, and nods. ”No, sure. You’re right.”

”Sorry?” Martin says and grins when Mickey rolls his eyes. ”And we can still have fun, right? Hey, I’ll buy you a drink! What do you want?”

”Anything, a beer,” Mickey tries to focus on Martin, on the list of prices pinned to the wall behind the bar, but there is suddenly too much noise, too many people, too much… stuff. ”I just gotta–”

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stops. He doesn’t know what he wants, but getting out of this room would be a good start.

Martin looks confused, and then tuts reproachfully when Mickey pulls out his pack of smokes and gestures in the direction of the doors. He hates it when Mickey smokes, always makes him brush his teeth before they do anything. Guess that’s another thing they don’t have in common. Mickey hadn’t given it much thought.

He leaves Martin by the bar to fend for the bartender’s attention on his own and goes back outside, ignoring the surprised look on the girl by the door when he strides past her. Once outside, he’d hoped the fresh air and relative silence would knock him back on track, but it doesn’t. Everything is exactly the same, only now he can add ’running away like a pussy’ to the list of tonight’s embarrassments. He hates this, this isn’t him.

He should go back inside, show Martin and his friends that he doesn’t give a shit. Have a couple of beers, get through the night, make that asshole suck his dick until he can’t feel anything but a warm mouth and his own pleasure. But he’s not repaying any favors, not tonight, let that shithead take care of himself, since he can’t see it going anywhere. Fuck that. It’s fine.

”I know–, no, I know…”

Wrapped up in his own bullshit, Mickey hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. The same man from before is still on the phone, and he looks if possible even more miserable than he did when Mickey first arrived.

”That isn’t–, no, I know you didn’t… listen–”

Mickey ignores him, taking out a cigarette putting it to his lips. Might as well, he’s already out here. He lights it up. He, lights it up… come the fuck on, he lights it up. His lighter is out. Fucking great.

”Ey,” he says and turns to the guy on the phone, ”you got a light?”

The guy stares at him, and Mickey absently thinks he looks even worse up close. Like, disturbingly hot and built enough to properly toss a guy around if he wanted, but absolutely worn down by whatever it is he’s doing with whoever’s on the phone with him. Whatever, not Mickey’s problem. He shakes his empty lighter when the guy doesn’t immediately react.

”Oh,” the guy blinks, his eyes are red. He digs out a lighter from somewhere and hands it over. ”Here.”

”Thanks,” Mickey steps close enough so he can reach out and take it, and consequently hear the distant sound of a man’s voice on the other end of the line. He can’t make out any words, but the tone is unmistakable. The guy frowns and turns away slightly.

”Jesus, Jace, what the fuck?” he says, voice low and sharp. ”Are you serious right now? I’m not–, you know what?”

Mickey lights up and takes a couple of steps away to give the guy some privacy, but might still watch him out of the corner of his eye and hear pretty much everything he says. Call him a nosy bitch, but he really needs the distraction right now.

”I can’t do this right now,” the guy sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ”We’re on in like ten minutes and I can’t–, I can’t do this with you right now. I asked you for time.”

He listens, and whatever it is that’s being said to him seems to hit a nerve. The general air around him of annoyed resolve slowly shifts into something more resigned.

”Yeah, I know… I’m sorry,” he says, and Mickey doesn’t know him or his situation, but he knows this can’t be right. ”Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. Yeah, thanks… I will. Love you, too.”

Mickey shouldn’t be listening to this, he should finish his cigarette and go back inside. Find Martin and enjoy the night, have some fucking fun. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home, put on some fucking comfortable clothes and watch a movie with his kid.

”Heads up,” he says and waits until the phone guy looks up before he lobs the lighter back at him. He fumbles, but catches it. ”Fuck him, you deserve better.”

The guy stares at him, and rightly so. Mickey doesn’t know why he said that, he doesn’t know anything about it. But the guy looks… he looks a bit like Mickey’s feeling, deep down and buried many times over.

He looks lost.

”You deserve better,” Mickey repeats, because he already said it and he’s nothing if not all in. The guy opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably thinking of ways to get away from the freak accosting him on the street with unsolicited affirmation bullshit. Which, fair enough. Guess that’s Mickey’s cue to fuck off. If the guy would just stop staring at him like that.

A hand-holding couple suddenly walks right through their intense moment, heading for the doors. Mickey comes back to himself and, thinking quick, he takes out his ticket and waves it at the couple to get their attention.

”No thanks,” the man said, probably thinking he’s trying to sell it.

”Just fucking take it,” Mickey grumbles, shoving the ticket at them.

”Uh, thanks?”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand at them, already on his way.

”Thank you!” someone shouts after him.

He can’t wait to get home. Kick off his shoes, wash out the gel in his hair. Untuck his fucking shirt. Investigate whatever that cake poking business was about, hopefully cake. Watch his kid watch a movie, see his little face light up and mouth along with the words. Absolutely ignore Sonya’s inevitable attempts to get him to ’talk about it’.

His life is fucking fine the way it is, he doesn’t know why he got it in his head to try and make it something it isn’t.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Día de los Muertos

GIF not mine! 

Dwayne x Reader 

Word Count: 2,810

Summary: Now that Halloween is over, it’s time for Day of the Dead. Dwayne celebrates with the reader and their family. In honor of the brown, mostly likely Latinx, people of Santa Carla as shown in the opening title sequence. 

It was a cool California night, the air carrying just a hint of ocean salt.

You had split from the other boys earlier to enjoy some time alone together, something that could be hard to come by given how close the four of them were. Once the two of you had slipped away, Dwayne brought you to a section of the beach that had trees, an area where soil converted to, and mixed with, sand.

Gracefully scaling the tree, Dwayne bent down, extending his hands so you he could pull you up. He settled back against the tree trunk and seated you in his lap, facing him with his hands resting on your bottom.

At this point in the fall there weren’t many beach goers who came out after dark. The temperatures were too cold for the locals and the tourist season was winding down.

Dwayne and you were the type to not mind sitting together in comfortable silence. You were a little drowsy this late into the night so you snuggled into his chest and rested your eyes for a bit. You could feel Dwayne stroking your hair which turned your muscles to liquid. The moment was so peaceful, it was hard to tell whether twenty minutes or twenty hours had passed.

“Love you,” he murmured quietly.

Those three words had you suddenly wide awake and you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“I love you, too.”

You couldn’t stop the big smile from lighting up your face. It’s not that you didn’t know that he loved you; after all, you two had been a long-term item. He showed it every day through his gentle touches and supportive actions. It’s just that he didn’t often convey it with words. When he did it made you extra giddy.

And on that particular night, it gave you the courage to bring up something you had been meaning to ask him. “Hey Dwayne?”

“Yeah?”

You scooted backwards so you could talk to him properly. “Do you want to do Día de los Muertos with me this year? I mean, don’t feel obligated. The whole family will be there, and it’s right after Halloween but—”

He silenced your rambling with a kiss. “Of course. Besides, I love your parent. Your brother on the other hand…”

You wrapped him in your arms and squeezed tight.

“Don’t worry,” you grinned. “I’ll protect you.”

Dwayne snorted. As an immortal creature of the night, he could handle himself just fine. In fact, you were the one the needed protecting more often than not seeing as how you were the fleshy, fragile human.

So he was more than capable of physically handling your brother. It’s just that your brother was really hard on anyone who dated any of his younger siblings and he had had his fair share of arguments with your boyfriend. In his eyes no one was good enough for any of you. But you doubted that he’d be stupid enough to start something during a holiday celebration lest he risk facing your mom’s wrath.

Dwayne planned to meet you and the family at the graveyard off of 2nd Street first to help with the duties there before continuing the festivities at the house.

Speaking of home, you must have fell asleep because the next thing you knew, Dwayne was silently creeping up the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He tucked you in and the last thing you remembered in your mostly unconscious state was him kissing you goodnight. Then he disappeared and you drifted off to sleep

 _______________

Dwayne rolled into the cemetery a little before nine o’clock, like you guys had agreed, looking a little more modest for the occasion. Well, modest for him. His dark hair was still loose and wild, his ivory earring present. Black Chuck Taylors covered his feet and his jeans were ripped at the knees. But he was wearing a clean white shirt and he had switched his normal jaguar jacket for a solid leather one.

“Mijo!” your mom cried when she saw him. She enveloped him in a tight hug and the size difference between the two of them was as comical as it always was. Parting with a couple hard pats against his back, she yelled at everyone to come say hello to your boyfriend.

Dwayne knew your dad and siblings and was introduced to the extended family as they lined up to greet him. Your mom acted as the middle person.

“This is my mother… these are my sisters and their families… my brother, his wife, and their kids… my uncle and his daughter, my cousin and his wife…”

Dwayne shook all of the hands and accepted their hugs like a champ. At this point in the relationship he was no longer awkward with all the hugging, but he was good at remembering names which had always impressed your family given how many of you there were.

Finally, you interjected on his behalf so you could have time with him. You shooed them way and they went back to their assigned jobs.

“Y/N,” your mom directed. “Show Dwayne what to do.”

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me,” you joked.

“Perfect,” he said draping his arm around your shoulders.

You took him to the two graves that you were in charge of. All the graves that belonged to your family were split up and assigned to the living members. Your mom’s side had been in Santa Carla for four generations, meaning there were plenty of graves to clean up.

Your dad was the first in his family to live in Satna Carla so there wasn’t any work to do for that side.

You had been given your great-grandparents on that Día de los Muertos, so that’s where you and Dwayne headed. Luckily, those graves were a little further apart from the others which gave you more privacy with him.

You explained to him every year your family descended upon the graveyard to pay respect and spruce up the family graves.

“Not that the groundskeepers don’t do a good job, but it’s tradition that we clean up their graves on Day of the Dead to show that we still care for them.

Dwayne took the rake to remove some of the dead foliage and you wiped down the headstones with a rag and bucket. The water turned a murky brown color when you rung the rag out, which wasn’t pleasant, but you were satisfied that the grime was coming out.

You finished by placing a bouquet in front of both graves, barely-there-wisps of smoke from small candles curling upwards into the night air.

“How come we’re not doing the alters here at the cemetery?” Dwayne asked.

You looked at him, surprised that he caught that.

“I’ve seen it done before, you know. Just never done it myself is all,” he said defensively.

“Careful. Your inner old man is peaking out,” you teased.

He suddenly tackled you to the ground, extremely careful not to injure you or disturb anything in the vicinity. You were very aware of the way his toned body pressed into yours. He raised one of his eyebrows. Definitely not an old man, you gulped.

“Um, the alter thing. We call them ofrendas. We stopped doing it out here a while back because people complained.”

He looked at you, asking you without words to elaborate.

“The fact that a bunch of Latinos were hanging out in a cemetery, after dark, to essentially throw a party rubbed other people in town the wrong way.”

You rolled your head to the side to glance at the other tombstones from your position under Dwayne. “Now we just come here to clean up.  The fun stuff still happens though, we just do it at the house instead.”

“Bigots,” he grumbled. “I can take care of anyone who complains, you know? It’ll be a win-win for you and for me.”

He sat up and pulled you with so that you were upright too. You laughed at his proposal knowing that his proposal was entirely serious. Dwayne was such a protective boy.

“Thanks, amor, but that would require killing more people than you think. I promise we’re doing just fine this way.”

He huffed but let it go. You both looked at the graves you had finished with, satisfied that you had done a good job. The ancestors should be pleased.

“Come on,” you prompted, “Let’s go see if anyone else needs help.”

The efforts of the gathered small army, aka the family, meant that the work was finished quickly and it was soon time to take the party elsewhere. You told your parents that you were riding with Dwayne, which your brother overheard and didn’t like.

Dwayne gave him his most intimidating stare and you prepared to go on the defensive, but he didn’t get in one whole sentence before your mom there, slapping the back of his head. “Ay mijo,” she chastised.

She gave you a quick blessing and sent you on your way. You stuck your tongue out at your brother for good measure then climbed onto Dwayne’s bike. He patted your thigh twice in quick succession before squealing off a little louder than normal and you knew exactly who that was for.

Dwayne was an excellent driver and you were perfectly safe with him, however, that didn’t mean he drove slowly. He easily beat back everyone else in your family. You decided to start getting thing ready, knowing that you would be judged for sitting around when there was stuff to be do.

The pan was already done, having been baked earlier that day so you only had to arrange them on a platter. Dwayne helped fill coolers with ice and then added beer and pop. That’s all that there was time to do before the others started trickling in, which you took as your cue to hand the reigns over to the more qualified adults.

Excited to show Dwayne the ofrenda set-up in the living room, you noticed that he wasn’t in the kitchen where you left him. After a short search, you found him in the backyard sipping beer with your dad and some of the tíos.

You tried your best to sneak up on him, tickling him on his sides. You pouted when he wasn’t even phased and merely placed his hands on top of yours. His vampire scenes tended to see your surprises coming from a mile away, but still you never gave up trying.

“Come on, let’s go look at the ofrenda.”

Slipping back inside the house, one of your tías immediately pushed food into Dwayne’s hands as he passed by. He accepted it with the same politeness that had won your parents over when you first started dating. He took a small bite while you led him to the living room and hummed in delight.

“This is good.”

The ofrenda was impossible to miss once you entered the room. A large table covered in a yellow table cloth was set up against a wall, a large assortment of marigold blooms, candles, food, and other decorations spread out all around. In the middle, wooden racks where stacked up on one another and contained framed photographs of deceased family members.

Directly behind the table hung colorful paper cutouts, or papel picados, on cords which were tapped on the wall. Near by wall shelves were also filled with candles and some painted skulls.

“I see beer,” Dwayne said, pointing to the unopened glass bottles that were present in the display.

“You would point out that part.”

Bringing him closer to the ofrenda, you explained what was what. “The beer and the food are for the dead to enjoy since their spirits are here with us tonight.”

Dwayne nodded, intrigued. “This kind of marigold is called cempasúchil. It’s a traditional flower we use for Día de Muertos because it’s bright and will attract spirits. The candles and skulls are also common.”

One of the skulls in particular caught his attention and he carefully picked it up and turned it over in his hand. He smiled. “You painted this one.”

Your face felt like it was burning. That was your skull.

“I can tell,” he continued. “The yellow polka dots and purple flowers gave you away.”

Those were indeed your go-to designs and colors when drawing. And even though his keen observation skills shouldn’t surprise you anymore, you were still amazed at how he picked yours out without hesitation.

Clearing your throat to get yourself back on track, you point to a grainy black and white photo. “These are my maternal great-grandparents sitting with some of their kids. They’re the ones whose grave we did.”

“Actually, I think I knew them.”

Your mouth dropped. It was only after a minute that his lip started to twitch and you figured out he was playing with you. His ability to hold a straight face was maddening at times.

“Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I know everyone from here,” he reminded you.

“Point taken. But you really did meet my grandpa back in the day.”

When Dwayne had first been invited to family dinner back when you had first started dating, it was hard for him not to look at all of the family pictures hanging on the walls. Later on, when you were outside hugging him good-bye he dropped that bomb on you.

He had noticed a picture of your grandpa and recognized him because he had worked on Dwayne’s motorcycle twice during the 1920s. You were incredulous. Your grandpa had recently died so it was surreal to hear that your boyfriend had not only met him, but met him before you were born.

Dwayne doubted your grandpa would have identified him had he still been alive since their interaction had been so brief.

Dwayne only remembered him because he was one of the few mechanics that took appointments after dark and he was pretty accepting, something that hadn’t always been true for the tan vampire at all points in the past.

Certain periods were worse than others, so when he did open up and speak about his memories you tried to be empathetic.

“I’m glad he was good to you,” you said in the present. You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

You went through the other relatives, introducing them to Dwayne photo by photo, sharing stories about them that had been shared with your over the years. He held you in his arms, content to listen to everything you were telling him.

Eventually you wandered to the couch to sit down. Everything was so lively and joyful.

Other conversations carried on around you as your family laughed and reminisced. An aging radio that sat in the kitchen played tunes in Spanish, unseen but heard. The younger kids would periodically run by, shouting and chasing each other.

Time passed quickly as it tended to do during parties and soon enough Dwayne was trying to leave as the festivities wound down. Trying being the operative word. He had been held up at the front door for nearly fifteen minutes while still there everyone said their good-byes.

“Here you go, Dwayne.” Your mom shoved a bag into his arms that was filled with several containers of tamales, rice, and sweets. “Give some to your friends, too. Boys need a lot of food and you all looked skinny when I saw them last time.”

He face betrayed nothing but there was a shine in his eyes that let you know he found the familiar ‘food’ spiel entertaining.

“Alright, I’m walking him to his bike,” you said with finality. You slammed the door shut, cutting off the voices behind you. “Sorry about them.”

“I’ve told you many times that I like them. Don’t be embarrassed. They remind me of… my family.”

He didn’t have to specify which family he meant. You could tell that he was referring to his human one. As rare as talking about past memories was, talking about memories of his family was even more rare.

“So, don’t apologize for them. Please.”

He opened his arms and you walked into them. He placed his hand on the back of your head and, trying to be sneaky about it, you put your hand into one his jacket pockets. You weren’t sure if he honestly didn’t feel it, or if he was letting you have your moment, but he didn’t stop you.

When he arrived back at the cave after leaving you with sweet parting kisses, he remained seated on his bike and pulled out your gift. A small black skull and some marigold blooms. He unfolded the note and read it to himself.

For the ones you’ve lost.

He turned the skull painted with red and yellow designs over in his hands and smiled.

_______________

Thanks for checking this out. I hope it was a good read! I also realized I may have outed myself by calling it pop instead of soda, but oh well.

[riofann]

A Different Path Part 2

Part 1

It takes a few times hanging out together before you have the courage to make the first move. A lot of coaching from Carol of course. Those “loving” looks that Carol mentions you think you caught a few of them . He was charming to say the least, times spent at the bar as a group he had all the waitresses and some waiters blushing. 

“What are you doing friday night?” you were both at Carol’s once again hanging out

He smiles at you and rubs his chin “Nothing why whats up?”

“Wanna meet at the Empty Bottle and grab a drink around 7, this Saturday?” You can’t help but to blush his gaze was intimidating to say the least 

“Sure” 

“Cool see you then!” and with that you walk away and blow out the air you’ve been holding in, but you can feel his gaze still upon you. 

You spent the majority of the week going over what to wear and when Saturday finally came you decided on something semi casual, dark jeans and a cute dressy top accompanied with a long cardigan just in case you get cold. 

You arrive first and have a seat by the bar where he could see you. 10 minutes pass and you think it could be traffic, it was the weekend after all, but by 30 minutes that sinking feeling seeps in. You contemplate texting him, maybe calling, but you didn’t have his number, plus even if you did wouldn’t that seem desperate? You've been out of the dating game for so long you don't know what the new social norms are. You finish the rest of your drink and by now an hour has passed. Gathering what's left of your pride you pay for the drink and leave. 

You send Carol a text as you walk to the nearest L station

You: well that was interesting 

Carol: wow you guys finished so soon

You: no 

You: i got stood up

Carol: what??? 

Before you can respond she’s calling you 

“Hey!” you say trying to sound cheerful

“What happened?” 

“Uhh i got stood up” you repeat yourself 

“He didn't show up?!” 

“Yea Carol that’s the definition of stood up” you state the obvious 

“Did he call or text?”

“No it's not like we exchanged numbers anyway so...” 

“Maybe something is wrong” she tries to defend his case 

“Or maybe he didn’t want to see me and I made a stupid bold move”  you feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment 

“I really don’t think that’s it Rio is very blunt I'm sure he wouldn't do something like that” she counters 

“Well here I am Carolann getting on the red line to go home” 

She sighed 

“My phones gonna cut off I’ll just text you okay?”

“Okay”  

You opt  to not text her when you get home because even though she meant well the sting of him flaking on you and having to discuss it was too much 

You decide maybe a movie and fat snacks will help lighten your mood and also keep you from overthinking the situation. During the movie you felt your phone vibrate indicating a call and when you flipped it over to see an unknown number

You don't know who it is so you hit ignore, you never picked up unknown calls, something you learned from Preston, your phone vibrates again and like before the number flashes on the screen and you do the same as before but this time putting your phone on mute. You think nothing of it and chuck the night as a failed attempt to “get back out there” 

Because you know he is a frequent face at Carol’s you avoid them all together. Carol does invite you over but you just decided to not go, you didn’t want him there existing rubbing your face in it. 

~~~~~The next time you see Rio is at the Whole Foods with his son Marcus. 

You turn down the aisle that has baking ingredients and you don’t see him at first because you were both at opposite ends but you do hear him 

“Which one do you want? What do you think your classmates will like?” 

“Chocolate!” you hear Marcus respond, he was a cute little boy you think to yourself, 

“Okay what icing?” 

You feel stuck, you can't go forward nor can you move back because there is someone right behind you so you try to turn your body to face the oils section, which is right near the cake and cupcake pans, you move methodologically as slow as possible. 

“Chocolate!” 

Because he is so caught up in the cake mixes he doesn't see you, your plan was working 

“Excuse me”  the lady behind you says causing Rio to look up 

You quickly move out of the way and squat down to avoid him seeing you 

However his attention is now on the cake cupcake molds and there's no avoiding it, him, plus this was silly you think to yourself, if you tried to avoid him, he would know.  So you take a deep sigh and stand up 

“Hi!” you greet 

He looks up at you and smiles “oh hey! I didn't see you there!” 

Yea kind of the point you think to yourself “Yea” you put whatever it is that you picked up, which you had planned to tell them you changed your mind at checkout,  and continue to awkwardly look at whatever's in front of you. You can feel him staring at you, you hated it, you turn to face him once again “Well it was nice seeing you i gotta run” 

“Sure...sure...” you go to walk away when you hear him speak  “Actually i have a question”

“Okay” 

“My bad, this is Marcus my son, Marcus this is Miss. Y/N” he smiles as he looks between you two

“Hi!”  you wave at him “It’s nice to meet you Marcus!”

“Nice to meet you too Miss. Y/N” 

He turns to face you “My kid’s classmates are having a bake off and” he chuckles I don't know do you think they would like chocolate?”  

“Every kid likes chocolate but you can try something different!” you suggest as you motion towards the cake mixes 

“Like what?” he asks as he follows your lead 

“Uh”  you look at the cake mixes like  “butter pecan! (you pick up the box) or uh oooh strawberry with cream cheese icing (you reach for the icing) I guarantee they’ll like it ,I'm sure there will be enough chocolate to go around!”  

He takes the items from you and even though you are talking about a bake off it seems like he is focused on you or maybe what's on your face you feel very self conscious now, that man could win a staring contest, a lazy smile appears on his face “thanks”

You smile back instinctively “Yea yea! any time, do you need anything else?”

“Nah think I’m good” 

“Okay! Well I’ll see you around!” 

Once again you retreat back into your hole in the wall and avoid going to Carol’s. Although Rio had told her he ran into you and she called you soon after wanting to know how that interaction went and all you had to say was whatever he said is what happened because you didn't want to jump to conclusions. 

~~~~~~~You take a deep breath as you look at Carol’s front door. Today was her birthday party and although William had tried to convince her to throw a big bash at a venue she insisted on being at her home around friends and family. Luckily for you, there’s a lot of people there. So blending into the crowd isn’t a hard thing to do. There was loud music accompanied with loud chatter and laughter! You place your gift at the makeshift gift table and glide along through the mini crowd. You find your way towards the bar. 

“HEEEY Y/Ns HERE!” William greets you leaning in for a hug 

You cringe you didn’t want him to be loud you could feel Rio lurking somewhere in the corner “Hey Will!” 

“What can I get you?” “Uh got wine?” “Plenty! Red or white? “White!” 

“Here you go! Carol’s somewhere if you follow the loud laughter I’m sure you’ll find her!”

“Okay great thanks!” 

“Yea! Enjoy your time! We have caterers they are setting up! Plenty of food, drinks, snacks! Make yourself at home!”

You take a deep breath and smile. All you needed to do was say ‘Hi’ to Carolann wish her a happy birthday and leave

You didn’t do well in crowds like this, your social anxiety disorder is not helping, you continue to practice your deep breathing and push your way through some spaces, when you finally catch up with Carolann. You tap her lightly on the shoulder which causes her to whip around! 

“OH Y/N, Thank you for coming!” 

“Yea you’re welcome Happy Birthday!” you give her a loving hug 

“Oh 50 years young can’t you tell?” she jokes 

“You’re aging gracefully” 

“Come have a seat!”

“Oh no” you feel yourself getting really anxious all eyes were on you two now 

“No come, come! I was just telling them about that time in Antigua and the octopus. Oh God!” she looks up shaking her head   “You know that story I told you”

“Yea” 

“She was definitely drunk”

Eventually the crowd dissipates  down and it’s just you and her

“So how are you? Been avoiding us?!! Hmm?” You hang your head low before answering “You know why”

“He’s barely been around plus i talked to him!”

“You what?!” “I talked to him!”

“Oh my god!” 

“What? He needed to know what he did was wrong”

“Carolann! I don’t need you to do that for me!”

“Well I had to speak up Y/N”

You shake your head in disbelief

“That same night I gave him a talking to and he asked for your number to make it up.” 

“Ohhh” you remember that strange number calling 

“He’s here you know” she says looking around

You prayed that she wouldn’t spot him “I know” 

“He’s been asking about you too” 

You cut your eyes at her “no he hasn’t” “Believe what you want,” she shrugs “but everytime he stops by your name leaves his mouth” “Thats bullsh....” before you can finish you’re interrupted 

“CAROLANN AS I LIVE AND BREATH!!!”

“OH MY GOD!! SHANNON LOOK AT YOU!!” She jumps to her feet

This gives you the perfect excuse to leave. You had accomplished what you needed to, learned some new unnecessary information that you would have been perfectly fine without, you drank your drink, time to go home. You excuse yourself and place the glass in the kitchen and make your way towards the door. 

You're just at the door when you feel someone grab at your arm lightly, causing you to whip around it was Rio 

“OH Heyyy!” 

“Hey leaving so soon?” “Uh yea i have things to do” 

He looks at you judgingly “Like what?” 

“Like work stuff” 

Narrowing his eyes he speaks “Right right... but you just got here! not too long ago”

“Uh yea i just wanted to say happy birthday in person” 

He smiles and looks back at the crowd before looking at you “you got time to talk?” he asks as he closes the door behind him

“Yea!” Your stomach feels like it's doing flips 

“So about the other drink date”

“It’s okay no need to explain, I’m sure you got busy” 

“Nah i kinda need to tho’” 

“Okay”

“I got caught up, we should have probably exchanged numbers, I didn’t mean to, I was actually looking forward to it”

“You were??”

He chuckles at your facial expression “Yea! Why wouldn’t I be?” You feel yourself blush “umm...” 

“Anyway i called you and you didn't pick up”

“Does your number begin with 540?”

“Yea” 

“Sorry i don't pick up unknown numbers”

“Cool” he pulls out his cellphone “I just texted you so now you can save it” You feel your phone vibrate “thanks!” 

“So uh how bout another date?”

“Same place?”

He shrugs “I don’t mind, sure, get to explore Chicago more, What day?”

“Friday?” “I can make that work, same time?”

“Yea, works for me” 

“See you then?” He puts his hand on your shoulder

“Sure!” 

He smiles “see you later mama”  before he goes back inside 

[tooyoungtoknowtheyhaditall]

Two Ghosts

Chapter 1

Harry had been dreaming of freedom and fearless days when he heard Louis phone ring from their nightstand when Louis got up to answer it, a frown stretched onto Harry's lips, but Louis pecked his forehead, a silent promise that he would be back when the call ended. With that, Harry fell back to sleep.

He dreamt of going on fancy dates in town instead of takeout. He dreamt of phones on silent and movies uninterrupted.

He also dreamt of what he regretted. He dreamt of Louis living happy and free with out him. He dreamt of his father. He dreamt of his existence.

He dreamt of the day he met the man with the feathery brown hair. He dreamt of the red skinny jeans and the toms he was wearing. He dreamt of the pep in his step and the light in his smile.

He regrets hurting the man he loves so much.

*********************

"Harry we have to go!" Louis yelled up the flight of stairs.

"What?" Harry said walking unsteadily–having just woken up– to the top of the stairs so he could see Louis.

"They're here." Louis said, face white as a sheet and Harry's face drained of color shortly after.

"Oh fuck!" Harry said running back to their room only to return with the car keys. "Let's go" He said, passing Louis and going to the basement door with Louis on his trail.

"I guess we shouldn't be surprised, it's been a long time coming." Louis said while fumbling with the dead bolt, locking the basement from the inside.

"I guess you're right, I just thought we were almost out of the woods." Harry said sadly.

"Haz, you and I know better than anyone that you can't get away from that kind of stuff." Harry nodded his head in agreement as he hopped in the black Range Rover. He opened the garage door once Louis was in. He started the engine and slowly rolled into what looks like a parking garage that slowly inclined. Once they were fully in he closed the door behind them.

"Where are we headed?" Harry asked once he had a moment to slow down his thoughts. Louis hands him a map and written directions. Once he took a quick look at it, Harry started to roll into the dark tunnel, illuminated only by their headlights.

"Niall and Liam stocked it up with about a years worth." Louis said with a humorless chuckle. "Must be really serious." Harry finally pulled up to yet another door, but when he opened it, it wasn't another tunnel, but daylight. They were about four blocks from their house in an ally. "Make a left Babe."

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked, breaking the silence that had settled in to the car only a few minutes before.

"Getting to love you for the rest of my life? Not in a million years would I have chosen any different." Louis said confidence strong in his tone. "Do you?" He said, though much less confidently.

"I regret not letting you live your life, but I could never regret loving you." Harry said with a faint smile.

"I wouldn't be living my life if I wasn't with you." Louis said, sad that the love of his life thought this way. "I've always wanted to be criminal." He said trying to lift the mood before pulling Harry into a kiss as they arrived at a red light.

Even though it was merely 3 in the morning, there was still plenty of traffic. Given the circumstances, they were very grateful for that.

"I love you Boo." Harry said without really knowing what was compelling him.

"I love you more."

Chapter 2

They cut the headlights, left with only the dim glow of their dirty fog lights, as the pavement turned to a dirt road at the edge of the woods. As they drove through the forest, they could see next to nothing.

"This is nerve-racking." Harry said with a nervous chuckle.

"Just keep your eyes on the road."

"If I could look at you I'd roll my eyes." Harry said trying to hold back a smile.

"Fuck!" Harry half shouts.

"What's going on?" Louis asked confused.

"I can hear sirens, and we're nearing the canopy of trees so we won't even have moonlight. I would go really slow but they're on our tail." He said nervous and exasperated.

"Fuck is right."

Harry took a deep breath before driving into the total darkness. They had driven only a minute in–still going about thirty miles an hour–before Harry started to get a bad gut feeling, but the sirens getting closer by the second were enough to keep them going, if not a bit faster.

"Lou, I don't like this one bit." He said biting his lip nervously.

"At least there's barriers in the canopied part?" Louis says more as a question than an assurance.

"So there can be the tiniest bit of reflection if I get really, really close?" Harry said agitated. "Sorry love, I'm not mad at you, just worried." He spoke softly before lifting Louis' hand that was previously rested on his thigh, pressing a kiss to it.

Harry sighed in relief, not because of Louis' words but because he could see the end of the canopy only a few hundred feet away. Seeing as it was a straight shot, he subconsciously went faster. They were only 10 feet from the light when–

"DEER!" Louis screamed as about 5 deer ran out right in front of them.

As he slammed on the break the car only slid, so he tried to swerve, but on the dirt rode, he lost control of the car. They spun twice before going off the rode and smashing into a tree. Harry had smashed his head on the steering wheel, earning him a bloody nose, but nothing more. He looked over at Louis who had sustained more injuries and was only half conscious. Harry briefly wondered why the air bags hadn't worked before reaching over to Louis.

"Lou. Lou. Louis." He persisted finally getting a response. "Stay with me Babe."

"What the hell happened?" Louis asked still dazed.

"Car wreck, Honey." He spoke calmly. "I'll tell you more when we get there but right now we've got to run. You have to promise to stay awake though, love, you hit your head really hard." Louis just nodded. "We're gonna get out, and then you're gonna hop on my back and I'm going to run away from the road, okay?" Louis was slowly starting to come back.

"Okay Haz, are you sure you're okay?" He questioned with a pained look on his face.

"Completely. Now let's go."

Chapter 3

Harry opened his car door first glad that it wasn't too damaged to open. He walked around to Louis' side getting him out of the car and as he did, he saw an open wound on the back of his head. He assumed it was from hitting his head on the window, meaning he hit his head harder than initially thought. He put him on his back like he was giving a piggy back ride.

"Boobear, you're gonna have to stay awake, you're definitely concussed. Can you sing to me while we walk so I know you're awake?" Louis just nodded and started singing what he knew was Harry's favorite song, Copy of a Copy of a Copy.

"It's an old curse, dreamers diving head first, broken beaks and dead birds." Louis sung, his voice angelic even in this state.

"Can't get through the glass." Harry joined in.

Louis hummed and sung songs that he knew Harry loved as they walked deeper into the woods. The more he walked the worse Harry began to feel. His head slowly started pounding and he felt dizzy. He just felt so weak. He needed to lay down. Luckily, they were a good 20 minute walk from the road and Harry had found a small trench to hide in. He just prayed that they didn't see the car.

"Lou baby, we're gonna lay down here okay?" He asked, his timing perfect as Louis was about to doze off. Louis nodded in response. "You must stay awake, it's really important. I'll stay awake with you okay?"

"Okay Haz, I love you so much, and I can feel you blaming yourself. Stop it." Harry was shocked to hear this from Louis in such a state to say the least.

"I love you more." He said, placing a kiss to Louis' forehead, nose, and then lips. Louis snuggled back against him and Harry put an arm around thee smaller boy to keep him warm. "What do you dream about?" Harry asked before getting to process the question leaving his lips, but his mind was too fuzzy to care.

"I dream of living a life with you." He was going to continue when he realized that Harry's breathing had evened out and that was enough to make Louis forget his promise. Harry had forgotten his. "I love you most Hazza." He whispered before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Two lovers lying under the moon.

Chapter 4

"Harry. Harry. Haz. Wake up." Harry opened his eyes to see Louis' blue ones. It took Harry a moment to remember the events of the previous night, but once he did he panicked.

"Shit, Lou, we have to go! If they haven't found us already, they're looking! Fuck! I fell asleep, I'm so sorry! Do we still have the map? I don't ev–"

"Calm down babe. I'm fine, you're fine, I have the map. We aren't far from the cabin. I can hear them from afar so we've got to be quick."  Louis said, back to his usual put-together self.

"You had to stay awake all night on your own?" Harry asked, still stuck on that tidbit.

"No, you clocked out as soon as your head hit the ground, and I, well I followed soon after." Louis confessed with an almost apologetic expression. 

"I'm sorry Lou, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'm glad you're alright though." He said with a soft smile.

"I actually feel a lot better after some sleep. How do you feel?" Once he mentioned it Harry realized that he too feels much better. The power of sleep.

"Yeah I actually feel much better, I guess we were both just in shock." Harry said, finally calming down. "I'm so fucking glad you're okay." He said again, pulling Louis into a hug on top of him.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, alright," Louis said, rolling his eyes but unable to hold back a love drunk smile. "Save it though, we've gotta get going." Harry nods and they both get up and brush themselves off before Louis takes the lead, heading north. "I hope you know you're the only one I'd do this for."

"I know, I wish you didn't feel you had to." Harry replied, eyes on the ground. Louis stopped and grabbed Harry’s wrist turning him toward him.

"I don't. I do it because you complete me, and no Harry I don't love this," he said, vaguely gesticulating to the woods which Harry assumed was in reference to their current situation. "But I do love you. More than anything." Louis rant was interrupted when they heard voices far behind them and they both took off running. With the adrenaline rushing through them, they moved swiftly through the woods, losing the cops.

After ten minutes of running, they saw the peak of a cabin roof. What to most people would look like a decaying abandoned cabin looked like a glowing safe haven to the couple on the run.

"Looks like we made it!" Louis said with a smile nearly breaking his face.

"Always underestimated." Harry sing-songed back at him, laughing.

"Oh shut up! Can I not say song lyrics around you anymore?" Louis laughed out.

"Nope!" Harry said, popping the p.

They walked up the stars of the porch only now realizing the size of the house. From the outside they could see two tiers of boarded up windows and didn't even know if there was a basement. Louis walked up to a sconce by the door, pulling out a ring of keys. Harry raised an eyebrow, but his unasked question was answered when Louis unlocked the door only to reveal another. And then three more.

"Wow." Harry remarked. "Liam and Niall are good."

"That they are Haz, that they are." Louis mumbled as he pushed open the last door. He went back and relocked all of the doors while Harry looked around the fully furnished house. He was completely dumbfounded.

"Let's go check this place out!" Harry exclaimed, practically glowing with excitement. "How is it that this abandoned house in the middle of the woods is nicer than our expensive apartment?" He said as he twirled around the large master bedroom.

"Have I told you I love you lately?" Louis asked. "Because right now you're pretty damn adorable." Harry didn't even get a chance to blush before Louis tackled in a bear hug, throwing them both onto the soft king mattress. 

"I love you so much Lou. There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with." Harry mumbled into the crook of Louis' neck. "How did we get here?"

"Well, it started when you seduced me from the back of a cop car." Louis said with an airy chuckle. Harry just grimaced at the memory.

"God I was shitty." He said with a painful look on his face.

"I was a shitty cop, you did what you had to do to not be locked up. Or, or dead." Louis shuddered at the thought of his lover dead. "I'm glad you sweet talked me from the back seat because quite honestly, my life needed some spice," he said trying to lift Harry’s mood. "You are like hot sauce baby." He said, barely succeeding at keeping a straight face. Harry rolled away from Louis, turning his back to him.

"Wow, I'm in love with an Idiot." He said laughing.

"A sexy-cliche-bad-cop idiot." Louis said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, we need to go explore the house." Harry said, mock seriousness in his voice.

"Alright, alright, later." Louis said, rolling off the bed. Harry just rolled his eyes.

To Be Continued...

[cpd5021]

Reckoning - Part Two

Part 2! Let me know what you guys think! Love it? Hate it? Let me know!

The first things Hailey noticed when she came too was that she was lying in a hospital bed, every inch of her ached, and someone was gently rubbing her hand. 

With every bit of strength she had, Hailey forced her eyes open, immediately squinting in the bright light of the hospital room. Even blinking hurt. Her breathes were slow and shallow, her throat felt dry and scratchy. Eventually her eyes adjusted and she was able to look around the room. Jay’s hand was covering hers, rubbing gentle circles on the back of her hand. His head resting beside their hands and his eyes were shut, causing her to smirk slightly at the sight. He looked about as rough as she felt and she wondered how long he had been siting there. Hell she wondered how long she had been laying here. 

Her back was stiff so she attempted to shift her weight a little to alleviate the discomfort. Immediately, pain coursed through her body and she inhaled sharply, causing even more pain in her side. She tried to control her breathing but she couldn’t contain the small sob that escaped her lips. Staring at the ceiling through tear filled eyes she felt Jay give her hand a gentle squeeze. When she looked down at him and saw the way he was looking at her, a tear rolled slowly down her cheek and her chin quivered. Hating herself for letting her emotions go unchecked, she diverted her eyes back to the ceiling. 

Jay, as part of their thing that worked, sat quietly beside her. He knew her well enough to know when he should just be silent and let her be and this was certainly one of those times. A few moments passed before Hailey was able to speak. 

“Did you guys get him?’ She asked in a hoarse voice. 

“Hell yeah we did. He’s gone Hails.” Jay confirmed. 

Hailey nodded slowly, processing the information. 

“I should have waited” She trailed off, her voice threatening to break again.

“You did what any one of us would have done.” He told her firmly, silently pleading with her to believe him. 

She nodded again and swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure why she felt so emotional, she had been through plenty worse. Or maybe it was simply the pain wreaking havoc on her body. 

Jay gave her hand another gentle squeeze. Hailey’s eyes met his, before glancing down at their hands. A sheepish grin formed on Jay’s face before he removed his hand. Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking like there was something he wanted to say, but when Hailey raised her eyebrows in a questioning look he simply diverted his gaze and the two fell into a somewhat awkward silence. 

A knock at the door cleared the air and a nurse walked into the room, giving a quick smile when she noticed Hailey was awake. Will followed the nurse in, holding a clipboard and sharing a look with Jay before he began to talk. 

“Hailey, good to see you’re awake. Gave everyone a little scare there.” 

Hailey gave a sheepish smirk in response, not fully trusting her voice yet. The look shared by Will and Jay did not go unnoticed by her and she knew that the “everyone” Will had mentioned was more in reference to his brother than anyone. 

“I have all your results back if you’re ready for a run down.” Will offered, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. 

“Sure.” She stated quietly, hating how her voice still shook. 

“Okay, well, our main concern was the head injury. A fall from that height and with that much force...” He trailed off briefly, eyes darting to Jay as he stiffened in the chair beside her. “Well, it doesn’t usually end well. But your CT came back clear, showing only a minor concussion.So that’s good news.”

Hailey nodded again, fighting to control her emotions.

“And aside from some small scrapes and bruises, the only real issue is your two broken ribs on the right side. We’ll keep those wrapped for now which should help with a little of the discomfort and I’ll write you something for the pain. I’d like to keep you overnight for observation if you’ll agree, otherwise I’d suggest you at least have someone stay with you tonight to keep an eye on you.” Will finished his statement, eyes shifting between Hailey and Jay. 

“I..um, I’m sure Rojas can..manage.” Hailey muttered. She absolutely did not want to stay here overnight. And if she was being honest with herself, she was wishing Jay could be the one to stay with her. 

“They caught another case right after we got that bastard, her and Kev are on a stakeout for the night.” Jay informed her. “I think you should stay here Hails.”

Hailey swallowed hard, this damn urge to cry over every little thing was making her angry. “I’ll be fine.” She stated through pursed lips. 

“Hailey,” Will began slowly, sensing her stubbornness. “You really shouldn’t be alone.”

Blinking furiously, Hailey glared up at the ceiling yet again. She hated this. All of it. 

“I can stay tonight if that works...on the couch..so you can be at home.” Jay almost mumbled his suggestion, looking embarrassed for even offering. 

Hailey kept her eyes glued to the ceiling but gave one small nod in agreement. 

“That’ll do.” Will said. “I’ll get the paperwork around and you’ll be free to go. Feel free to get dressed and I’ll be back in a minute.” And with that Will and the nurse left the room. 

Jay gave her a quick smile before standing up and grabbing a bag off the counter she hadn’t noticed before. “Rojas grabbed you some clothes before they got called away” He stated, setting the bag at the foot of her bed. 

Hailey smiled, thinking of her roomate and how good of a person she was. Now came the hard part, actually getting out of the bed and getting herself dressed. She slowly pulled her blanket to the side, revealing her bare legs that were covered in scrapes and bruises. Hailey, trying to move as carefully as possible, gently moved one leg to the edge of the bed, holding her breath the entire time. This was going to be impossible by herself. 

“Jay...could you..help me sit up?” Hailey asked sheepishly, embarrassed at having to ask for help.    

In an instant he was by her side. One hand held out for her to grab on too while the other gently rested on her back. Hailey inhaled slightly as she felt his rough hand meet her bare back, luckily it passed as a result of the pain and not whatever else it was she was feeling. Once she was standing, another awkward silence fell between the two of them. 

“I think...I can manage.” Hailey said, not even believing herself.

Jay nodded and turned to walk out of the room.

“Maybe just...” She started, causing him to pause. “Face the door. Just in case.”

Jay nodded again, cheeks slightly pink as he moved to stand facing the door.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to move at all but somehow she slipped the gown off of her shoulders. Unfortunately it fell faster than she could move and went straight to the floor, leaving her standing there in nothing but her black boy-shorts. Moving one arm to cover her bare chest, she slowly moved to face the bag on her bed. After what felt like an eternity, she managed to pull all of her clothes out of the bag. That alone took all of her effort and she was already exhausted. She stared down at the jeans with tears once again forming in her eyes. There’s no way she was going to be able to dress herself. 

“Jay...” Hailey basically whispered his name, unable to finish because her throat was thick with emotion. 

Without having to say another word, she felt Jay move behind her. With her back still to him she watched as he reached around, grabbing the grey bra from the pile of clothes and holding it up so she could slip her arms through. Hailey inhaled both in pain and slight pleasure as his fingers gently brushed her back while he clasped it. Next he grabbed the tshirt from the bed and gently helped her slide one arm in, before pulling it over her head and getting the other arm in. Hailey’s breathing was heavy at this point, not only was this extremely painful, but if she was being honest, she was enjoying his touch more than she should from her partner. Sensing her discomfort, Jay gave her a minute to catch her breath before he reached for the jeans.

“Hails,” his voice was low as he spoke. “This part will be easier if you face me..” 

Slowly she turned around, risking a glance at his eyes and feeling her heart skip a beat when she saw a new darkness to them. Jay knelt down before her and she gasped when his hand was on her thigh, signaling for her to lift her leg. once both legs were in, he stood and pulled the jeans up, both avoiding eye contact as he slid them all the way up around her waist. 

“I can get the buttons.” Hailey stated, realizing they had both stopped moving. “Thanks Jay.” She gave him a quick smile as she reached down to fasten the button. 

“Anytime.” He replied, returning her smile.

Will entered the room then with a knock. Jay stepped out to pull his truck around front and Hailey was glad for the spare minute to gather her thoughts. This was going to be a long night. 

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 3,480 Warnings: Major Warnings - Spoilers in Warnings Characters: Roman, Thomas, Patton Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Chill Hurt/Comfort

Chapter 26

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

   Roman exhaled with relief as he unloaded the textbooks he didn’t need into his locker at the end of the day. He still was so incredibly glad he only required the one textbook for his science homework due tomorrow. Short answer essay questions, because the teacher was the actual devil. He’d gotten back some of his homework today and it was lots of C’s, even though he tried to focus and do his best.

   He got back some homework he got help from Patton on with an A, at least, so he could possibly average out to a B instead of being a solid C student as usual. Not that he could ask Patton to help him again. He couldn’t bother them. He just had to… do better somehow. He managed a B on his own for one of the packets, so he could in theory.

   Roman closed his locker and hefted his bag off the floor, but jumped when he locked eyes with a guy leaning against the locker right in Roman’s face. Roman narrowed his eyes and looked the stranger up and down. He didn’t recognize him and had genuinely no idea why this guy was staring at him. Did they share a class? Roman had trouble remembering faces.

   “Can I… help you?” Roman inquired curiously.

   “What’s with the new look? Trying to pretend you’re interesting or something, now?” The guy sneered at him with a villainous grin.

   “That’s rich coming from a guy dressed up in a fancy peacoat,” Roman slid on his backpack and huffed at him, motioning to his coat. Was this even real life? This was so weird.

   “Hiding something?” He said, reaching out and plucking at Roman’s gloves. Roman twitched his hand back and scowled at him. He knew he’d regret wearing them at school, eventually. He thought they looked okay, certainly less obvious, with the leather jacket, and he didn’t wish to upset Thomas again by forgetting. Thomas reminded him multiple times to put them on that morning, and he couldn’t bring himself to take them off while he went to school as usual.

   “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Roman rolled his eyes and threw his head. He spun around to walk off. He wasn’t stuck in a class with this asshole and had no reason to continue to tolerate this passive-aggressive bullshit.

   “I know,” The guy called after him. Roman couldn’t stop himself from stiffening his shoulders while he strode off. “I know what you’re hiding,” He continued. Roman swung to look at him. His expression was completely impassive and his bright hazel eyes felt piercing as they locked gazes.

   “Whatever,” Roman said dismissively and turned back around to leave. There wasn’t anything that this guy could extort from Roman. He didn’t have cash, and most of his possessions weren’t fancy. If he pretended it didn’t matter, then hopefully it wouldn’t. It had worked before. This guy clearly had problems to seek out Roman just to fucking bother him, and Roman didn’t need to make himself a part of this stranger’s issues. Roman waved at him and headed out the building to walk home. The guy didn’t follow or call after him again, so hopefully, it worked.

   Today was long, PE continued to be a nightmare of glares, and he slept like shit last night because he was so busy feeling guilty about Thomas buying him clothes. He wished to lie down and space out to something on TV. If he got lucky he could pass out to it. His feet freaking hurt and that guy annoyed the shit out of him, so he’d need to relax or his anger would get out of control again. He had that damn appointment soon, and that fucked with his mood enough so he needed to try to keep his cool.

   His mood was not as bad as Virgil’s, though. Virgil stormed past him on the sidewalk, looking as pissed as a hydra that had one of its heads lopped off. He had some paper crumpled in his fists and was slouched over, his hood hiding his dark hair and doubtlessly a very dour expression. Roman sped his pace to keep up with Virgil but kept a berth of a few feet. He wasn’t sure if he should ask or let him deal with it alone. Roman would rather be left alone, personally, so just making sure Virgil didn’t punch anything should be helpful enough.

   Virgil grimaced as he fished his keys out of his jeans pocket and unlocked the front door. He stomped upstairs and slammed his bedroom door before Roman got halfway up. He ambled into his own bedroom and left the door open, in the event Virgil desired to vent or something, and dropped his backpack at his desk. Roman flopped down on the bed and exhaled tiredly. He kicked off his shoes with his toes and considered if he wanted to watch the TV downstairs or on his phone. It’s about all he had the mental capacity to do right now.

   Sitting there and thinking about doing things was more effort than he had. He was fucking tired, annoyed at that prick, worried about Virgil, and his feet which were fully healed were being bastards and aching for no good reason. Was it too much to ask to just stop existing for a while? Even twenty minutes? Roman needed a god damn break like he needed oxygen. Too drained for TV wasn’t exactly a new low, but still some grade-A bullshit. At least he didn’t have to be watching kids right now.

   “Hey, do you know what that was about?” Thomas asked, knocking on Roman’s open door. Roman leaned up and looked over to him.

   “No, no clue,” Roman shrugged and sighed.

   “He’s not answering his texts. Would you mind…?” Thomas trailed off and pointed to Virgil’s room from the doorway.

   “What?” Roman raised a haircut at him.

   “Translating for him?” Thomas finished somewhat awkwardly. “I mean... if he’s okay with it. I’m hoping he’ll respond in person,” He added sheepishly.

   “Um, no, I don’t mind,” Roman sat back up and got up from the bed. Thomas shifted a door over and knocked on it while Roman stared curiously at Thomas.

   “Virgil? I’m opening the door,” Thomas announced. Roman stepped up behind him while Thomas paused. He pushed it open and Virgil was sitting on the floor against the bed, with his arms wrapped around his bed and his makeup smudged. “I brought Roman to translate if that’s okay,” Thomas said. Roman finally got a chance to look into Virgil’s office. He had a surprising amount of things, but the room had a similar setup in that it had a full-sized bed, a dresser, a bookshelf, and a desk, other than the fact that he had a big bean bag in the corner. But there were plenty of little decorations, old toys, and other possessions littered about the area. He had posters up, some bands Roman didn’t recognize and a Donnie Darko poster, which is weird, because Roman was certain that movie was rated R. Virgil’s sheets were royal purple and he had a black throw and pillowcases on it. Virgil didn’t acknowledge Roman or Thomas and stared blankly ahead. “What happened? Are you okay?” Thomas asked, looking concerned and conflicted in the doorway.

   “School,” Roman said as Virgil signed sluggishly. Virgil sighed and leaning back against the bed, looking more exhausted than pissed now. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes slightly hollow.

   “Did something happen at school?” Thomas urged him to open up softly, holding on to the door frame. Virgil took up the crumpled paper and held it up. Thomas stepped in to take it and examined it. It looked to be an essay, but there was a big red zero on the top and a stamp for where the parent had to sign to prove they’d seen the grade. Roman flinched involuntarily seeing that, grimacing. Thomas skimmed the paper swiftly. “It’s okay if you got a bad grade, but I have to admit I don’t see what’s wrong about this essay. Did you go off-topic or something?” Thomas asked with a confused expression, flipping it over to the other side.

   “Oral presentation,” Roman translated for Virgil. Virgil grimaced, dropping his face into his knees and taking hold of his legs again, flopping his hoodie down.

   “What do you mean?” Thomas scratched his eyebrows, appearing to be reading the essay. “This looks fine to me,” He commented, flipping the pages back and straightening them out.

   “I think he means it was supposed to be an oral presentation, and the teacher failed him because he couldn’t present,” Roman suggested sourly and Virgil nodded slowly in confirmation. Thomas stiffened and his eyes widened right away.

   “What a complete and absolute bitch!” Thomas intoned acridly. “Don’t let Patton know I said bitch in presence of you,” He added quickly and ran his hand through his mane. “How dare they, honestly? This teacher is likely still at the school, right?” Roman backed up and nodded, not a fan of this angry energy Thomas was putting out. “Alright, come on, both of you. I’m not leaving either of you alone, but I’m not letting them get away with this,” Thomas hissed. “Get your shoes back on, Roman,” He said, but Roman was a little freaked out and couldn’t react. Virgil curled in on himself on the floor. Thomas inhaled and exhaled gently. “I’m sorry, boys. Please, let’s go. You don’t deserve this grade, Virgil. We need to set this right,” Thomas said much more evenly and Virgil and both let out a tense breath.

   Roman backed out of the doorway and shuffled into his bedroom to slide on his shoes. He didn’t want to walk anymore, but he also didn’t have it in him to contest Thomas. He looked intense, and that was extremely unnerving to Roman. It was usually safer and easier just to follow along, even if he didn’t understand why he had to go. It wasn’t as if he was going to hurt himself or whatever, he only wanted to take a nap and sulk. Though maybe Thomas could see something in Roman that he didn’t. He had to admit he was in a trash mood, and that could make Thomas nervous. Roman pulled himself up off the bed with a pained huff. He headed downstairs and waited for Thomas and Virgil. They came downstairs a few moments later and headed out.

   His feet hurt, so Roman limped every few steps on the way there. Thomas was a full-grown adult and Virgil had long spider legs, so their natural pace was quick compared to Roman’s limping gait and he had to be careful about not falling behind. Thomas was rushing and gripping the essay in his hands. Virgil had his hood up again and was holding himself as he followed behind Thomas. He looked sullen at best, grasping his hoodie with pale knuckles and staring morosely at the concrete below them as they walked.

   They reached the school swiftly due to their long legs and frustrated pace. Virgil led them over to the junior hall and to the teacher’s classroom silently, Roman tagging behind them nervously. Thomas fell on the open classroom door and entered with his shoulders high. Roman slid in to sit down and put out his feet, but Virgil hid behind Thomas and rubbed his arm restlessly.

   “Excuse me? Mr. Brennan. I’m Mr. Sanders, Virgil McNaught’s guardian?” Thomas got the teacher’s attention, standing firm in face of the desk.

   “All you had to do was to sign the paper, Mr. Sanders, you didn’t need to come in,” The teacher said, sounding very tired as he examined the failed essay in Thomas’s hand.

   “I’m here because you can’t give Virgil a zero for being unable to present vocally,” Thomas said coolly, dropping the paper on the teacher’s desk.

   “You’ll find I can. It is not my job to make shy children come out of their shells. He chose not to present,” Mr. Brennan responded, tapping the desk with his pen and looking annoyed.

   “He is not able to speak, and that is a very important distinction. Virgil still provided the presentation in a way he was capable of doing,” Thomas poked the essay on the desk and Virgil shrank back slightly.

   “I wasn’t made aware of a 504 plan for the student,” The teacher replied, sounding frustrated and rubbing his nose under his glasses.

   “Virgil shouldn’t need that for you to know that he can’t talk and thus can’t give an oral presentation,” Thomas insisted angrily, crossing his arms.

   “He does, technically,” Mr. Brennan’s tone sounded bored. Roman stared at him from across the room.

   “I don’t care about technicalities. This still violates the spirit of the ADA and we’re already actively working on getting a diagnosis,” Thomas shot bitterly, standing stiffly and possibly joining Roman in the glare from the slight hunch.

   “Listen, he’s not the first quiet kid I’ve ever seen. He’s got the look and everything,” The teacher motioned to Virgil and arched an eyebrow. Roman gritted his teeth, biting back an insult. “How do you know he’s not lying to you, too?” He demanded incredulously and jumped when Roman’s fist slammed down on the table. If he had ever given anyone a death glare, he was sure giving it to this asshole. Thomas glanced behind him at Roman. “Please control your entourage, Mr. Sanders, it’s after hours,” Mr. Brennan said warily and rubbed his head again.

   “Roman has every single right to be upset, just like I am! He cannot talk. And as it happens, that’s not your place to assume or judge. Boys, come on, we’re going to the main’s office,” Thomas growled slightly as he spoke with firm conviction. Virgil was completely curled into himself and breathing hard. Roman got up and stood between Virgil and Mr. Brennan without hesitating, staring him down.

   “Leave him alone,” Roman hissed menacingly to the teacher, balling up his fists.

   “Roman, that’s enough,” Thomas stopped Roman, putting his hand on his shoulder. He would have preferred to shrug it off, but it was grounding and Roman was barely containing himself as he bared his teeth at the schoolteacher. “An infringement of the ADA is a fire-able offense. The principal can do much worse than you,” Thomas added evenly, though his other hand was clenched tightly.

   “It’s not an invasion of the ADA without a diagnosis, Mr. Sanders,” He sighed with exasperation, flipping his hand out towards Virgil as he rested his head on one arm.

   “Once we have a diagnosis, that’s something completely trivial for my lawyer to handle,” Thomas stared him down, standing resolutely. Roman glanced back at Virgil and he didn’t seem to be doing any better. Roman shrugged Thomas off and walked behind him, squatting down to the floor to face Virgil. He fell on the ground with his knuckles and Virgil’s eyes shot up.

   ‘Hallway,’ Roman signed and Virgil nodded slowly, swallowing hard. His forehead was sweaty, and he looked kind of sick.

   “The school doesn’t have any money for you to sue for. This is a public school, we’re lucky we have running water,” The teacher sounded more fatigued than before, leaning heavily on his hand and scowling.

   “I don’t want money, I want fair treatment for my- for Virgil! I don’t need money, I need you not to treat children like liars! This bullshit is why kids are hurting so much and I’m not standing for it!” Thomas shot fiercely, only barely controlling his volume. Roman held his arm out and protected Virgil as he made his way to the hall. Thomas followed after them after he finished his tirade, holding the essay again.

   “I’m really sorry, Virgil. I’ll make sure this gets solved. Can you breathe?” Thomas asked much more softly, keeping a safe distance from Virgil. Roman stayed within a foot of him, entirely on edge but ready to throw down at any second if anyone even looked at Virgil funny. He’d gotten his ass beat for foster siblings before and he’d do it again in a heartbeat, and he couldn’t use but default to that when he was stressed and Virgil was panicking. Virgil nodded weakly and choked a bit, continuing to shake and grip himself too hard.

   “Let’s all take some deep breaths, okay? I could use it, too. I’m going to count on my hand and you two can follow my lead,” Thomas suggested, putting the essay under his arm and holding up four fingers and starting to breathe in, counting on his fingers. Roman followed suit with his fists gripped tightly. It took plenty of cycles, but the time for each slowly increased and Roman eventually calmed down a bit. Virgil had stopped shaking as well, though his bangs were still holding to his forehead and he looked completely drained, the dark circles under his eyes visible under the makeup.

   ‘Fuck that guy,’ Roman signed to Virgil with a half-smile on his face, but he couldn’t manage to suppress the grimace much. Virgil nodded bitterly and glanced at Thomas.

   “Let’s go to the administrative office. You two can wait on the court out front, just stay together and keep each other safe, all right?” Thomas requested, motioning with his head down out of the junior hall.

   “Way ahead of you,” Roman muttered darkly under his breath. Virgil stuck close to Roman in the hall instead of keeping his normal few feet of distance.

   Virgil dropped to the bench right outside of the front office with a fatigued exhale. Roman stood, not sure if Virgil needed his space on the bench and helpless against the tension in his body. Thomas marched in the administrative office and advanced directly into the principal’s office without waiting for the currently absent secretary to let him in. Roman tapped his fingers on his jacket as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight around on his feet from time to time.

   Virgil’s arm eventually reached out and yanked at Roman’s jacket, forcing him to sit and then scooting over, less than a foot between them. Roman exhaled painfully, his rib acting up. Maybe watching him twitch restlessly wasn’t helping Virgil. Roman uncrossed his arms and wrung his hands slowly instead. Virgil leaned forward on his legs and stared at the floor despondently.

   That motherfucker in the open peacoat with the brown and gold shirt passed in the hall and regarded Roman curiously. Roman glowered at him, doing his best to communicate not to fuck with him right now with his eyes. Roman barely contained his need to fight as it is. The guy paused and looked Roman up and down before he walked up, which meant this person didn’t get the picture. It felt like an invitation that Roman wanted to rip into shreds.

   “Acting out again?” He said smoothly, sliding his hands into his coat pockets. Again? This fucker. Roman didn’t know what he knew or how he knew, but he clenched his teeth and balled his fists against his thighs. “Oh, you don’t enjoy being-” Roman socked him right in the fucking face. He was standing over him and breathing hard before he was even aware of what he was doing. The person in the peacoat stumbled back and hissed in pain, holding his eye.

   “Good!” Roman shot loudly, raising his arms. “Get the fuck out of here before I come over there and finish the job,” Roman spat, cracking his knuckles stepping forward. The guy scampered off hurriedly and Roman growled and ran both his hands through his mane and scratched aggressively at his scalp. He held himself and started pacing.

   Virgil gripped his sleeve while he passed and yanked him down on the desk again, shooting him a furtive glance. Roman sighed and grasped his legs. The combination of jeans and gloves stopped him from feeling his nails pressing through the material and he groaned quietly in frustration, eyeballing the direction that prick head ran off in. He loved to chase that kid and go for round two. He longed to go fight him so much it buzzed in his muscles painfully.

   Roman reached up and scratched at his head once more. He was just as awful as his fucking dad. Roman held his head in his palms and leaned back against the wall, rubbing his face roughly in frustration. Virgil yanked at Roman’s sleeve and removed Roman’s hands from himself. Oh. Right. Roman nodded to Virgil in thanks. His skin felt raw from the leather gloves, but he probably didn’t hurt as much as that kid’s eye did. Roman squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at his jacket, trying to stop attacking himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

Personal Taglist: @bunny222 @elizabutgayer​ @prinxietyforever @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno @the-sympathetic-villain @croftersjam15 @ollyollyoxinfree @xytiiko

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[jj-lynn21]

Cozy Cove: Sneaking

@dragsraksllib @super-pink-a-palouza @loomiz @waywardtigersandwich @shkaboodle​ @theskarsgardcult @babyboy-cody @bskarsgardlove92​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass @shenevertricks1831 @hornyhetero @taintedglass  @grandpa-sweaters​ @bskarsgardlove92​, victoria-way-mendez   skarsgaard0   screechingexpertpruneneck                                                                  

Last time in Cozy Cove: Saved by an Angel , A side of tits with your pancakes ,Fires Burn Hot , spending the nights , Learning and Loving , The end is not always the end,   Axel Grease, Big Decisions, Sex and Jet Skis, Late night fun , Old Wounds , Storms pass, Dangerous Waters Nursing the patient , Making it Work , Never Have I Ever   , The Masquerade , The Proposal, Emotional Turmoil, Sneaking,, Best Man

warnings: smut, fluff,

“Axel you have to stay out here until I know if my roommate isn’t here.” Susie told him as she got out of the SUV. “I live in an all-girls dorm now and we are not allowed guests overnight.”

Axel chuckled. “So, I have to sneak in your window or something? I like the sound of that.”

“Just give me ten minutes and come around to the back door.” She was taking it way more seriously than he was taking it. “If my roommate is there maybe you will have to come through the window.”

He winked at her making her blush. She had not snuck a boy in her room since she was sixteen. She had to admit it was a little exciting.  As she walked inside several people asked her how she was feeling. Some thought she was with a guy they thought she hooked up with at the party. Others heard she was date raped. All were exaggerated stories she didn’t have to debunk at this time, so she just answered she was fine and ready to get back to studying.  

She had some good luck. Her roommate decided to go to class this evening which did not always happen. Susie snuck down the back stairs right by her door. When she got to the first floor from the fifth, she opened the heavy door slowly.

“Axel.” She called to him. He walked out of the dark making her jump. “Fuck.” She breathed heavily.

“Sorry, babe.” Axel chuckled.

She smirked. “Be quiet. Follow me upstairs. Five flights. My dorm room is right by the door.

He followed. By the time he was on the fifth floor they were both a little winded. “That was...”

“Shhhh.” Susie put her finger to his lips.  

Axel wanted badly to suck on that finger and other things as she ushered him inside quickly. As soon as the door was closed behind them Axel grabbed her face kissing her roughly as he walked her backwards hitting another door.  

“That is my roommate's bedroom.” she said as she pulled his belt off. “Other door.”

Axel picked her up and opened the door. “How long until she is back?”  He put her down on the bed before pulling his shirt off. He shut and locked the door.  

“Plenty of time if she goes out after class like she usually does when she attend this late class.” Susie pulled off her shirt. Then took her bra off as Axel got rid of his jeans and boxers. He grabbed a condom from his wallet. He put it on.

She undid her jeans. Axel pulled them off her. “If she doesn't go out?”

“Then I might be in trouble.” She opened her legs.

Axel’s face dove into her secret garden. He looked up with her arousal on his face. “Might be?”

She shoved his head back between her legs. “She owes me one.”  

He had her gripping at his hair, moaning softly when her roommate came back.

“I’m back.” Her roommate shook her head hearing here.  

“Okay,” Susie panted as Axel came up to kiss her. His cock slide in its favorite spot.  She moaned louder as their hips crashed into each other.  

“You have to tell me the type of vibrator you use tomorrow because I only moan like that from a man dicking me just right.”  

Axel grits his teeth trying not to make a sound. He buries his face in the Pillow sticking out on the side of her head so his groaning cannot be heard by anyone but Susie. “We fit so perfectly.”

“Yes.” She agreed on the verge of her climax.  

They were in bliss within a few more minutes. It was difficult to get comfortable on the extra-long twin bed, but they managed with Susie resting on Axel’s body. After a few minutes they got up to sneak into the bathroom to clean up. Luckily her roommate and the two girls that shared the bathroom on the other side did not wake.  

As morning rose Susie heard her roommate shuffling into the bathroom. “Axel.” She whispers tapping his cheek to wake him. “This is the best time”

“mmm ugg” He opened his green eyes to her stare. “What?”

She got up and threw on a night shirt. “Sara is in the bathroom. Get your clothes on. We sneak you out and you knock. I will answer acting surprised to see you.”

Axel has his pants on by the time she tells him what they are doing. “Good plan.”

Susie peaks out her bedroom door. She hears Sara singing in the shower. Axel stayed close behind as they went to the main door. He slipped out. He waited a few seconds before knocking at the door. It times perfectly with Sara getting out of the shower so she heard.  

“I got.” Susie yelled.  

Sara came out in a towel drying her long dark curly red hair. “Who is it?”

Susie opened the door. “Axel” She jumped into his arms.

Axel caught her pulling her legs around him walking in the room. “I missed you, Babygirl.” He kissed her lightly before she jumped off him.  

“I think she is happy to see you.” Sara laughed. “She is horny as hell. Hi, I’m Sara.”

“Nice to meet you, Sara.” His arm was around his girl and a big smile on his face.  

“I’ll be going out to meet Charlie so you two have fun.” She went to her bedroom.

“Let me show you my room.” Susie giggled.

Axel chuckled as he went in her room and sat on the bed edge. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the good news. Eric and Tami are getting married. I’m going to be the best man. They don’t have a date yet. I hope you can be there.”

“I will have to call her with a congratulate.” Susie changed putting on under garments, jeans, a t-shirt and sweatshirt as Axel watched with a little smirk on his face. “She is a very nice girl for your brother.”

“Yeah.”  

Susie gave him a tour of the college. They had tacos at the student union Taco Bell.

“This is great, Susie Q.” He smiled as he devoured his tacos. It is like a small city in the middle of a town.”  

“There is even a bar in the basement that opens at 5pm. The drinks are always watered down there.” Susie told him. “They serve the beer in pitches so they can water that down too I think. The good bars are off campus, but I don’t think I will be doing that again.”

“I don’t blame you, Babe.” They walked hand-in-hand back towards her dorm. “I rather you not put yourself in danger like that. I was fucking freaking out when that guy was trying to get you inside.”

“The police are supposed to question him.” She sighed. “I don’t think it will do any good. His family are big donators. The auditorium over there.” She pointed. “They helped finance it is what I was told.”

“I wish I could stay here to protect you.” Axel frowned. “But my flight leaves in a few hours. I might make it back to check in at the garage before it closes.”

“I’ll be more careful.” Susie put her arms around him leaning against the rented SUV. “text me when you land.”

Axel held her like he did not ever want to let go. He kissed her with all the love and passion he had in his heart that broke a little every time they were apart. Then he got into the SUV and left. She waved as a tear developed in her right eye. Susie couldn’t wait to get back to Cozy Cove with Axel.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound I”

No, it’s not Christmas yet but maybe it is cause I finally found the time to post this first chapter! Chapter 2 will follow if enough people read this xx

________________________________________

Snow is heavily blowing into her face, almost hurtful, making her favorite season in the world feel not that as comforting anymore as it usually does. She squeaks her eyes together quickly, her nose red from the cold while holding onto the little cold hand tightly as she steps up quickly. The big door of the old brick building is covered with a little roof. Luckily. She feels snow turning to water on the tip of her nose as she leans in to ring the doorbell. Taylor shakes her head one time, feels snowflakes fall down from her bangs. She then immediately looks down to the blonde toddler next to her, wrapped securely in a dark green snowsuit. Instead of Taylor, the five year old doesn’t really seem to care about the fact that her entire face is covered in snowflakes, her little cheeks are flushed. She pulls out her tongue, tries to lick the snowflakes from her nose. Taylor automatically reaches down, strokes her hand over the little cold face to warm her up. 

This snowstorm out here is crazy. 

Just before Taylor gets to fix the two little buns on her curly head, that are also covered in snow by now, the door in front of her suddenly opens and the little girl immediately lets go off Taylor’s hand, excitedly squeaks while running off and into the tall man’s arms. “Daddy!“ she smiles, reaches for him. Joe immediately picks up the cold and wet toddler, his big hands holding onto the small body as tightly as he can. He looks tired, she can see that clearly. He wears his old grey sweatpants and the white basic tee he always used to sleep in. 

“My little angel, I missed you so much.“ He moans into his baby’s arms, holds her as tight as physically possible on his arm. “I missed you too, daddy.“ the little toddler mumbles into his neck. Taylor swallows lightly, fixes the grip of her bag on her shoulder while feeling his stare on her, after pulling back from the tight hug. She clears her throat slowly, doesn’t want to ruin the moment between Joe and his daughter but really wants to escape the ice cold breeze she’s still in. “Can I come in?“ she asks and the blonde tall man immediately lets the little snow angel down, signals her to come in. Eleanor immediately hugs his legs once more while gushing at him from the floor and Taylor feels her stomach churn. 

It’s always these moments in which she realizes how much Eleanor misses her father. The way her little arms hold onto him. The way she craves his closeness in this moment, while standing in the doorway. This girl truly has a lot of love for her daddy and by the way Joe’s eyes lid up as soon as he saw her, Taylor knows that he feel the same. 

“Of course. Come in. I just made some hot chocolate.“ Joe says euphorically. He looks happy that they’re here. She feels that even though she wishes he’d hold back his excitement. 

Taylor smiles politely, simply closes the door behind her. She feels the warmth of the big fireplace coming from the living room, still smells her old Byredo candles that she left here. 

“Uh, I’m just gonna give you her bag. A change of clothes is in there. There’s her little jeans dress for tomorrow when we drop her off at school. And her glittery tights. We have also brought Barbie, Ken and her Elsa. We don’t have a book but I think you still have the one where..“ “Don’t you wanna stay for some hot chocolate? The weather is insane outside and..“ “To be honest I still wanted to work a little as long as she’s at your place.“ Taylor says, looks at her daughter to not have to look at him. 

She knows what he’s doing. He tries this every time.

“C’mon Tay. I won’t let you go home through this snowstorm. How on earth did you two get here without freezing anyway? Stay here until the weather is better, please.“ he says, his daughter pulling his hand, clearly impatient and wanting all of his attention now. He grabs the toddler and places her on the little velvet lounger that is right next to the wardrobe next to the door. Taylor sighs. She hates it, but he’s right. Maybe the snow will get less soon. Maybe walking home in an hour really makes more sense. “Okay, fine.“ she mumbles, quietly takes off her black boots, places them next to his wardrobe. As she takes off her big black coat she can’t help but smile silently. Joe, who’s on his knees in front of the little green snowman just leaned in to kiss his daughter’s cold cheek. But a small kiss turned into plenty kisses and Eleanor giggles loudly, tries to shove his scruffy chin away from her. 

“Daddy.“ She laughs and Joe let go off her, immediately reaches for her feet to pull off her snow boots. “Daddy, I have my wish tree for you. Ms. Clarkson said we have to make one for our mommies and our daddies and so I made one for mommy and for you. And I have one for me. Can you write your wishes on it, daddy? You have to do it fast before Santa Claus comes tomorrow. Can we make pancakes later?“ Taylor just remains next to them, her arms crossed while watching Joe take off the big snow suit from the small body. He looks up at Taylor for a second and grins silently. She returns the smile, can’t help but laugh quietly as well. The little girl can’t stop talking. That, she definitely has from her mother. 

“A wish tree? What’s that, bug?“ Joe asks with his thick British accent and looks at the blonde girl that just throws her head back laughing out loud. Her two curly buns are a bit messy as well and of course, she wears her favorite sparkly Christmas sweater. After all, she’s still Taylor’s daughter. It’s more than obvious. 

“Are you laughing at me?“ Joe asks in a high pitched voice, acts a little insulted while laughing at his daughter who’s still goofing around, then covers her mouth mischievously with her hands. Joe starts to poke her little tummy and Eleanor yelps laughing. “Daddy, a wish tree!“ The girl says again, obviously can’t believe that Joe still has no clue what this is. Joe in the meantime has shared an amused look with Taylor once more and grabs the little goofy girl to lift her up. “Why don’t you explain daddy what a wish tree is, E?“ Taylor says and walks right behind them into the living room. 

She takes a deep breath. Traces from her past interior decorations are still visible in these four walls. The little treehouse candle on top of the fireplace. The painting she made him for his twenty- seventh birthday is on the wall. Small reminders of their past are still haunting this house. She has no idea how he can simply keep all this. All these reminders of the dreams and hopes that never came true. All the things she left behind back then when she left. 

“It’s a Christmas tree that I painted and then cut out of the paper and.. and every mommy and every daddy can write down ten wishes for Christmas and the new year. And that’s because my tree has ten pine branches.“ Eleanor explains, holds onto her daddy’s shoulders. Joe places her on the high chair that’s on the wooden dinner table in the center of the room. He has never moved it aside, clearly held onto her promise to let Eleanor spend every second weekend with him. This time, it’s the weekend of Christmas. A rough decision she had to make. Christmas without her baby girl. The first one without Eleanor. Her family was heartbroken about the fact that they’d have to relinquish Eleanor yet understood that it’s Joe’s turn now. After all, the last year has been difficult on him as well. The first Christmas without Eleanor. 

The first Christmas without her.

“Wow and you made me one as well?“ Joe asks, sinks his head and steals another kiss from Eleanor’s head before looking at Taylor again. “I’m gonna get it, hang on.“ she says, knows how eager her daughter is to show her father what she has made in school for him. After entering the long hallway once more and finding the piece of green cardboard in her Eleanor’s little koala backpack, she returns into the warm living room and hands Eleanor her present. By now, the little girl has a hot chocolate mustache on her face already, excitedly hands the tree to her dad. Joe slowly slides another cup of hot cocoa towards Taylor’s direction. She smiles silently and sits down on the opposite side of the two. Her eyes wander off into the kitchen behind them. He’s still as chaotic as he used to be. A feeling of familiarity spreads all over her. She likes this feeling. She likes to think that some things maybe never really have changed after all. 

“This is beautiful. Eleanor. Did you make this? All by yourself?“ he asks euphorically, almost thrilled and looks at his daughter who sips on the hot cup of cocoa while holding the big cup with both of her little hands. She carefully places the, for her, huge cup in front of her again and nods proudly. A little proud smile creeping through her lips. “Love, that’s amazing. You’re a little artist. Like your mum, huh?“ Joe asks and smiles, makes his daughter laugh and Taylor smile softly. He looks at the Christmas tree in his hands. The little girl has drawn many stars and sparkles all over the cardboard. Tree ornaments and hearts included. For a five year old, he really is impressed. “And that’s where I’m supposed to write down my wishes?“ he asks and points to the branches of the tree. The curly head immediately nods and explains her daddy how it works. After finishing her hot cocoa and giving her dad more than a few cuddles, Eleanor storms off to the little big box at the end of the living room, starts to take out all her favorite toys that she has left at dad’s house and starts to play on the floor. After a few “don’t forget to put everything back into the box again later“ from Taylor, Eleanor seems to be in her own world, hums a few Christmas songs she has learned in school while playing with her dolls. 

“Everything good? How are you?“ Joe asks, still hanging loosely on the chair in front of her, one hand around the still warm cup and the other one running through his hair. He looks tired. She can clearly sense that. “Yeah, everything’s good. How are you?“ Taylor asks, takes another sip from the cup in front of her. She’s finally unfreezing, the fireplace clearly doing the trick. “Tired. I came home from New York this morning.“ he says, Taylor nods. “How’s your movie going?“ “Great. Yeah, really good.“ he answers, doesn’t really go into it at all. For the first second, Taylor is confused. But then, she gets why. He doesn’t want to talk about his career to her. He doesn’t want her to think that this is still all he does, all he has. He doesn’t want her to think that she was right, when she left. That the only priority he has, is acting. 

“How’s Naomi?“ Taylor asks, doesn’t know why she even asked, clearly wanted to change the subject from his career as quick as possible. “Who?“ He asks, a big yawn escaping his mouth. Taylor looks at him in shock. “Your girlfriend? Naomi?“ “Oh.“ He suddenly realizes, blushes a lot. “Oh. good. good.“ he answers, seems just as uncomfortable as her. Taylor nods. She knew that they were never really a thing and his reaction just confirmed this to her. Suddenly it’s quiet again, Eleanor’s angelic voice making both of them smile. She seems to be in her own fantasy world, sings her very own version of ‘holy night‘ while building her Barbies a new home on his carpet. 

“What’s new with you?“ Joe asks, clearly wanted to break the silence and looks at her. „Not much. I’m just writing at the moment and..“ “Your album?“ “Album?“ “You said ‘writing‘.“ „Oh.“ Taylor mumbles, “No, I’m.. I’m writing songs. For people. Not me. Mom duties make touring and promoting an album impossible right now.“ She says. Joe nods. He seems interested, but not as much in her albums. “I understand. But.. I can help you out more if you want. I mean.. I’m done with my movie and I’ll have way more time next year. Nothing’s planned at the moment. So..“ “That’s nice. Thanks. But I think I’m good.“ She says, looks up at him with that same cold stare and nods. This was clearly not the answer he wanted. She can feel that. 

“Are you happy?“ Joe suddenly asks and Taylor looks up at him once more. She feels a lump in her throat. She definitely wasn’t prepared for this question. “Sure.“ she answers, manages to raise the corner of her mouth. She can’t really look into his eyes. “You?“ She asks, wants to take the attention from her and her happiness as fast as humanly possible. “I’ve been better.“ He says, a little too honest for her taste. Taylor doesn’t answer anymore, is suddenly super interested in the cup in her hands. 

“Mommy, look.“ The little girl suddenly comes running to her mom. Taylor has never been more happy about this interruption by her daughter, immediately turns to look at the Barbie Eleanor has in her hand. “It’s the mermaid Barbie.“ She squeaks excitedly. Taylor looks at her daughter and smiles. “Oh honey!“ She laughs, happy for her baby girl. “And we thought you had lost her in school. See? I told you to look at daddy’s house first.“ Taylor says, her arm around her daughters small torso, pressing a sluggish kiss onto her cheek. Joe looks at the two in front of them and remains silent. He feels many things in this moment. Things he knew he couldn’t forget. Ever. Not in this life. “Call me next time and I’ll have a look.“ Joe says eagerly and looks at Taylor with a serious look on his face. She returns his stare and nods. She feels this protectiveness radiating from him all of a sudden. They had this talk a few months ago. He wants to be more involved. He always says that. But it’s difficult for her to let him enter her life when she’s the one who wanted to leave his. “You were busy working in New York.“ “I’m never too busy to talk to you and I also would’ve known that the Barbie was in there. Also.. you have a key. Don’t you?“ “I won’t use the key when..“ “Daddy can we make some pancakes? I’m hungry.“ Eleanor interrupts her mom and walks over to her daddy to press her head into his side. Joe immediately picks her up and places her on his lap before giving her a cheek a kiss from behind. “First of all, we don’t interrupt when mummy’s talking, love. Second.. pancakes with bananas? And chocolate?“ “Yes daddy.“ she smiles and Joe kisses her once more. Taylor remains silent. As so often since she’s here, in his house. Joe seems so happy and carefree since Eleanor’s here. He looks much more content with everything than when he first opened this door a few minutes ago. She swallows. Long forgotten feelings slowly seem to creep back up. Separating herself from him meant also separating him from Eleanor. And Eleanor from Joe. She separated these two human beings in some way. These two people who love each other endlessly. She takes a deep breath, looks at him disappear in the kitchen. She spent too many nights feeling this overwhelming amount of guilt on her chest after hearing Eleanor ask for her daddy. After listening to Joe’s crying on her speaker, begging voice messages asking her to come home. Asking her to give him another chance. 

“One for mummy as well?“ Joe asks, slowly looks back at her with Eleanor on his arm. The little monkey immediately crawls onto his back and giggles into Joe’s neck while opening the fridge for her dad to take out all the ingredients he’ll need. Taylor suddenly stirs from her thoughts, quickly shakes her head. “No, I should.. I should get going now.“ She says, quickly gets up. “Are you sure? It’s still crazy out there and it’s dark already.“ Joe says, suddenly not caring about the open fridge anymore, slowly walking back to her again. “I can call a driver.“ She says, smiles politely at him. Just when he was about to say something to her, Taylor interrupts him. “Goodbye, baby. Have a great time with daddy.“ Taylor says and Eleanor slowly crawls down from her father’s back to touch the floor with her feet again to give her mom a last hug. “Bye mommy.“ she says and Taylor crouches down until her head is on one level with her daughter. She places both of her hands on her cheeks, kisses Eleanor’s small lips gently. “Be nice to daddy and listen to him. Bedtime is when daddy tells you. No dramatic show stunts before going to bed, okay? love you.“ She says and kisses Eleanor again. “Okay mommy.“ Taylor smiles at her and gets up. Joe slowly walks with Taylor down the hallway, while Eleanor storms off to play with her doll house again that she has carefully built on the expensive carpet in Joe’s living room. “Are you sure..“ “Yeah, Brandon can pick me up.“ She says and holds her phone next to her ear already. She grabs her coat slowly, confused about the fact that her call doesn’t seem to get through. 

“Don’t forget to make her go to the toilet before going to bed. We’ve had a few accidents in the last weeks. Oh and no chocolate after 6pm.“ Taylor says and Joe nods. “I know.“ “Good.“ Taylor answers, desperately tries to call her driver again yet the end of the line seems dead. She doesn’t seem to have any phone connection at all. The snowstorm that was predicted for this weekend must be the reason for this state of emergency in town. No phone connection. No tube. Not even London cabs are available today. “Don’t you want to stay? I still have the guest room and I’d really feel better knowing you’re not out there tonight. It’s almost dark outside.“ Joe says, looks at Taylor with a concerned look. She’s still trying to make her phone work, just stands in front of him with her black coat, ready to leave this house. “Shit, can I try your phone?“ She asks and Joe sighs. “Sure. But think about my offer.“ He asks, remains with her in the hallway. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t go to get his phone because he wants her to stay. She’s been avoiding him so much since over a year now and he can’t do this anymore. Not being with the woman who he considered the love of his life once is tough enough. But not even being able to talk to her normally, like they used to, is even harder on him. 

Taylor notices his eager look while hearing Eleanor play in his living room. She slowly puts down her phone and sighs. Then she looks up at him. He has this hopeful look on his face. Taylor just shakes her head softly. “Don’t you notice how awkward this is?“ She asks, looks at him with an honest look for the first time in a while. “I do. And I don’t like it.“ He says, seems thankful for her honesty in this moment. “Me neither.“ “We were best friends.“ He then says and Taylor looks up at him once more. She finds sadness in his eyes, even though he smiles at the thought of their past. She’s captivated by his look, this trip in his eyes to back then. Back to the secret moments they shared in every crowded room. Back to the secret smiles and the awareness of the fact that no one really knew anything, except for them. No one really knew what this thing was, this thing between them. They never really were just lovers. They were best friends. More than that. They had this secret bond that was there from the very first second. They were inseparable. They were the bestest of friends on this planet. A unit. One. Even long before Eleanor came into their lives. 

“We always used to be a team and I don’t see why we shouldn’t be that anymore. We have Eleanor and we should be a team again. For her.“ 

Taylor nods softly. He’s right. Being co- parents means more than dropping the kid off at each other’s houses and avoiding eye contact. She always admired how her parents dealt with their divorce, never let her to her brother feel any tensions between them. And that’s because there were none. That’s because they decided to be a team for their kids. And this is how it should be.

“You’re right.“ 

“Why don’t you stay over and we start to.. to become a team again? I’m sure Eleanor won’t mind.“ Joe says and laughs softly at the end. Taylor smiles back at him. Of course she won’t mind. If there’s one thing this little girl loves more than anything, it’s mommy and daddy time. Of course. This is what she was used to for the first three years of her life. This is how it was always supposed to be. Mommy and Daddy. Taylor and Joe. 

“A team?“ 

“A team. Maybe not as good as ‘team frosty crew’ but.. still a pretty good team.“ he answer, smirks at her. He’s thinking back to the same moment she does. She can see it in his smile. She can feel it in his eyes. The same starry eyes looking at her as back then…

Five years, three days and two hours earlier.

“Okay, can we go through this again?“ she asks while standing in front of the little drawer in the hallway, struggles with putting on the silver bracelet that her mother has gotten her for her birthday. She’s nervous. Not just a bit. Whenever things don’t work out as they were planned, she starts to feel stressed and panicked nowadays. This new habit of her is also one of the things she still has to get used to when it comes to her unpredictable emotions nowadays. 

“Taylor, this is my bloody family. Not the supreme court of the United States.“ He groans back from the kitchen, his mouth clearly full. “Stop eating it, holy crap.“ She yells at him, is met by amused laughter from the tall man in her kitchen. She just shakes her head, finally manages to close the silver bracelet. With her high heels she slowly walks into the kitchen, finds Joe leaning against the corner. His head is sunk and he’s focused on the lemon tart in front of him. With a silver fork he eats the messed up cake, clearly famished. His mouth is full and Taylor just shakes her head, crosses her arms. Joe suddenly notices her and can’t help but smirk at her annoyed stare. 

“That’s gross. It was out there for three hours. The fucking cake must be frozen by now, how..“ 

“I like frosty cake.“ He answers, referring to one of their inside jokes. Taylor just shakes her head. She sometimes has no idea how this slender man can eat so much and not suffer from obesity or diabetes. He’s literally about to eat the entire cake she has baked for his mum’s Christmas dinner and which she forgot on the patio this afternoon. She just wanted the hot dessert to cool down for a few minutes. Everything was planned. His grandparents from Scotland would be in town. His eccentric grandmother everyone in his family fears. Because grandma Maria is not just a rich old lady. In his mum’s words she’s described as a ‘dictator of taste’, a ’meticulous old lady’ and other unlovely things. Taylor has never met Maria, but the fact that she’s about to give birth to her beloved grandson’s first child is enough reason to feel pressured to give an amazing first impression. She knows that it’s stupid to make it a challenge to impress this old lady. But she wants grandma Maria to like her. She wants her to think that she’s ’good enough’ to be part of his family. And Taylor is sure that she would’ve loved her lemon tart recipe. But thanks to her pregnancy brain, she left the beautiful cake outside for three hours and simply forgot it there. A snowstorm has hit the London sky by the time she remembered and her beautiful tart was ruined with snowflakes and water already. There’s no way they can present this mess to his grandmother now. Even Joe agrees with that. 

“You look beautiful, wow.“ Joe says all of the sudden and smiles at her with a full mouth. She just sighs, slowly walks up to him. He inspects her outfit once more. She looks like a model for a Christmas commercial. A Christmas commercial with a beautiful pregnant lady. Her red lips and her green velvet dress with long sleeves and high neck match perfectly. Her hair is curly as always and the little J necklace she didn’t take off at all in the last two years is the perfect jewelry to this attire. She also wears high heels, which he hates nowadays. Because nowadays she can’t really see her own feet anymore and stumbling in her advanced stage of pregnancy is something he definitely wants her to avoid. Joe looks into her beautiful face. Something is up. He can see it clearly. 

“Baby, what’s..“ 

“Give me that stupid fork.“ She interrupts him aggressively and casually takes his fork before shoving a huge portion of the cake into her mouth. He can’t help but laugh at her. As much as she acted like if eating the frozen cake is ‘disgusting‘, she still seems to crave the sugary paste as much as he did before. “Someone’s moody today.“ “M’ no moody“ she immediately complains with a full mouth and Joe can’t help but smirk at her. He looks at her eating the ruined cake. She’s about to cry, he knows that look. Joe just lets out a low breath, clearly amused by her behavior. She looks like a Christmas ornament with the little bow on the back of her dress. A pretty round Christmas ornament, thanks to the baby belly in front of her. 

He carefully places his hand on her back, draws circles with his big hands on the spot that pains her a lot nowadays. Then he slowly takes the fork from her, kisses her cheek to sooth her in advance. 

“What are you doing?“ 

“Making sure you won’t get sick before dinner. We’ve been there.“ he says in a deep voice, clearly tries to calm her. Taylor doesn’t even fight him, just swallows the rest of the cake in her mouth and takes a deep breath. Joe then grabs her two hands and makes her look at him. 

“We’ve talked about this for at least ten times. You made the cake. If anyone asks, Isabel from your PR team has a friend that works at Crimson’s bakery and she got you the recipe. You added some.. something, and that’s why it tastes exactly as If we had bought it. Which we haven’t. Because.. you baked it. With your bare hands. Like a real housewife.“ He says, clearly not as serious about their little lie as Taylor would want him to be. She seems stressed, feels like she failed already. “It was just a cake. Your mom asked me just for a fucking cake. Your grandmother will think I can’t bake. Or cook. She’ll probably think I’ll feed my child Nando’s for the rest of my..“ “Taylor, no one will notice that we bought it.“ “We have to find another bakery. I’m serious. Your grandma knows Crimson’s. Everyone does. Fuck. Why don’t we..“ “Baby! It’s Christmas. No other bakery in our radius has lemon tart. I called every fucking bakery in this town today. Please calm down. Our plan is bulletproof.“ He smiles, both of her hands still in his. She just shrugs her shoulders, as whiny as so often nowadays. He can’t help but laugh at her, then immediately pulls her into a hug. Her baby belly against his stomach, his hands on top of the soft velvet fabric on the back of her dress. She smells incredible, just like the pine scented fragrance she put on earlier. He can feel her slowly resting her head against his shoulder. The pressure of impressing his grandmother is a lot on her, even though she’d never admit it to him. She has planned her outfit for days, planned the dessert and everything she would say and do. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the fact that she’s stressing herself so much just to leave a good impression on his difficult grandmother. Christmas was always her favorite holiday. A ruined cake shouldn’t be the reason for her not to enjoy it this time around. One year ago, when Taylor was pregnant for the first time, she put just as much stress on her as she does now. She was scared. She was terrified. She wanted this baby but she was stressed to manage pregnancy and touring equally well. The doctors assured her that the miscarriage happened for different reasons. But he knows that the emotional baggage has influenced a lot. The loss of their baby is something they both have learned from. She needs to relax. She needs to think of herself, not let these irrelevant things get to her too much. 

All that matters is her and their baby. 

“I just wanted her to think that I’m capable of feeding a family. I wanted her to think that I’m not just a stupid singer, but also.. a housewife. A mother. I just want her to like me.“ she then mumbles into his chest and Joe can’t help but laugh slowly. “Where’s your feminism all of the sudden?“ “I forgot it outside with my dessert and my dignity.“ She shoots back and Joe smiles. He lets out a last sigh, then slowly moves his head to kisses her forehead. “She will love you. I promise. She’ll never find out that we bought the cake.“ He reassures her, strokes her back up and down a few times. She doesn’t move, remains limb in his arms and closes her eyes. She enjoys his back rubs. She enjoys them a lot. 

“At what time to we have to pick up the cake?“ She murmurs then, receives another kiss on her forehead from him. This pregnancy has been an emotional rollercoaster. She feels everything even deeper and more intensive than before, has no idea what she’d do if he wasn’t there to rub her back.

“In thirty minutes.“ He answers, still keeps her close. She has now swung her arms around him and hugs him while resting her head against his chest. She seems exhausted. She’s truly stressed about this. He knows that. “What If Patrick finds out and gives us away.“ Joe laughs quietly. “Nobody at my parents house tonight cares less for your cake than Patrick.“ He reassures her and she nods, slowly lets go off him and looks at him. Joe just smiles at her terrified facial expression and places his hands on her cheeks. She looks so beautiful. Even more since the so called ‘pregnancy glow’ has taken over her. She looks fuller than usually. Fuller and healthier. Flourishing. A life is growing inside her. A love is growing inside her. Joe smiles and kisses her slowly. She’s quiet. Her eyes are closed. “Let’s go, baby.“ He then mumbles against her lips. “Do you have everything?“ “Mhmhm.“ She nods, fixes her bangs quickly. “Nutmeg.“ She suddenly says, looks at him with big eyes. Joe, who’s fixing his tie in the mirror of the hallway by now just looks at her confused, unable to follow her fast thinking processes. As so often, nowadays. “What?“ “I added extra nutmeg. Which is a lie, obviously.“ She says, walks towards him into the hallway. “Don’t mess it up. Nutmeg. Remember this when..“ “I will.“ He laughs. It’s unbelievable how serious this is for her. “What If I say cinnamon, accidentally. That would totally give us away.“ He says in a serious tone, obviously ironic. Taylor just sighs and hits him in the side while grabbing her coat. She can’t hide a smirk though. “Baby, I won’t mess it up.“ He laughs, grabs the key from the drawer. “We’re a team.“ He adds, raises his hand to high five her, but she doesn’t react. She’s too grumpy to participate, just fixes her hair in the mirror once more. “We’re team frosty crew. Which has a total new meaning since your cake accident, by the way.“ He laughs amused and even Taylor can’t hide a smirk. He’s right. “Alright, Team frosty crew has to leave now. I don’t wanna be late.“ She says, leaves the house with Joe within the next two minutes. 

After the evening at his parents house has started off perfectly and Taylor has received tons of compliments for her outfit from his grandmother the moment of truth, which is the moment the cake was brought into the dining room has come. Surrounded by a Christmas tree and dozens of presents and family laughter, Joe can’t help but smirk mischievously while taking another sip from his wine glass. He can see from the corner of his eyes how Taylor takes a deep breath while sitting next to him, suddenly moves her left leg nervously under the table. Everyone starts to eat the lemon tart and Taylor receives tons of compliments. She remains noticeably quiet for her usual self, but no one seems to notice anything except for Joe. 

“Taylor, that is a remarkable tart. I’m impressed.“ His grandmother suddenly says from the end of the table. Taylor just smiles at her. “Thank you so much.“ “Tell me, dear. Did you bake it yourself this morning?“ The old lady asks strictly in her Scottish accent, which makes it even more difficult for Taylor to properly understand her. “Oh, yes. Of course.“ Taylor says, Joe fighting a laugh as hard as he can. “But I have helped as well. Right, babe?“ Joe suddenly says and looks at Taylor. They share a mischievous look and she grins back at him. She wants to kill him. He can see that in her eyes.

“Yeah. Joseph is a great helper in the kitchen.“ Taylor says in a monotone voice, receives an ironic smirk from Patrick on the opposite of her who’s eating the pie amusedly. “He added the nutmeg.“ Taylor adds and smirks at Joe once more. “Wasn’t it cinnamon, love?“ Joe teases and looks back at her while chewing the cake. Taylor looks at him once more and shakes her head quietly, still slightly smirking at him. He thinks he’s so smart. “No, babe. It was nutmeg. I’m very sure.“ She says and the conversations on the table seems to change again. Maria asks Patrick about his majors in school and Tom tells his grandpa about his new Job in Dublin. Taylor and Joe still smirk at each other. They don’t really talk, just laugh quietly. Everyone in the room is focused on the conversations between Tom and his grandfather. This is one of these moments in which they’re back in their own little world. Laughing about something no one understands and no one will ever understand. Joe suddenly grabs her fork and fills it with some pie from her plate. He then leads the fork into her mouth, feeds her like a little child. She laughs softly, a bit embarrassed of his behavior in front of his grandparents but then opens her mouth. Elizabeth looks at these two lovebirds fool around and smiles quietly to herself before following the other conversations again. “What are you doing?“ Taylor whispers with a full mouth, still looks at him and tries to recover from her laughs. “Team frosty crew rocks. We did a great job with this cake, don’t you think.“ “Team frosty crew should definitely shut up now.“ She answers him quietly, still chewing the dessert. Joe looks back at her and smiles. She does the same, can’t help but stare into his face. His gorgeous, beautiful face. He looks so cheeky, the little dimples in his smile radiating happiness onto her as well. 

Team frosty crew evidently rocks. Team frosty crew is just getting started.

“Okay, monkey. Time for bed. Please put the toys back into daddy’s box.“ Taylor says politely to her toddler, looks at Eleanor from where she sits. After Joe has ordered Chinese for the three of them, Eleanor was allowed to stay up a little longer than usually after not having seen her father for more than two months. The afternoon has still been awkward so far, after all. Taylor regrets that she agreed to stay. All she did was watch Joe and Eleanor interact. Joe kept on including her in their conversations but it seemed wrong. This was his time with Eleanor, not hers. He should be able to spend time with her all alone. She shouldn’t be here. Not at all.

 “Can I have bedtime with Daddy today?“ Eleanor whines from the end of the living room and Taylor looks at Joe. “Going to bed is a difficult project at the moment, so If you want I can..“ “No. No I’ll bring her to bed.“ Joe immediately answer her and Taylor nods. It’s definitely his turn, If he wants. Taylor slowly gets up and grabs the empty plates, carries them into his kitchen. Joe in the meantime has stood up as well and walks towards his daughter. “You can leave everything on the table, I’ll..“ “No way. You’re on bedtime duties, I’m on kitchen duties.“ Taylor interrupts him and Joe doesn’t fight her. Instead, he walks up to the five year old curly head on the carpet in front of him and smiles. He missed this so much. Joe remains standing behind her, slowly crouches down to place his big hands on her curly hair. The little buns on her head are clearly missed up. 

“Ready for one of daddy’s bedtime stories?“ He asks and Eleanor immediately jumps up, reaches for him. “Yes daddy!“ She squeaks excitedly. Joe gladly takes her onto his arm, is amazed every time how big his baby has become. Five years. Five years since this little angel has changed his life forever. He slowly walks back to the kitchen with Eleanor on his arm, who has wrapped both of her little arms around his head. “Say goodnight to your mum.“ Joe says to Eleanor, who just says soft “Goodnight mommy, I love you.“ Taylor immediately turns around and faces her daughter. Even Joe has to smile at the sweet words coming from their little angel. Taylor can’t help but smile at the little face, places the plates on the counter and walks up to Joe and her. Taylor smiles at the little girl, places both of her hands on these chubby little cheeks she loves so much. “Goodnight baby. I love you too.“ She smiles, kisses Eleanor’s nose a few times. Then she looks at Joe who just smiles back at her but remains silent in this moment. “Don’t drive daddy insane, monkey. Just one story, okay?“ Taylor says and Eleanor just sweetly leans her head to the side and grants her dad the sweetest smile possible. Taylor and Joe both laugh. “She’s got that from you.“ Joe says casually and then slowly walks out of the kitchen with Eleanor. She can’t help but smile while watching them disappear. He’s right. When she was always good at one thing then it’s wrapping him around her finger just by granting him a smile. 

“Can you tell me the one with the Papa bear and the babies, daddy.“ she asks him politely in her baby voice, hugs his head while being carried upstairs from her Papa. Joe loves the fact that he’s not the only one who seems to crave cuddles. Joe turns his head, presses a big kiss onto her chubby cheek. “Alright. But first brushing your teeth, love.“ He says and pokes the little girl into the side. She laughs immediately. Taylor slowly rinses off the dishes, hearts the two disappear upstairs. It’s weird how habits have changed so quickly throughout the last year. Before their separation, Joe had always been the one to bring Eleanor to bed. Even when she was just a baby, Eleanor loved falling asleep on her dad’s chest. It’s because of his incredibly calm personality. He radiates calmness, always has. And that’s exactly what Eleanor needed to fall asleep. Nowadays, she has gotten used to going to bed with Taylor. It has been a battle at first. But after a while, the toddler adjusted. That’s what kids do. They simply adjust. 

Taylor closes the dishwasher, asks herself if the situation tonight is weird for Eleanor. Does it bring back old memories of mommy and daddy together? Does she even have old memories of mommy and daddy together? If one thing has changed five years ago, then it’s the fact that everything Taylor does evolves around the well- being of her child. Everything. Even her decision to leave, back then. She wanted stability for Eleanor. Not a father who would break promises every night, who would travel the globe for his career but forgot to make enough time for his daughter. She could’ve stayed, she would’ve. She would’ve given him more time to find his way, would’ve fought endless fights with him to make him understand. But this is just what would’ve happened if there wasn’t a crying baby in her bed every night. This is not what Eleanor deserves. She deserves to experience faithfulness from a man, from her father. She deserves to experience unconditional trust from him. He’s the first emotional male interaction in her life and she didn’t want uncertainty to become the main emotion towards him. Taylor swallows. Just thinking about all the times he promised to come home and didn’t still break her heart over and over again. The little cries from Eleanor’s room. The tears that ran down her baby’s face because she asked for daddy a million times already. Because she wanted her daddy. She needed him. Even more than Taylor did. 

After drying the glasses with the grey kitchen towel, Taylor places the glass in the cupboard and closes the door. She scratches the back of her head and looks outside of the window. She smiles. It’s still snowing and the immense amount of white snow that covers the street almost lights up the sky. It’s the night before Christmas Eve and she loves the fact that they will, in fact, have a white Christmas this year. Just when Taylor was about to go back to the living room, she hears footsteps coming from upstairs. She peaks into the hallway with a confused look. But instead of her, Joe just casually enters the living room again, places the little baby phone on the coffee table of his living room before turning on one of the floor lamps at the end of the room. “What are you doing?“ Taylor asks him confused and Joe just returns her look. “She’s asleep. She was out after two seconds.“ He answers casually. “No. I mean the baby phone.“ Taylor says and he just looks at her again, not understanding at all what she’s asking him, while walking past her and into the kitchen once more. “What’s with it?“ “Joe, she’s not a baby anymore. She doesn’t need a baby phone. If she wakes up she’ll come to us, trust me.“ Taylor says amused about the fact that he still acts like Eleanor’s a baby and unable to tell them If somethings’s wrong. “I know. But it just makes me feel better to..“ “To hear her snores while sitting down here?“ She teases, leans in the doorway to the kitchen and looks at him grabbing something from the cupboard. “I just want to hear if she has a nightmare or anything as long as I’m downstairs.“ He says and Taylor doesn’t reply anymore. Joe adores this little girl. He has missed her. 

“Want some wine?“ Joe asks then, reaches for the bottle of white wine in his fridge and looks back at her. “Is this part of our team building?“ She smirks while still standing in the doorway, her arms still crossed. He doesn’t really answer at first, just smirks at her while automatically pouring wine into the glasses. She loves wine, he knows that. He has spent too many drunk nights with her in bed not to know how much she likes white wine. “Drinking wine has always been our way to.. bond.“ Joe murmurs, fills the two glasses with wine and then puts the bottle back into the fridge. “Or our way to make a baby.“ She casually says and Joe looks up to her. They both laugh quietly. “You’re right.“ He smirks, walks past her and casually falls onto his sofa. He then yawns loudly, runs his fingers through his hair. Taylor stands there, still more uncomfortable than ever. She still has no idea why she agreed to this. Why she let him convince her that this was a good idea. Spending the night with an Ex? Never a good idea. Especially not if you have a child and lots of unfinished business together. 

“What are you standing there?“ Joe then laughs, signals her to sit down next to him. Taylor awkwardly walks up to him, sits down at the end of the sofa. He still laughs at her and Taylor rolls her eyes before nipping on her wine glass. She tugs her legs up a bit, casually leans against the cushion sideways and shakes her head at him. “Why are you laughing at me?“ “You act like I’m a total stranger that you have to have a conversation with.“ he mumbles before taking a sip himself, clearly still amused. She blushes a bit, shakes her head. “Considering the fact that the last real conversation we had is more than a year ago, you probably count as a stranger.“ Taylor says, just realizes how sad these words were that came out of her mouth. She swallows quietly, not able to look at him anymore. She doesn’t know if these words were inappropriate. She didn’t want to sound rude. “I tried to have many real conversations with you over the last year but you were the one who high key tried to avoid them.“ Joe says, not angry at all. He’s calm. He can even look at her. 

Taylor sighs, then finds her courage to lookup at him. “I had my reasons.“ She just says. A little more reserved than she intended. “And these reasons were the fact that I was working a lot?“ He asks provocative and Taylor freezes. She looks at him, doesn’t react anymore. Does he call this ‘becoming a team again‘? Bringing up all these old things, all these old emotions that make her angry all over? If that’s his idea of becoming friends again, then she feels sorry for him. “Do you really wanna go there again, Joe?“ Taylor asks more tense than before, ready to play this game, ready to fight him If she has to. But Joe then looks at her again and his angry facial expression has changed. She knows this look. She has seen this look back then, last winter, when she dropped Eleanor off at his place for the first time after moving out. When he stood there in his door, dark circles under his eyes, hugging his daughter as if he was holding onto his life. This look is a look of surrendered anger. Sadness. Deep sadness. 

“I don’t.“ He simply answers, making Taylor swallow once more. She’s angry. She’s so done. She’s so done being the bad cop. Him making her feel responsible for all this. For the reason they aren’t a family anymore. 

“I should go to bed.“ She mumbles, places her glass on the coffee table in front of her. “Can I ask you a question?“ He suddenly says and Taylor sighs. She just wants to leave. She just wants to go home, to her own house. Far away from him and this living room. This room full of memories and all these questions he has. 

“What?“ She says, almost angry at him for even asking. “Did you lie to me?“ 

“When?“ 

“When you said that.. that you left because I was gone too much. Or was it because you just didn’t love..“ 

“How dare you even say this.“ She suddenly interrupts and Joe looks at her immediately with shock on his face. He never thought that this question would suddenly make her so angry. She looks devastated. Broken. He immediately starts to stutter, doesn’t know what to say to ease the situation but feels all these emotions coming back up again. He’s so angry. He’s so angry at her for having this power over him. For making him feel all these things, after all these years. 

“You left me a message. A bloody message, Taylor. You didn’t..you didn’t even want to talk about this. I barely saw you when you dropped Eleanor off at my place for the first time after weeks. I didn’t even have the chance to explain. You just left with my daughter within a few minutes. I came home and you were gone. Both of you. My family. Do you know how that feels? It feels like losing everything. I didn’t have a fucking reason to want to live anymore for months and months. So excuse me, but I do think I have the right to ask..“ 

“Goodnight, Joe. Thanks for the nice evening. I’m going home.“ Taylor mumbles ironically, immediately gets up and walks into his kitchen. She feels her heart bursting. There’s no way she can be in one house, let alone one room with him anymore. She feels like she can’t breath anymore. She feels like he’s taking her air. With all these words that just came out of his mouth. 

“There’s no way you’ll get a taxi that late at night.“ He suddenly answers, feels another emotion creep up. He’s scared. Scared to see her leave this house again. Scared to loose her once more, even though he didn’t even really have her tonight. Not really. Not enough to tell her everything. 

“I have security.“ 

“Good luck having them drive up that hill with these snow masses.“ He murmurs, hates to express these feelings with anger bit can’t help it. He seems to follow her around the spacious kitchen. She pours out her wine glass in the sink, then walks back to the living room to grab her cardigan. She looks angry, just like a volcano. Ready to explode. 

“I’d rather walk home and die from all this snow than be stuck in this fucking house with you.“ She suddenly turns around, hisses at him. Joe doesn’t reply, looks just as angry. He knows what’s happening. He’s been waiting for what’s happening. It’s the first time they actually talk. It’s the first time two people are confronted with each other since they set a bomb and watched their world explode, fall to pieces. It’s the first eye contact after the storm. After their world has come to an end a year ago. 

“I know. You left me a message on the speaker about that last year.“ He says with a sassy undertone, just as offensive as her. She just shakes her head, looks more angry than he thought was possible. She quietly puts on her cardigan, then pauses for a second and looks into his face. 

“Fuck you. I really thought you were honest about wanting to work things out tonight. I trusted you.“ She yells, tries not to be too loud to wake her daughter. Joe just looks at her, unable to believe she just said this. He feels all he felt back then slowly come up again. All the anger, all the sadness, all these memories in his head that seemed to haunt him to death. 

“Oh you trusted me? Great. Cause I loved you. I fucking loved you. How does that feel, huh.“ He yells but Taylor looks into his angry face, then immediately turns around and walks away. 

“Eleanor’s Christmas play begins at 4pm and she has to be there at 3pm. Don’t be late, her teacher will flip.“ She then says in a totally different voice. She seems cold. She has shut down again, has become as unattainable as she has been for the last year. Joe just watches her walk down his hallway, reach for her coat. Her phone is on her ear already as she puts on her boots. He sighs, looks at her walking away. He knows that it wasn’t the smartest choice to say all these things tonight when all he truly wanted was to become a team once more. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t keep these things inside. The hurt was too big to play this superficial single parent game with her today. He’s not ready to be a single dad. He was never ready to be a single dad. He didn’t sign up to become a single dad. He signed up for raising Eleanor with the love of his life. Not without her. 

“What are you doing?“ He murmurs, rubs his eyes. Watching her leave again breaks him even more. He feels exhausted from all these feelings that just boiled up. He feels exhausted from fighting from hating her. Joe slowly walks up to her, but she’s faster. “I’m leaving. Bye.“ She hisses, immediately opens the door and walks outside. The second she steps outside is the second she realizes that this, in fact, was a bad idea. A very bad idea. It’s not just the immense amount of snow that is coming down from the sky. It’s the intense wind, that is making it almost hurtful to feel the snow lashing against her skin. Taylor squeezes her eyes, unable to fully open them as she walks down the steps from his house. She holds her phone closely to her ear, prays for Brandon to pick up. How can the phone lines be that damaged? The national news have predicted that this might be the biggest storm in the modern history of England, but she never thought it would be so bad. It was a mistake to let Eleanor convince her to walk to Joe’s house. She should’ve taken security. She was so stupid. 

Just when Taylor is about to fight her way through the iced front yard, she suddenly realizes how slippery the floor really is. Even before she can catch herself, she looses her balance, fights to stay upright, but falls. Within a few seconds, her phone is in the air and Taylor slips, stumbled and falls onto the ground. She feels her back hit the iced floor, feels the hard collision in her bones. She feels like crying. Her back hurts. Her butt hurts. When will this streak of bad luck finally end? Taylor slowly sits up, realizes that she has ice cold snow all inside her clothes. She’s cold. Her phone is gone. She feels tears rolling down her cold and wet cheeks while sitting in the snow, right during this crazy storm. She can’t help but slowly let a first sob escape her mouth. She’s not sure wether it’s her fall or his words. His words that sing on her heart like a knife. She feels so much pain, is not able to get up again. She learnt to get up whenever she fell. But this time, the cold hard ground is too heavy on her. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?“ She suddenly hears the same familiar voice behind her that was haunting her in her tears before. Taylor doesn’t move, still sits on her butt in the cold snow and cries her eyes out. The white snow masses on the ground reflect onto the sky, almost light up this dark night. Taylor sinks her head once more, hears fast footsteps in the snow behind her, then feels two hands on her shoulders. “I found your phone. I saw you slipping from my..“ Joe then stops, catches his breath as he realizes that she’s sobbing. Hot tears are running down her face and she immediately pushes his hands away, tries to get up. It’s hurtful to move but it’s even more hurtful to feel him standing behind her, wanting to help her get on her feet again. She can get up alone. She has enough strength to walk home alone. She doesn’t need him. She just doesn’t. Taylor closes her eyes in pain, then gets up. Joe grabs her arm immediately. 

“It’s way too dangerous to walk home right now. Please come inside, that looked really bad. Are you in pain?“ He asks, feels incredibly bad that their fight before may have been the reason why she’s hurt now. But Taylor just doesn’t turn around, tries to free herself from his grip while fighting the lashing snow blowing into her wet face. She grabs her phone from his hand, then tries to shake off his big hand that is holding her left arm tightly. “Let go off me.“ She yells while sobbing hysterically, doesn’t want to face him. Joe doesn’t let go off her. There’s no way he’ll let her go home now. There’s no way he’ll let the mother of his child walk home all alone at night during a snow storm after hurting herself already due to the crazy weather conditions. “I won’t.“ He yells back, looks how desperately she tries to free herself. The entire situation must look almost comedic to strangers. Him holding onto her arm and her yelling, trying to free herself while being covered in Snow. “Let go.“ She yells again, then looks at him. He sees her crying face and swallows. He has never seen her more hurt than this. Joe immediately stops thinking, pulls her into a tight hug. She’s still fighting him, begging him to let go. But he’s stronger than her, just places his hand on her head, the other one around her figure. Then, slowly, she gives up. Let’s him hold her. Let’s him hold her in the craziest snow storm that she has ever been in. She cries hysterically into his jacket. Maybe because it all has gotten too much for her. Maybe because he smells like he always did. She can’t stand the pain anymore, in this moment. She’s not strong enough to stand it anymore, right now. 

“I’m so sorry.“ He suddenly mumbles into her ear, while holding her. She cries into his shoulder, holds onto him desperately while he feels her limb body in his arms. She knows that he’s not talking about the snowstorm or her fall. “I’m just so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.“ She can hear him say, his voice changed as well. It’s not because of the snow, she knows that. “I broke so many promises, I.. I don’t know why. I always loved you. I always did, please.. please believe me. Don’t go. Please don’t go right now, I.. I need you to not go tonight.“ He mumbles into her almost wet hair, is clearly crying now as well. The amount of snow that’s coming down makes it almost impossible to not have a white layer of snow covering all of their clothes. Yet they’re just standing there hugging. But it’s not the gentle kind of hug, they often used to share. It’s not the loving hug they were both used to. It’s not a way to keep each other warm, anymore. It’s a desperate hug. A desperate way to hold on to each other. Desperate not to fall. Again. Taylor doesn’t reply in any way, just keeps on being more and more weak the second he talks. He holds her close, realizes that she’s freezing, her entire body is shaking. Even more than he is. Joe immediately pulls back, looks into her face. Her cheeks are bright red, her eyes even more so. She looks destroyed and pale. She looks more hurt than he thought he’d ever see her. But she looks at him. She looks at him for the first time. For the first time since then. This is her, opening up. 

Look what you’ve done to me. 

This is her showing him that she’s still there. That she didn’t forget. She can’t forget. Joe can’t help but place his lips on her bangs, kisses her forehead slowly. She doesn’t stop him, keeps on sobbing. He closes his eyes, breathes her in deeply. Just like then.

Six years, five days and three hours earlier.

“I don’t think we can do this“ Taylor cries, her eyes red and swollen. She sits on her bed, one leg under her butt, the other one hanging down. Her cold and wet hands are placed on her lap. The room is fully lit, even though it’s 2 am. Joe just sits down next to her, hands her the glass of water. 

“Take a sip please.“ “Everything will change. All we have will be gone. Do you..“ “Taylor, take a sip.“ He repeats, this time a bit more strict. She hiccups a few times, then grabs the class with her cold and shaky hands. Joe remains right next to her, places his hand on her naked shoulder, strokes her hair gently with his thumb. She’s absolutely terrified and panicked, will surely collapse if she won’t hydrate soon. She has cried since hours. Ever since she went into that bathroom. Joe looks at her, watches her gulp down the glass of water. He knew how thirsty she must’ve been. In between crying and fighting with him, there hasn’t even been a few seconds to drink something. As soon as she’s done, Joe gladly takes the class from her, places it on the nightstand next to her. Taylor breathes heavily, exhausted. She doesn’t move. Joe looks at her, grabs her shaky hand. “That’s good. Breath.“ He whispers, looks at her with a sunken head just breathing. She’s surrendering. She has cried too much. There’s no strength anymore. “I can’t kill it.“ She then mumbles, still not really looking at him. Joe can’t help but smile, immediately places his hand on her cheek to make her look at him. Her eyes are puffy and she has red spots on her face. She always does after crying. 

“I don’t want you to kill it.“ 

“I want it but not now. This was never planned. I wanted to get married first and..“ 

“We can get married afterwards.“ 

“You act like this is all fun.“ She suddenly says, a bit more angry than before. She looks up at him, his hand still in her neck. She looks just as scared as before, her red eyes full with tears. 

“It is.“ 

“It’s not.“ 

“Taylor.“ He then rants, looks into her eyes, “This is our baby.“ he mumbles, a huge smile spread across his face. He immediately places his hand on her stomach, kisses her cheek. “We didn’t plan this, but we always wanted this. I know you feel overwhelmed and you don’t know if you’re ready for this. But you will be. And just know that I am.“ He smiles and looks into her eyes, “I am so, so.. ready. I want all of this. I want all of you. I want the pregnancy, I want the sleepless nights, I want to raise this little angel. I want her or him to look like you, I want the parent teacher conferences, I want the tantrums. I want to do this with you. I love you. You’re my best mate. I want this.. with you.“ He says, got way more quiet at the end of his little speech. Taylor still looks at him, her chin slowly trembling again. He still smiles. She’s so beautiful. She’s a mess but she’s the mess he always wanted. The mess he will always want. He feels her cold and sweaty hand on his cheek. And then he kisses her. He kisses her, feels her hot tears on his lips. He can taste the saltiness. He can taste her fears. Her love. 

“I love you too.“ She then cries against his lips. "I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I just.. this is just… it’s a lot and..“ 

“It’s fine. It’s all fine. We’ll always be fine. It will always be us, Tay. You and me. We went through so much. There’s nothing we couldn’t do. Trust me, baby.“ He mumbles, pulls her into a tight hug. She’s still wearing nothing but her nightgown, has goosebumps all over her soft skin. He feels her soft sobs in his shoulder, kisses the little spot over her left ear a couple times. He then slowly lets go, wipes her tears away and smiles at her puffy face. She still looks scared but happy at the same time. He knew that it was his turn to calm her. She needed to be reassured that she’s not in this alone. That this wasn’t planned but is still something they both always wanted to happen someday. Joe can’t help but place his lips on her bangs, kisses her forehead slowly. She doesn’t stop him, keeps on sobbing. He closes his eyes, breathes her in deeply.

Taylor opens her eyes, then closes them again immediately. She still feels her aching back, feels her eyes that are still swollen and puffy from last night. There’s relief though. Deep relief. She groans tiredly, then opens her eyes again. She looks around confused, realizes just now that she’s in the guest room of his house. It seems to be late already. After all it’s not even dark outside anymore. Taylor scratches her head, then looks around. She hears noises from downstairs, slowly slides the blanket from her legs. She wears some old sweats and a hoodie from him. She doesn’t know these clothes, which implies that they’re new. Taylor remains sitting on the edge of the bed, reaches for her back once more. She’s making a face, then yawns. How could she be so stupid to just run out of this house late at night and think that she could just walk home alone. She’s still emotional over his rant. But it was good to finally get it out. It was good to be honest to each other for once, even if that means that she has a hematoma on her back now. The talk afterwards was important. Nothing is fixed. But they opened up to each other again. 

Taylor slowly walks outside of the room, then makes her way downstairs. As soon she gets closer to his kitchen, she can hear Joe’s and Eleanor’s voices coming from the kitchen. There’s her childrens Christmas music coming from the living room and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate makes her smiles slightly. “Now stir it. Yup. Like that.“ “But Daddy, what’s this?“ “Just stir it a little more, angel. Look, let me help.“ Taylor yawns once more, remains in the doorway. Eleanor stands on a chair in front of the kitchen counter. Joe right behind her, guiding her hand with the whisk while stirring the dough. Eleanor then seems to notice her, turns around and is clearly distracted by her momma. “Mummy’s awake.“ She determines and frees herself immediately from the chair and Joe’s grip. Joe just turns around while stirring the rest of the dough, smiles at Taylor. “Great timing as always. Pancakes are coming right up.“ He says busy, as Eleanor already runs into Taylor’s arms. 

“Good morning baby.“ Taylor smiles at her daughter, picked her up and holds her on her arm. It’s moments like these when she can’t believe how big her baby has become. She’s not even a baby anymore. Not at all. 

“Good morning, mommy.“ The blonde curly head replies and Taylor presses a kiss onto her lips. “How did you sleep?“ “Good.“ “Did you have a nice dream?“ She asks, smiles at Eleanor. This has always been their little morning ritual. Eleanor loves to tell her mom about her dreams and Taylor loves hearing her talk, loves to spark her fantasy when it comes to telling her about a dream she had. 

“Mhmhm.“ The little girl shakes her head, but Joe suddenly answers from the stove. “What about the the little baby bear that you told me about last night?“ Taylor immediately laughs, presses another kiss onto her daughter’s cheeks and sits down on the kitchen table next to where Joe is preparing breakfast. Her dreams always include cute pets. She has noticed that pattern. “Did you keep Daddy up last night?“ She asks, Eleanor just shakes her head, playing with her mommy’s long hair. “She came to me at.. about 4 am. We talked about the teddy dream and then went right back to bed.“ He answers, is filling the empty plate next to his pan with fresh pancakes by now. “Did you cuddle with Daddy?“ She asks and Eleanor nods smiling. Taylor kisses her cheek once more. She’s glad Eleanor got some snuggles from her Dad last night. She definitely missed that. Eleanor quickly frees herself from Taylor’s lap and runs up to her dad again. Unfortunately, she’s still too little to see how her Dad is flipping the pancakes. Joe laughs at how desperately she tries to climb onto the chair again, still in her Pjs. He then grabs the little girl with one arm and holds the big baby on his hip while continuing the flipping with just one hand. “One.. two.. three.“ He says, flips the pancake, let’s the pastry fly for a few seconds and then catches it with the pan again. Eleanor squeaks, immediately claps her hands. Taylor laughs, claps for him as well. Joe turn around and laughs at these two girls before preparing the next pancake. Taylor looks at Eleanor. The way she looks at him is something that still gives her goosebumps. 

She looks at him as if he’s the king of the world. 

He is the king of Eleanor’s world. 

“Again, Daddy.“ She says and squeaks one time which makes Joe laugh. “Okay we have one more left.“ He says, handling the pan and then flipping the pancake once more. This time he almost misses to catch it again, struggles to keep half of the pancake inside of the pan. Flipping pancakes with just one hand is more difficult than he thought. Eleanor laughs out loud, screams excitedly and then throws her head back laughing while holding onto his shoulders. Joe grouches desperately, then saves the pancake in the last second. His daughter is still laughing about her desperate Dad, lets her head fall against his shoulder while laughing out loud. Joe smiles at her, sinks his head to kiss hers while smiling at her. There’s no sweeter sound than his baby girl’s laughs in the morning. “Daddy..“ She laughs and Joe turns around with Eleanor on his arm, places the plate of hot pancakes on the kitchen table next to Taylor. She still looks tired but she smiles at how much fun these two are having. She looks how Joe places Eleanor on her chair, immediately fills her plate with a pancake. Taylor helps Eleanor put some bananas on her plate, then looks at Joe again and grants him a soft smile. 

“Looks good.“ 

“Doesn’t just look good, also tastes good.“ He says confident, smirks at her as mischievously as he always did. She replies an ironic smile and shakes her head. If he was always good at one thing in the kitchen then it was his ability to make pancakes. 

“How did you sleep? How’s your back?“ He asks and Taylor seems a little uncomfortable, busy eating her pancake. “It’s fine. Advil helped.“ She answers, doesn’t really want to talk about her little break down in the snow last night. Instead she focuses on the girl next to her, runs her fingers through the curly mess on her head. “Are you excited for your play tonight?“ She asks, knows how much Eleanor has been looking forward to her first Christmas play at pre school tonight. It’s actually a big thing. The little girl was chosen for the main role, that is little Rudolph, and Taylor’s heart has never been prouder. Joe promised to join as well after he has missed several choir performances and cake sales in the last year. This is his daughter’s big night and Eleanor has shed too many tears in the last years when her daddy wasn’t there to come along. If he dares to miss this one again, she’ll kill him. Literally. “Yes, mommy.“ She answers, her mouth full of the delicious pancakes that her dad made. At home, Eleanor isn’t that crazy about her pancakes. And even though Taylor uses the exact same recipe as Joe does, the pancakes of course taste better at daddy’s house. Taylor has sussed that out already. 

“Daddy are you coming with mommy?“ Eleanor asks Joe, who immediately nods. “Of course. Do you think I’ll miss my angel on stage tonight? No way.“ He says euphorically and Eleanor’s eyes sparkle. Taylor looks at him with that one specific look he knows too well. 

You better won’t break this promise or we’ll have a problem. 

“Mommy are you coming with daddy?“ “Of course, I’ll be there as well.“ “No, are you and daddy coming together?“ She asks once more, leaves Taylor confused. “Honey, why do you want us so badly to arrive together?“ Taylor laughs, still not sure where Eleanor is going with this. But to Taylor’s surprise, Eleanor suddenly becomes quiet, just slowly eats her pancakes with a pout. Taylor immediately feels that something is off, shares a look with Joe who just shrugs his shoulders. “Honey? What’s wrong?“ Taylor asks, her hand on her daughter’s neck, playing with the tiny blonde curls. 

“Emily said that.. that I’m a liarer.“ She mumbles, pouts like a baby all of the sudden. Joe has also put down his cutlery by now, looks at Taylor for help. “Why did Emily say that you’re a liar?“ Taylor asks, and Eleanor still doesn’t reply. Instead she immediately rushes down her chair and crawls onto Taylor’s lap, presses her little face into Taylor’s chest. Taylor naturally hugs her baby tightly, feels soft cries underneath her arms. Joe looks at Taylor in shock. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby. Come on. Mommy wants to know why Emily said that?“ Taylor murmurs, sinks her head to kiss Eleanor’s head. Eleanor then slowly sits up again. Her little face is red and a few tears are still running down her tiny face. Joe feels as if his heart is going to stop. The thing he hates the most in this world is seeing Eleanor cry. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world.

“Eleanor. Give me your hand, angel.“ He says worried, reaches for her tiny hand over the table. She quickly places her tiny hand in her Papa’s while still looking more than whiny. Taylor wipes her tears away, kisses her temple while rocking her slowly. She’s still in her little cat pajamas and naked feet are hanging loosely down from where she’s sitting. She looks like Taylor whenever she’s crying. Joe swallows, gently caresses her tiny hand that he’s holding on the table. “Why did Emily call you a liar?“ He asks now as well and Eleanor looks at him with raised eyebrows and desperation written all over her chubby little face. 

“Because.. she said that I lie because I don’t have a daddy and..“ Eleanor doesn’t even have to finish. The entire mood has suddenly changed. Dead silence between them. Taylor swallows, slowly looks up at Joe. He looks broken. He has never felt more pain than in the moment these words escaped his baby’s mouth. She can see that. He immediately gets up, crouches down in front of Taylor and Eleanor and grabs both of Eleanor’s small hands. “Your daddy loves you so much, Eleanor. And tonight when I come to watch your play, Emily will see that she was the one who was lying. Because you know that you have a daddy, right?“ He says, looks into her eyes. She nods. She doesn’t seem to be happy yet. Joe looks desperately at Taylor. She doesn’t know what to say, just sees in Joe’s eyes in how much pain he really is while still holding her baby. She’d love to help him, but she doesn’t know how. 

“Do you love mommy? Daddies love mommies and..“ 

“Honey, who told you that all these rules about what mommies and daddies have to do?“ Taylor immediately steps in, is sick and tired of these conservative values that the parents of this private school are giving their children. 

“Do you love mommy?“ Eleanor asks and looks at Joe who still crouches in front of the chair. Taylor suddenly feels her throat growing more and more tight. She didn’t want to go there, but apparently Eleanor really wants to know. Joe hesitates first, then swallows before nodding. “Of course I do. I love mummy so much, you have no idea. Your mummy is my favorite person in the whole world. And so are you, my love. Don’t let these girls tell you lies. From now on, I’ll always be at any school event to prove these mean girls wrong, huh? Does that sound good? If you want I can say hello to Emily tonight.“ He says and Eleanor seems to finally look happy. She smiles and nods, then slowly crawls down from Taylor’s lap and into Joe’s arms. He hugs her tightly while crouching in front of Taylor’s chair, closes his eyes while holding the little body as tight as possible. He’s crying. Taylor knows that. He presses his eyes together, as tightly as possible. She swallows. His words have touched her. This is the first time she feels like crying as well. Where on earth did they they go wrong? How could it ever come to this? 

“Daddy loves you so much. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you don’t have a daddy because none of these kids have a daddy who loves them as much as I love you. Okay?“ He mumbles into her ear and she nods. “I love you too, daddy.“ She mumbles and Taylor swallows, takes a deep breath not to cry as well. Joe then kisses the girl’s head a few times. Eleanor seems to be easier to ease than they thought. She climbs onto her chair again, seems as happy as before. How easy it is to make a child happy. How wonderful this life would be if it would work like this for adults as well. Taylor looks at Joe but he doesn’t return her stare, just sits back down again, stirring the spoon in his tea. “Mommy, can I get up and play?“ She asks politely and Taylor nods, clearly none of them in the mood to be strict today anymore. Eleanor walks up, runs into the living room and starts to play with her dolls again. Taylor looks at Joe who just quietly gets up. He seems to have lost his appetite. She can’t blame him. 

Taylor watches him start to clean everything up and gets up as well. He’s tense. She feels that. She knows him too well. He wants to cry. He is about to cry. She slowly places her hand on his shoulder while watching him rinse off the plates. He doesn’t react. After all, he’s not a bad father. He shouldn’t feel like a bad father. Ever. “These things come from all these over- privileged kids with their old parents who are all lawyers or doctors. Don’t..“ “She’s right. A dad attends school events. A dad is sitting in the front row. I’m not..“ “Don’t do this to yourself“ She immediately interrupts, doesn’t want him to go there. He has made mistakes, yes. But he has made so many things right as well. Eleanor adores him. She loves him to death. All of that is because he did so many other things right. Even when he was away. 

“She loves you.“ Taylor says, her hand still on his shoulder, caressing him. She can’t stand to see him like this. It’s true that he hasn’t been a great partner to her at the end of their relationship. But he’s not a bad father. Not at all. “Yeah, because I make pancakes and pay for things.“ He replies quietly with that sarcasm in his voice that makes Taylor sigh. It makes her angry to hear him say things like that. Cause it’s not true. Not at all. 

“Joseph!“ 

“It’s true though, isn’t it?“ He asks, trust around to face her. She lets go off his shoulder and looks at him, feels a lump in her throat. He has tears in his eyes. It’s been a long time since she has seen him this emotional. She slowly turns around to make sure Eleanor is not listening to any of this. But the little girl seems to be in her own world again, slowly sums the words to her favorite Christmas song while playing on the floor. “It’s not. Not at all. She loves you because you make her laugh, because you’re so kind to her. Because you love her unconditionally. You brought her to sleep when she was just a baby and she has her earliest memories with you. Don’t let these five year old brats let you..“ “I should’ve been there.“ He interrupts, turns around to continue rinsing the dishes. 

She doesn’t fight him this time. Yes. He should’ve been there. 

“You can be there from now on.“ Taylor says, not sure why it’s so important to her to let him know that he’s not a bad father after all. “You can become the helicopter Dad, If you want. You can change this from now on. You can fix this. You can fix all of this from now on.“ She says, reminding him of the Taylor he once fell in love with. The most positive person he has ever met. The little sunshine on a dark and rainy day. Her soft voice that was able to soothe all the chaos in his head. Joe slowly turns around. He still looks as emotional as before. But this time he looks right into her eyes. And it hits her deeper than she thought cause she can feel what he feels, once again. Just like it was back then. “I can’t fix it all, can I?“ He murmurs and she realizes that they’re not just talking about Eleanor anymore. This is about them. 

Taylor remains silent, doesn’t stop looking into his eyes. She can still read these promises in his eyes. She can still read all these dreams that never came true. He’s still Joe and he will forever be Joe. 

“You will never know how much I wish you would. I wish you would fix this. All of this. Us.“ She replies with a shaky voice, feels how her knees are growing weak. She swallows her tears once more, looks at Joe who seems rattled up all of the sudden. He looks breathless, waits eagerly for her to continue. “But you can’t. And you know that.“ Joe looks surprised, but sad and frustrated at the same time. He changes his standing position, crosses his arms slowly. This is not how he expected her little speech to end. 

“I can. Why do you think I can’t fix it?“ He asks and she sighs. Do they really have to go there again? “Because you love your job. And having a child means that..“ “You never gave me a second chance. Why? Why don’t I deserve a second chance? I became this fucking young asshole Hollywood actor who didn’t understand that family and job are hard to combine. I know that now. You were always more mature when it comes to that. But I have learned my lesson. Ever since you walked out that door, I have learned my lesson. I have learned what it means to loose your family. I know now that my job’s great but my family is better. Why can’t you forgive me? I just want a second..“ 

“Giving out chances means nothing else but bringing uncertainty in her life. This is not just about us anymore. This is about Eleanor’s life. Her emotional life. If I tell her that Daddy will be there from now on and then after a few months you decide that your movies are more important again, how do you think she’ll deal with it? I’m done hearing her cries when you decide to come home later. I’m done missing you.“ She said, suddenly realizes what just slipped out of her mouth. “I mean, I’m done watching her miss you. We can’t have any more uncertainty in our life. And that’s why I didn’t give you a chance when you..“ 

“I’m her father. How can you not give me a second chance?“ He suddenly asks and Taylor freezes. She looks into his eyes and suddenly doesn’t know what to say. He just leans against the counter once more, his arms crossed, his hair still messy from bed. She looks into his ocean blue eyes while standing in front of him, then sinks her head and lets out a slow breath. He has nerves to just say this. 

“Do you think there’s anyone out there who’ll ever love you two more than I do? You’re my life. You two are my life. You as much as her. I would swim from England to America If I’d have to for you two. I.. I made mistakes. I hate myself for it. But that will never stop me from loving you. And I’m glad that there was a crazy snowstorm last night so I could finally imprison you in this house because this is the first time in months that you’re not running away from me. I haven’t.. I haven’t touched you in over a year. I haven’t kissed you in over a year. I miss waking up next to you. I miss us three. I miss my best friend. I just..“ Joe sighs, ends his little speech and looks at her. He never thought he’d finally be able to say this and he’s well aware that his timing seems off. The dishes behind him are waiting to be rinsed off and his daughter is on the other end of this flat, playing happily with her toys. The timing seems off but it has never felt more right to say these words. He looks at Taylor and she stares out of the window behind him. “You act like all of this is so easy on me. I miss my best friend, too. But I love her and I won’t.. I won’t cause this huge change in her life just because you say all these things. I want you to act, not talk. And unless you do, none our feelings are relevant here. She’s a child. She’s dependent on us and I won’t.. I won’t risk her getting hurt.“ Joe can’t reply to that anymore. He just looks at Taylor who has had watery eyes. But she seemed to have caught herself again, slowly swallows the emotionality down. She looks back at him now and all he sees is her broken heart. The heart of the love of his life that he broke with his own hands. Joe looks down slowly, then looks back up again. 

“I still believe in us. I never stopped believing in us. I still think that you and me are..“ 

“You got what I said. I should get going.“ She interrupts, this time eager to follow her plans. Joe swallows. He feels rejected. In a hurtful way. But he understands her. If this is her decision, he has to understand her. “Don’t you want to drive together, later? I think it would be nice for Eleanor to..“ “Yeah, I’ll be back at 2pm. I’ll help you two get ready.“ She answers monotone, doesn’t look at him anymore. “Thanks for the breakfast.“ She adds, then turns around and stumbles upstairs to change.

Seven years, five days and three hours earlier.

“Put that damn thing away, woman.“ Joe mumbles, reaches for the polaroid camera in her hand. But she’s faster, quickly stretches out her hands while sitting on him, still wearing nothing but his while T- shirt. Underwear is overrated. Especially when they have touched each others most intimate parts anyway everywhere already. She starts to squeak as she realizes that he’s stronger than her, gives up as soon as Joe has towered her and lets go off the camera. He laughs at her, places the camera on her nightstand before pulling her back to bed with him. She laughs out loud, feels his strong arms grabbing her from behind. He bombards her with kisses on the cheek. She laughs, tries to fight him but gives up. “I just wanted one cute photo. Just one cute photo of my boyfriend.“ She protests, but Joe just keeps on working on her temple. “We’re having sex. Can we agree on a no-cute-photo policy during sex, please.“ He whispers and Taylor laughs, closes her eyes. She loves the way he’s working on her ear now, enjoys every second of his touch. His big hand is slowly making it’s way under her shirt, his fingertips brushing her left nipple, giving her goosebumps once more. “We’re not having sex. You just took a two hours nap, grandpa.“ she counters and Joe laughs, breathes out some hot hair. She can feel that tickling on her ear, his gentle hands that are still discovering all these hidden body parts. “You brought me to my limits. And we’re too late for my mum’s dinner already.“ Taylor smiles at him, loves the reason why both of them will be late. She turns around, simply looks at him. He smiles cheekily at her and she remains like this, looking into his eyes and granting him the biggest smile. She needs no words. Joe slowly gets closer, lets their lips touch each other for a split second before kissing her once more as If it’s the most natural thing in the world. “This is so weird.“ She laughs then slowly into the kiss, her head on the pillow, him over her. She loves his weight on her. She loves the fact that their noses are still touching. 

“What?“ He whispers against her lips once more, slowly buries his hands in her hair. 

“We’re just.. everything.“ She whispers, is so close to him that there clearly is no necessity for them to speak up in any way. “And what’s that?“ He smiles, steals her full lips one more kiss. 

“Best friends. Lovers. You give me orgasms.“ Joe can’t help but laugh quietly. He buries his face in her neck, slowly suckles on her warm skin. 

“I love giving you orgasms.“ Taylor smirks while placing her hand in his hair. She looks at the ceiling, feels his soft lips kissing her skin. 

“I love that you love giving me orgasms.“ She replies. He slowly lets go off her, then crawls back to press his nose against hers.

“I love you.“ He answers and Taylor looks into his eyes. She can’t help but touch his face once more, explores every inch of his skin with her fingertips. “Forever, baby.“ She smiles, kisses him slowly. Joe deepens the kiss, presses his body even more onto hers. He hears her soft moans while growing closer and closer. Her legs that slowly open up and the way she pulls him in…

“Mommy, can I wear the same lip color as you?“ Eleanor asks for the fifth time since Taylor has entered the house. She stands in front of Joe’s bathroom mirror, fixing her hair while waiting for him to get ready. She turns around and faces her daughter. The little girl is nervous, she can sense that. 

“Honey, you will play Rudolph the reindeer. You can’t wear red lipstick. All your friends’ lawyer moms will think I’m an awful mother for allowing you to wear lipstick at only five years old.“ Taylor laughs at her pouting daughter. Sometimes when they have a girl’s night at home, Eleanor is allowed to play with her make up. Put not tonight. And especially not with all these conservative private school parents in the room who already talk about superstar mom Taylor Swift and her child anyway. 

“Please mommy.“ She pouts and Taylor was about to answer as Joe suddenly enters the bathroom. “Where does that pout come from..“ He jokes, looks around and pretends to look for Eleanor. The little girl immediately starts to laugh, jumps up and down to make him notice her. Joe then suddenly notices her and smiles at Eleanor while struggling with his tie. Taylor smirks at him. He looks handsome, she won’t deny that. Joe in a tie will always be nice to look at. “I want to wear the lip color like mommy. She looks so pretty.“ Eleanor pouts at her dad again, crosses her arms dramatically while pulling on the skirt of Taylor’s dress. “It’s called lipstick, baby. You look just as pretty without lipstick though.“ Taylor says, as Joe crouches down to be on one level with Eleanor. She still is throwing a tantrum, but Joe immediately places his big hands around her small figure, looks into her face. “Love, you know why I always hated when mommy wore lipstick?“ He asks and Eleanor looks at him confused, doesn’t understand how anyone could not like her momma’s colorful lips as much as she does. She shakes her little head and Joe still holds onto her. “Because whenever she wore lipstick, daddy couldn’t kiss her because then daddy’s lips would be red, too. So what am I going to do If you wear lipstick now as well? Then I won’t get any kisses here anymore.“ He says dramatically, makes Eleanor laugh out loud. Joe makes a grimace and then forms his lips to give her a kiss. Eleanor immediately leans in and gives him a kiss on the lips. He smiles at her, signals her that he needs one more and then gets up. Taylor quietly observes how Eleanor slowly walks off, grabs the rest of the Barbie’s she has placed in front of the bathroom while playing. It amazes her any time how much Joe can calm her with his words. How he can simply make her laugh, in any given situation. Thinking that he’s a bad father is so wrong. A bad father doesn’t give his baby girls kisses like these. These two have a bond she’ll always admire. 

Taylor, who still leans against the counter looks at him. Joe notices her stare, looks back at her once more. She wears a dark blue dress, her hair in a bun. She wears high heels and he knows that she’s already the fittest mum in the entire room of parents tonight. She always was. 

“You look hot, mommy.“ He answers and Taylor just looks at him with an outraged look, immediately hits him into the side and rolls her eyes. He laughs, shrugs his shoulders while still trying to fix his tie in the mirror. “Shut up, Alwyn.“ She mumbles, can’t stand to see him struggling with his tie any longer. 

“Oh god, let me do this.“ She rolls her eyes, immediately reaches for his tie to help him fix it. Joe smiles down at her. She’s concentrated. He loves that. She suddenly looks up at him and then back down again. This feels like normalcy. “Are you always that desperate without me?“ She mumbles, clearly amused that it took him five minutes to fix his tie and for her less than thirty seconds to help him. She lets go off him, smirks and he laughs slightly, looks into the mirror once more. “I am. Look at me.“ He jokes, makes her laugh again. She hates the fact that it’s so easy with him. 

She hates the fact that she’s enjoying this. Him. 

“Do you still have some cash? They’re collecting donations at the end of the play and I only have ten pounds in my..“ “We pay them a ridiculous amount of money every year. Don’t you think they..“ “Joseph, this is your daughter’s education and they ask for donations, so we..“ “Alright, alright, mother Theresa. I’ll prepare a nice check for this poor private Hampstead school.“ He smirks while fixing his hair and Taylor rolls her eyes. 

“Be nice. We’ll meet all of Eleanor’s teachers, her friends’ parents and..“ “I know how to behave, Tay. Calm down.“ He laughs. It seems that both of his girls are a bit nervous for tonight. Taylor was just about to walk outside the bathroom to get Eleanor ready to go as Joe stops her one more time. She turns around and he signals her to step into the room once more, carefully closes the door quietly. “What?“ She asks confused. Joe looks uncomfortable, knows that he still has to ask this. “Have you.. do they.. do they know we’re not together anymore or..“ Taylor looks at him a bit unsettled, shrugs her shoulders. She then crosses her arms, has no idea what to say. “I never told anyone. I don’t think they know.“ Taylor says. There certainly have been a couple of break up rumors in the media this last year but never enough to even let the parents and teachers at Eleanor’s school know that they’re taking a break. “Do you want us to act like.. or..“ “I won’t lie to them.“ Taylor immediately answers, her arms still crossed. She has put her walls up once more. Joe just nods. Her answers was clear. Taylor walks out and Joe checks himself out in the mirror again. He doesn’t understand her. In one second, they’re laughing and she’s opening up, treating him like she always did. In the next second he’s the bad guy again. Joe sighs, rubs his eyes. Why does this have to be so difficult?

“Mommy, can I go to Anna and Lily?“ Eleanor asks her mom while walking down the school corridor on her daddy’s hand. She smiles at Eleanor and how excited she is. She’s nervously bouncing up and down on Joe’s hand. Seeing her friends with all these dressed up parents certainly makes the little girl more nervous than before. Taylor immediately stops, crouches down to Eleanor and smiles at her. “Of course. Look, Ms. Downing is also here.“ Taylor smiles, glad to know that her teacher will take care of the toddlers before their big show. “Baby, Daddy and me will be watching from the front row. Grandma and Grandpa will cheer on you as well and after that we’ll celebrate you. Promise. We’re so proud of you, no matter what. I love you.“ She smiles, give her little kid one last hug. Joe smiles at Eleanor, then also crouches down. Now it’s his turn. He hugs her tightly, then whispers something into her ear. Taylor can’t understand a word he’s saying, just notices all the stares from the other parents that are also dropping off their child for last rehearsals in this big old corridor. She’s uncomfortable, as always. This school is one of a high- profile yet she seems to be the only ‘superstar‘ dropping off her child. As so often, people stare then turn their heads to talk to the person next to them. She sighs. How much she hates these shady London elitist parents. 

Taylor looks down to Eleanor, who’s still holding onto her hand and who’s now laughing at whatever her Dad is whispering into her ear. Taylor can’t help but smile. She looks so cute tonight, wears a jeans dress and her favorite shimmering tights. She can’t wait to see this little girl in her Rudolph costume. A moment she’ll probably never forget. Joe then kisses her cheek a few times before requesting another kiss on the lips and then gets up to let her walk off. Joe and Taylor both wave at her, look at her walking up to her friends. “She’s so big. I feel like crying already.“ Taylor mumbles and Joe nods. He never thought that it would be such a weird feeling to see her do her own thing. To realize that she has fun with her friends, simply walks off and enjoys herself. That’s how it should be. Still, it’s the hardest thing to watch. 

“What did you tell her?“ Taylor asks him then, looks back at him while slowly walking into the other direction of the corridor. They pass a few other parents who are already on their way to the annual cake bazaar. “I just gave her some tips. From actor to actress, you know.“ He smirks. Taylor returns his smile. He and Eleanor have so many similarities. It’s incredible. 

“Okay, let me tell you a few important things..“ Taylor mumbles before entering the big assembly hall. They quickly rush into the first row, place their coats on four seats and then make their way out again. “Ms. Hendersson is Anna’s mom. And Ms. Mandra is Lily’s mom. She’s the Asian woman. We like them both cause they’re Eleanor’s friend. We won’t talk to the big redhead monster. Her son Brandy has hit Eleanor last month and..“ “He what?“ Joe asks shocked suddenly, looks at Taylor totally confused while making their way through the big old hallway once more. It’s dark outside already and the unpleasant old ceiling lights are lighting the building at this evening. “I told you about this.“ Taylor mumbles as they walk past the small classrooms once more. “You didn’t.“ He immediately says, “If I would’ve heard that some guy has hit my daughter I’d remember it trust me.“ Joe answers and Taylor rolls her eyes at him. “That ‘guy‘ is a five year old boy, so calm down.“ “I’m not surprised he’s a problem kid already. His name is Jack Daniels, who the fuck..“ he stops, immediately feels Taylor’s elbows in his side. She shakes her head, can’t hide a smirk as they walk pass a few other parents. He has always been overprotective when it came to Eleanor. 

As they enter the room, Taylor sighs deeply. Her biggest wish is for this night to finally come to an end, even though it hasn’t even started yet. She looks around. Many parents and teachers are having glass of champagne in their hands already while chatting the night away in all their British accents. Taylor hates these superficial interactions. An enormous amount of these parents are ten years older than them, showing off their huge diamond rings while sipping on their glasses. Taylor is very familiar to the stares as soon as she attends one of these school events. But this time, entering this room full of parents is suddenly very different. And it takes her exactly ten seconds to realize why. This time, the focus is not on her. It’s on the handsome company in the suit, right next to her. “Is this Ms. Clarkson..“ Joe murmurs, as the woman suddenly comes running to him, interrupts her answer. “Are you Eleanor’s father?“ - a middle aged woman suddenly walks up to them, immediately shakes his hand. “I mean.. you certainly are. The resemblance is astonishing.“ She laughs, doesn’t even notice Taylor at all, not even grants her a polite smile while shaking Joe’s hand. “Oh thank you. I hope so.“ Joe jokes slightly, makes the woman in front of them cackle in laughter immediately. Taylor looks around, can’t believe that this is how this night starts. “Mr. Alwyn, we’re so pleased to finally meet you. I’m Ms. Clarkson. I teach your daughter since last year. She’s such a bright little girl. You must be incredibly proud.“ The woman gushes, doesn’t even face Taylor at all while shaking her hand. She seems captivated by him. Taylor could puke right there. Joe just smiles politely as always, listens to the woman talk. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Clarkson. We heard so much about you already. Thanks again for the wish tree my daughter gave me.“ He says and the woman starts to laugh again. Taylor feels how annoyed she already is, after only five minutes into the event. She looks at Ms. Clarkson, notices how different she acts while talking to Joe. She’s flirting. Being more obvious about the fact that she seems to find the man in front of her attractive seems impossible. 

As soon as the brown haired woman starts to go on and on about how generous his last donation has been to the school, Taylor realizes that she needs a drink. As soon as possible. She slowly walks off, makes her way to the waiter at the end of the room and gladly takes two glasses from his tray. As she was just about to make her way back to Joe, she spots little Anna’s parents and walks over. This is a small talk she can’t escape. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes later, right when she noticed that donations are about to be collected, Taylor tries to make her way back to Joe. During all that smalltalk with all these boring people, Taylor completely forgot that the second glass was for Joe. She didn’t mind though. Champagne is definitely all she needed to get over with this evening. 

She slowly places the glass on the serving tray, then looks around the big crowded room. It takes her exactly two second to spot her company. And she can’t believe it. Joe talks to a small group of some mothers. All of them clearly in their forties and clearly enjoying the conversation. She could get nauseous by the way these Hampstead moms look at him. The permanent giggles. The lovey eyes. She’s used to this reaction when it comes to going out with him. Joe has always been dreamy and the fact that he’s not really aware of this quality is part of the effect he has on most women. 

Taylor crosses her arms. This is unbelievable. He’s a father, for goodness sake! He’s at his child’s school. How can these mothers just stand there as a troop and flirt with him shamelessly. He doesn’t even notice, she can see that in the way he talks. He’s telling a story. He’s not flirting. She knows him too well to differentiate his gestures. He’s clearly not aware of the eyes these women are giving him. Taylor doesn’t know what it is, but she suddenly feels a wave of protectiveness rush over her. Old feelings, very old feelings she hasn’t had in a very very long time are creeping back up. Especially this one particular feeling she hasn’t had in a long time. Maybe it’s because he’s wearing a suit or maybe it’s because she sees how these women are looking at him, almost drooling at the sight of his gorgeous face. He is the father of her child. He came here with her. If any of these frustrated single moms think that this is how this works, then they’re wrong. She’s leaving with him. End of the story. 

Taylor immediately starts to walk over. First one, then two, then three pairs of eyes are suddenly on her. Taylor immediately fakes a smile, leans her arm around Joe’s shoulder and looks up at him. She can tell that he’s confused by the way she acts around him, stops his story of how he filmed his very first movie real quick and looks at her in pure confusion. Taylor smiles into the group of clearly aroused housewives and apologizes. “I’m so sorry for interrupting. I was so rude not to introduce myself before, sorry. I’m Mrs. Alwyn. Eleanor’s mother.“ She smiles, shakes the women’s hands automatically. Not just Joe looks totally confused at her, also the women she’s shaking hands with suddenly share a few confused looks. Mrs. Alwyn. Does that mean that Taylor Swift has gotten married after all? “Can I hijack my husband for a few seconds? Lovely to talk to you.“ She smiles, grabs Joe by his suit and pulls him out of this loud classroom. As soon as he walks down the empty hallway behind her, he finally opens his mouth. Still speechless about the scene she just caused back in the classroom. But Taylor’s going fast on her high heels, dragging him with her in a speed that’s confusing him even more. “Could you maybe explain to me what this was, or..?“ Joe asks but she doesn’t answer, instead seems eager to walk to the end of the hallway with him. “I can’t believe you introduced yourself as ‘Mrs. Alwyn‘“ he laughs, still not processing that she apparently decided to not tell these people that they broke up. He still walks behind her, confused of where’s she’s headed to. “What are you doing?“ “Showing you the school that you pay thousands of pounds to every month?“ 

Suddenly Taylor takes a right turn, walks up to a closed classroom at the end of the corridor. She opens the door, then turns on the light immediately. “What are you doing?“ Joe asks again. She seems different than before. More quiet. 

“I want to talk.“ She murmurs, lets him enter the classroom, then closes the door and locks it. He leans against one of the small tables in the middle of the room, looks at her with a confused look on his face. 

“Why are we..“ 

Taylor then walks up to him, doesn’t even stop before simply kissing him. Joe doesn’t move, hesitates for a split second before slowly placing his hands on her back, returning the kiss. She seems breathless, restless. Her kiss is gentle but dominant. She’s angry. He feels that. She then lets go off the kiss, breathes heavily then stumbles back to the door. She walks back and forth. She seems out of her mind. And he’s out of breath, not sure wether he’s dreaming or not. 

“Have you seen these sad, desperate women?“ She suddenly turns around, starts to gesticulate with her hands in the air while looking at him. The red lipstick on her lips is clearly smudged and she’s rattled up. Angry, to say the least. “Mr. Alwyn, it’s so nice to meet you. Your daughter is such a joy to our school. Whoops-a-daisy, Mr. Alwyn, my legs just fell open..“ she imitates them in a squeaky voice, makes even Joe laugh quietly. He still leans against the table, still more than confused from their kiss. But he gets it now. He knows her too well. She has had champagne, but she’s not drunk. 

Right now, she’s drunk on something totally else. And that is called jealousy. 

“You got jealous.“ He laughs quietly, his hand in the pocket of his trousers, while watching her come closer to him once more. “What was it that got you? I’m just interested.“ He smirks, definitely proud that she’s still so protective of him. Taylor immediately wraps her arms around his neck, presses her torso against his and kisses him again. He feels out of breath. Her lips feel too good. Her smell. Her taste. All of that brings back all these feelings. 

God, he loves this woman. He has never stopped loving this woman. 

Taylor slowly lets go off him, nipples on his lower lip, her hot breath in his mouth. “I want you to fuck me in this classroom, Joe.“ She suddenly breathes against his lips, still sucking on his lower lip slowly. Joe looks at her, a mixture of pure lust and uncertainty in his eyes. Is she serious right now? 

“Are you drunk?“ He whispers, tries not to laugh. She’s crazy. She always was. Suddenly Taylor kisses him again, seems to be sober enough to look into his eyes like she always did. And that’s when she suddenly gets what he’s doing. At first he was shocked. Then he understood that she was serious. And now, all he does is tease her. Tease her with his gorgeous smile. With simply standing there, not acting upon her hot words. He’s showing her that she can kiss him, but she can’t have him. 

But If really he wants to play this game, she can play it as well. 

Taylor slowly lets go off him, walks back to the door once more. She immediately turns off the light, then slowly makes her way back to him. He can hear the sound of her high heels on the floor, laughs quietly. He still can’t believe what has gotten into her. This side of her was something he discovered after months into their relationship. They always had this undeniable chemistry. She learnt to open up, to live out her fantasies with him. This is her opening up again. This is her admitting that she still wants him by herself. Even after all. 

“Have you seen the tall brown haired guy in the grey suit?“ She asks through the dark, leans against him once more after returning to him. Her hands are in his neck again and her torso is pressed against his. She’s almost nibbling on his lip once more while talking, leaving Joe with goosebumps. “His son is really friendly with Eleanor. He’s a single dad. Trust me, there were so many cake sales where he looked at me and I..“ She stops, bites her lips. She can see in his eyes through the dark that he’s looking at her lips. Still captivated by the sound of her voice. The hot breath against his skin. 

“And I knew that he’d love to do this for you.“ She finishes. 

Two can play this game. 

“Do what?“ He whispers, and she bites her lips once more. “Fuck me in this classroom. Make me scream. Make me scream like only you could make me scream. Make me drip on your feet. Make me forget my own name while.. while having you in me. Inside of me.“ Joe’s hands are suddenly incredibly tight on her waist as he runs circles on her sides and up to her ass, then he kisses her again. This time he’s the one that’s protective, almost possessive. Maybe it’s the darkness. Maybe it’s the fact that they both know how wrong this is. All of this. Joe starts to nip on her neck. She breathes out heavily, a soft moan in his ear. 

“You’re mine. And you know that“ he whispers as he guides his tense hand to the hem of her dress, lets his soft fingers pull up the fabric inch by inch. Until he can feel her butt cheeks under his fingertips. She’s wearing a thong. Her lips on his are driving him insane. He can’t think straight anymore. A primal instinct taking over him. Just the thought of her being touched by another man is driving him insane. Only he’s allowed to do this. Only he’s allowed to make her moan into his ear like this. 

“Fuck me.“ She moans out, doesn’t have to guide him anymore. Only profanities are escaping her mouth and she knows that she wants this. She fucking needs this. Her hands are on his suit and she digs her nails into his back, so deep that she swears he’ll feel the scratches on his naked skin tomorrow. Joe automatically kisses her, harder this time. His brain is on another level. All that matters is her. He looks into her eyes once more, right through the darkness of the room and pulls her thong down her legs immediately. He then pulls back, turns them around and places her on the table. He looks into her eyes and can’t help but kiss her again. 

She’s was right. She’s his. His only.

[the-unshaped]

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME BACK TO BEACON HILLS

Chapter Text

"How's the first day back?"

Stiles Stilinski grinned as his oldest friend, Scott, slapped a strong hand on his shoulder. After what felt like a million years away from each other, he was back, his best friend standing beside him. It was a fantastic feeling.

Walking into the school was bizarre. He had felt nostalgia in the past but nothing to this extent before. Maybe it was because his last school was so much larger, but it seemed like every year they were making noticeable changes. Beacon Hills, on the other hand, was exactly how he remembered. The same white and black speckled linoleum floors, same painted mascot on the walls, same old lockers, same trophy cases lining the main hall.

Stiles was stoked.

Even the classes he'd taken so far, which would have ordinarily bored him since he'd learned a lot of what they were going over already, left him feeling almost giddy. The teachers didn't seem to share the sentiment, but fuck them. He wasn't going to let Finstock calling him Billinski a million times drag him down today.

Stiles and Scott had met up the day before, his dad surprising him with dinner and his childhood best friend as a gift for finishing all his unpacking, but it was even more exciting to know he was going to see him every day. They had talked at least once a week after Stiles finally broke and got Facebook eighth grade year and even more when they both had online gaming, almost every day. It was like they'd never stopped.

Stiles had been begging his dad to move back since the day they left, and he only got more persistent after his reunion with Scott, but no matter how hard he tried to convince him, no dice. That is until his dad's college friend, Adam Wilder, let him know that the Beacon Hills was offering full ride scholarships to the college of their choice to the top 5 graduates and was in need of a new sheriff. Not even John could refuse that kind of help. Despite his worry that he wouldn't be accepted as a transfer, he took a chance and put in an application. A month later and a million moving boxes later, Stiles was leaving his fancy Sacramento apartment and on his way home.

"Not bad, Scott. I've got Dad, my best bud, and my nightmares of a poorly-aged Lydia can finally be absolved because she is still as much of a goddess as the day I left, dare I say more. All is right with the world," he said, eyeing the lean strawberry blonde haired girl down the hall. Scott winced, and pulled at his lock, freeing it from the metal loop before opening it and shoving his math book inside. "I definitely missed this place. What more could I ask for?”

Scott scoffed and scuffed the toes of his shoes against the floor. "I can't imagine why anyone would miss this place."

Stiles eyed him, unsure if he was playing around or not. Leaving Beacon Hills, for him, felt like tearing off a limb, leaving something messy, jagged and bloody in its place. Sacramento hadn't been bad, per se. He made awesome grades and was in a club or two every year. He had some people that could pass as friends he hung out with occasionally, but it wasn't the same as the life he had in Beacon Hills. Also losing a limb, Stiles had survived the initial pain and adapted, but at the end of the day, he knew that it wasn't there and could feel the ache of its absence.

Stiles knew he was meant to be there. It was where he was born m. Where he learned how to tie his shoes and write his name. Where he and Scott made a terrible mess in the kitchen making treats for a fundraiser, and Melissa made them clean all day after school, scolding them even as she ate the last remaining cupcake. It was home.

The only difference between losing a limb and losing Beacon Hills was that there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he could get it back, if only he could convince his dad. It was only a few hours away, and he would eventually be able to choose where he lived. Luckily he hadn't had to wait that long.

Stiles shrugged off Scott's dismissal. "I'm sure you'd miss it once you left."

Stiles closed his locker, and noticed Scott had gone quiet. He took a peek over his shoulder as he clamped his padlock shut and realized he had his eyes trained on an adorable brunette talking to a fierce looking blonde he had noticed earlier in their math class. Stiles looked between them a dorky smirk spreading across his face.

"You are so obvious, man. Your tail is practically wagging."

Scott's eyes shot up, eyebrows knit together. "What?"

"That girl. The brunette. You have your 'unrequited pining' look on your face," Stiles explained, shutting his locker door. Scott frowned, crossing his arms, even as he snuck another peek at her.

"It's not that obvious," Scott muttered.

"I've literally only been here for," he looked at her phone, then back up at Brennan, "three hours and forty-five minutes and I knew the moment you looked at her."

Stiles looked at Scott's downtrodden face then brightened. "Wait, is that Allison? Like love of your life, scary but amazing, Allison?"

The blonde glanced over at them, smirking at Scott. Stiles didn't seem to notice. Even if he had he would have no reason to suspect that she could hear anything he said, but Scott knew differently. He flushed, wrapping his arm around Stiles shoulder, whipping him around to face the lockers in a huddle.

"Dude," Scott hissed. "Keep it down."

"It is her! Holy crap," Stiles laughed. Scott just pouted, his eyebrows still pulled together.

"Yeah, yeah. You're brilliant. Can you shut up now?"

"Come on. You act like people are listening," Stiles said, craning his head around to look at the near bustling halls. "Trust me, we aren't that interesting."

"Speak for yourself. I'm plenty interesting."

"Oh yeah? Let my go ask how interesting you are," Stiles teased. "Yo, All-!"

Scott clamped a hand over his mouth, and Stiles was quick to retaliate.

"Did you seriously just lick me? How old are you? Stiles. Stop it!"

Scott dropped his hand with a scowl, wiping it on his dark jeans.

"I'll have you know, licking people could solve approximately 80% of the world's problems," Stiles said, hitting Scott suggestively. "Speaking of licking, how the hell did you get so built? I thought you sucked at sports."

Scott's scowl bled into a full blown grin, ignoring Stiles' sexual remark. "That was last year. A lot has changed. Now hurry up or we're going to miss lunch. And please try to control yourself a little, okay?"

Stiles gave him a questioning look, but didn't ask. He followed Scott through the halls, weaving through the people, trying to connect names to old familiar faces. Some people were easier to remember than others. He would catch flashes of memories from t-ball and baseball practices, or stories her dad had told him on the car ride here. He had only ever really been close to Scott before they left, but the familiarity was calming in a way he hadn't expected.

Stiles couldn't help but grin when they pushed through the heavy doors to the cafeteria.

The walls were a less than white white, dull and slightly grimy with age. They had long rectangular tables instead of the faux wood round ones at his old school, but honestly he liked these better, even if it was just a bit too much white all together for his taste. Too much like a hospital.

"Wow it hasn't changed at all," Stiles chirped. "I bet Mrs. Green still has that wild chin hair, too."

As if she could hear him, Mrs. Green looked up at him with a scowl. He waved at her excitedly, a lopsided grin painted on his face, and Scott shook his head in amusement.

"Hi, Mrs. Green!"

As they made their way through the food line, Stiles reminisced over the meatloaf and asked if they still had the breakfast pizza with white gravy and sausage balls he loved so much. Scott couldn't help but get secondhand excitement. It had been so long since he had felt normal like this. Not that he didn't like his life or that he didn't enjoy things the way they were, but having a friend that wasn't constantly caught up in his problems was nicer than he had expected it to be.

Stiles continued chattering excitedly up until the moment Scott sat down. At a table. With people. Very hot people. Stiles looked down at Scott with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Lydia Martin. Scott was friends with Lydia fucking Martin? How had this not made it into their text messages?!

Scott cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.

"Guys, you remember Stiles, right? Stiles, that's Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Jackson, Boyd, and Erica. Cora normally sits with us but I think she-well, actually I'm not sure where she is today."

Stiles' eyes followed down the line, his face flushing. What the fresh hell? Scott was attractive in a totally platonic, nothing sexual way, and he would be blantantly lying if he said he hadn't noticed how fit he was now, but how the hell did they go from being the lanky dorks in class to Scott having supermodel-esque friends?

He immediately recognized some of the faces. Lydia, obviously. Scary hot blonde and Scott's crush, obviously Allison, from the hallway. Then, if his friends being hot wasn't weird enough, he realized with a start who the thin muscular guy was.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore? As in the Jackson Whittemore who shoved my Batman figure down the toilet?"

Stiles shook his head incredulously at Scott, like he had been personally victimized by the very thought of his seating partner, and Scott buried his face in his hands. Allison laughed, a musical sound that he had heard about in many different phone calls.

"You shoved his Batman down the toilet?"

Jackson smirked, shrugging slightly.

"Poor guy. So you were always a dick," Erica teased, peeking over the lip of her glass of water.

"We were like 6. I'm sure he's fine," Jackson said, leveling Stiles with a less than pitying glare.

Stiles muttered the contrary gruffly under his breath.

"You sure look tasty. Why didn't you tell us he was so fine, Scott?"

Stiles flushed at the blonde's words, not knowing how to comment to that. He looked to Scott for help, but he just shrugged as if to say, "she's always like this."

The man beside Erica, Boyd if Stiles recalled correctly, rolled his eyes, a knowing look on his face. He wrapped his arm around her and whispered something to her that made her giggle in delight, and Stiles was kind of scared to know what he said to make that noise come out of her.

Stiles, shifted back and forth on his feet, still standing awkwardly near the table holding his tray. He looked at the spot beside Scott, unsure. Out of everything he had prepared for today, this definitely wasn't it.

"You going to sit down Stilinski?" Jackson sneered.

"Actually I was thinking of enjoying my food standing up," Stiles shot back, biting into his roll dramatically. "I'd hate for anything else I love to end up in the toilet."

Scott grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him down onto the bench with strength Stiles didn't know he had. He scowled but kept his mouth closed.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Stiles," Allison said. "Scott talks about you a lot. Like a lot a lot."

"Well isn't that a coincidence, because-" Scott jabbed him in the ribs as hard as he could under the table. Allison smiled bashfully and Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Ow! Stupid overnight muscles," Stiles muttered, rubbing his side. "Not fair."

"You know you aren't going to be eligible for Valedictorian or Salutatorian right?" Lydia asked suddenly, clamping her compact mirror shut. "The policy is that you have to be present for the entirety of your Junior and Senior year to qualify."

Stiles shrugged, trying to keep his overeager inner 9 year old self at bay. "Yeah my dad wasn't thrilled about that, but I told him I didn't care. My GPA is all that really matters. Well, that and my SATs and ACTs."

Lydia gave him an adorable half smile. "Its a shame. It will be nice to have some competition around, regardless. Scott says you're quite the diligent student."

Stiles gave Scott a look that he was too busy ogling to notice. That was strange. That was the second time they mentioned Scott talking about him, yet he knew nothing about any of them. "Is that right?"

Lydia quirked her head, looking between the two, and made a mental note of it.

The rest of lunch went by fairly smoothly, but Stiles couldn't really focus on the various conversations going on around the table, too busy trying to figure everyone out. He could tell that obviously Erica and Boyd were a couple, despite the remark about his attractiveness. Even surrounded by friends, and them frequently chatting with other people instead of each other, he could almost see the personal bubble they had around themselves, so thick it was almost tangible.

From what he could see, Allison and Lydia seemed to be best friends. He wasn't exactly surprised, pretty people always seemed to attract other pretty people, but the vibes they gave off were very different. They were constantly having silent conversations between themselves, checking for opinions as they listened to other people's stories and laughing at inside jokes together. Luckily for Scott, he noticed her eyes would stray over to him frequently, especially when he would start to laugh over something silly.

The most interesting observation seemed to be that while Stiles was away, Scott, Jackson and Isaac had gotten pretty close. Stiles didn't really remember much about Isaac, but he seemed nice enough. He was actually a lot like Stiles in that he was fairly smart, sarcastic, and generally nice to be around, but he had a air of newly self-built confidence around him.

Jackson was the opposite, but to Stiles' surprise, he wasn't as bad as he remembered. Jackson exuded cockiness, that he expected, but he could tell that Jackson was a lot less of a jerk than he used to be when he handed the rest of his food to Isaac before he even had the chance to ask for it. Stiles figured he would be the hardest one to understand, because nothing he said was actually what he meant.

Stiles' thoughts were interrupted when Scott tried to reel Stiles into a conversation about lacrosse, but Stiles was contented to listen to the three guys recap the season so far.

Stiles gradually started feeling a bit more comfortable than he had in the beginning, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind: why had Scott told his friends so much about him, yet Stiles was clueless about them? He had heard about Allison, mostly because that was all he talked about, but why hadn't he ever heard of his friendships with the others, especially after Stiles found out he was going to be moving back? They all seemed close. Really, really close. They talked about hanging out on weekends, going to movies, and playing video games all weekend, yet Stiles couldn't remember a single time Scott ever mentioned them.

It was strange. Stiles knew that it was crazy of him to make assumptions from a few passing comments, but something in his gut told him Scott was hiding something.

"Do you have any classes with us?" Isaac asked, holding out his hand expectantly. Stiles shifted so he could pull his schedule from his back pocket and handed it to him. Isaac and Allison looked over it intently, and Jackson snuck a peek, trying and failing to look like he didn't care.

"Chemistry with Scott and Isaac, Math with Scott and Erica, most of the classes with Boyd or Erica if not both, AP classes with Me and Lydia. How did you manage not to have a single class with Jackson?" Allison asked.

"Lucky I guess," Stiles grinned.

Jackson rolled his eyes and Scott elbowed him again. Stiles sucked in air through his teeth and rubbed it until the pain faded. #WorthIt.

"So Scott said your dad is the new Sheriff," Boyd said. It was the first time Boyd had spoken out loud.

"Yeah, he was a deputy here when we lived here before. I guess enough people remembered him from back in the day that when he was nominated, people accepted him."

"Did he tell you how the position opened up?"

Everyone at the table stopped, and eyes were on him. If they were trying to seem subtle, they had definitely failed. Fortunately, though, this Stiles had anticipated. He considered whether he should divulge his true opinions or keep his ideas to himself. After an encouraging nod from Scott, he shrugged.

"Dad told me what they are telling people happened, yeah," he said.

Boyd's flitted to Scott, then he forced a small smile.

"You say that like you don't believe the story."

"I don't."

Boyd looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate. Erica squeezed his arm gently, not tearing her eyes from Stiles, keeping her expression soft. Scott gave him a look and Stiles relented.

Stiles sighed. "My Dad is going to kill me." He looked up to the ceiling as if he were praying for strength to survive. "They are saying it was a mugging or something near the park. That the guy was at the wrong place at the wrong time, got his stuff taken and killed for his trouble."

"That's what I heard too. Sounds reasonable enough, right?" Allison asked, laughing nervously.

Stiles scoffed. "Sure, if he was getting mugged by Wolverine. I haven't seen the crime scene photos yet, but from the conversations I've heard the last few days about the absolute carnage left behind, I don't see how it could be just a simple mugging. They're missing something, they just don't want to admit it yet."

Stiles pretended not to notice Scott tensing beside him. It was no secret Scott wasn't a fan of blood, but he didn't want to embarrass him by pointing it out.

"What does that even mean?" Lydia asked.

"What does what mean?"

"Mugged by Wolverine?"

"Wolverine. You know. X-Men. Wolver-you don't-you don't know who Wolverine is?" Stiles asked, his hands flailing then falling flat on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

She gave him an incredulous look, her perfect curls bouncing as she shook her head. He ran his hand down his face.

Jackson handed Lydia his phone and her lips turned down. "Man in tights. Not bad."

Allison rolled her eyes and the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

"Nice to meet you, again, Stiles," Allison said again, grabbing her bag and pulling it over her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, it was truly a pleasure. I need to borrow your calculator so let's go," Jackson said, ushering her away. Scott huffed beside him, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott was as oblivious as always.

*****

Everything was messed up.

Cora honestly couldn't decide which was worse, living states away with a bunch of strangers that she couldn't get along with to save her life, or finally being able to come home and dealing with all the frivolous drama that came with it.

Don't get her wrong, she was glad that Derek allowed her to come back home. She loved him and she was really glad that finally someone was starting to treat her like an adult, but having to deal with school and her brother's complicated Pack dynamics was stressful.

Being back home was annoying. Living in South America was worse.

Being away from her home, the last bit of family she had left, it had almost killed her. She didn't want to eat. She couldn't sleep. When she did sleep, it was interrupted by nightmares. Often times she would wake up in the dark, thinking the smoke had enveloped her completely. If that weren't enough, she felt more isolated than she had in her whole life. She was the only human in the Pack, which she was used to, but at least when she was home she was bonded with her family.

She sat in the library, head in her hands, trying not to think about all of the homework assignments that were piling up. Derek had said school was one of the conditions to her moving back in with him, but what exactly did that mean? What was he going to do when she got her grades back? Was he going to ship her back off like Laura had? Would he even feel bad?

She sighed. That wasn't fair. Derek had never wanted her to go, but when Laura decided on something, there wasn't really anything anyone could do to change her mind. As much as Cora didn't want to, she was going to have to talk to him. Good thing talking about feelings was a Hale family specialty.

When the bell rang for lunch, she rolled her eyes. As if her brother and his Pack didn't have enough to argue about, Scott's token human friend was supposed to have his first day today. Not that she wasn't curious what all the hype was about, but she didn't understand why Scott was fighting so hard to let his friend in on all their secrets when he was constantly pointing out how dangerous it was to let Cora stay here.

So, just to spite him, she was here, continuing to work on homework she didn't know how to do, and was too stubborn to ask for help with.

Before she knew it, lunch was over with only a little bit of progress to show for it. She walked begrudgingly to Chemistry, knowing that Harris was probably going to pester her about her revisions from their lab the previous week.

Cora walked to her spot, sitting down, dramatically opening her Chemistry book. Her up and coming best friend, Nina, nudged her with her shoulder has she settled in beside her.

"Did you hear there was a new senior?"

"Unfortunately," She replied icily, pulling a snack from her bag. Nina gave her an odd look. She interpreted it as "what the fuck is up with you?" despite the fact that Nina would never actually use those words. "Apparently he's going to be hanging around my brother's group."

"Oh," Nina smirked, knowingly. "The Hot Hale Harem?"

Cora almost choked on her granola bar, making Nina's smirk grow to a full on grin. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You love me."

Cora rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but laugh with her. Nina was different, but she honestly found it kind of refreshing. It was hard for her to remember to think about normal things like boys and shopping, but Nina didn't mind pulling her into her normie girl stuff.

"So, I was thinking," Nina started.

Cora took a deep breath. "No."

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," she pouted.

"Fine. It'll still be a no, but continue."

"So you know how we have that test on Friday? I was thinking we could invite the guys to study with us."

(Find the rest on AO3 href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811303"><strong>The Unshaped</strong></a> (16100 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infernal_panda"><strong>Infernal_panda</strong></a><br />Chapters: 2/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Teen%20Wolf%20(TV)">Teen Wolf (TV)</a><br />Rating: Not Rated<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence<br />Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes<br />Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Peter Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale<br />Additional Tags: BAMF Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pining, Underage Drinking, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, mentions of abuse, eventually, Happy Ending<br />Summary: <p>After leaving Beacon Hills at age 8, Stiles never stopped feeling the indescribable pull, beckoning him back home. A new Sheriff position opening up gives him the chance to move back, and it’s everything Stiles ever wanted. He has his dad, his best friend, and he’s back where he belongs. </p><p>His first day back doesn’t exactly go as planned, and now he is finding that he was even less normal than he thought. </p><p>****</p><p>A Hale Pack fanfic with all of our lovable characters as they try to integrate Stiles into their wolfyhood and crazy monster-filled lives with Stiles as their unknowing magic friend, and a bit of intertwined fates to keep things interesting )