#maybe one or two like stress-y ones which in comparison are completely fine but still not great obviously

[onlythebravest]

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[five-rivers]

Is there any way we could possibly convince you to write more of the Eldritch!Danny au? As it's own phanfic? This, of course, would only be done once you are under considerably less stress, and can comfortably put the effort into that, if there ever could be such a time whilst writing Mortified and Stars Aligned. It could even wait until one or both of those has reached a point that you deem them Completed™. I'm just immediately part of Sam's Cult XD

It’s been a bit, and this is kind of random, but...

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Clockwork’s avatar pressed the food to Danny’s lips, and he bit down, hard.  Juices dribbled down his chin as the food squirmed.  He moaned in something like relief as the pressure in the venom sacs in the roof of his mouth lessened.  He ate.

He kept Dreaming of himself with fangs and venom. Did that mean something?

A cold pressure under his chin forced him to look up.  Clockwork’s avatar inserted another piece of food into Danny’s mouth.  

Of course, it means something, it said. You are such a generous soul that you must give of yourself before you can even do something as basic and vital as eat.

Something about that didn’t sound right, but Danny wasn’t in a position to argue, not when he found himself so hungry.

Clockwork’s avatar fussed over him, feeding him more and more, past the point of mere satiation to the point where he felt bloated and slug-like.  He wanted to curl up and sleep real sleep.  The image of a caterpillar who, having gorged itself, began to form a cocoon, flittered across his mind.  

You are a long way from metamorphosis yet, dear one, said Clockwork’s avatar.  Come.  I have something for you.  

Danny followed the tug of the chained collar around his neck, blinking blearily, his footsteps just a little unsteady.  

The careful direction of the chain led him to a small table cluttered with trinkets.  Clockwork’s avatar leaned down to press its cheek against the crown of Danny’s head.  Its cloak fell to either side of Danny, cutting off his field of view to the left and right, leaving him with only the table and the wall behind it.  

A gift, said Clockwork’s avatar.

“Why?” asked Danny.  It felt odd to speak here, and much more so in English, but he was still learning how to use his True Voice.  

I wanted to give you something myself, before we celebrate your birthday.  

“My birthday is ages away,” said Danny.  

From some perspectives, perhaps.  But we missed so many of yours.  We must make them up before the next one.  

There was something ominous there, but Danny just leaned into the avatar’s touch, unwilling to devote himself to interpreting omens.  

Pick one, said Clockwork’s avatar, pick wisely.  Gifts received in the Dream become part of you.

Danny nodded and opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to look at the trinkets—no, the gifts—again.  Gifts that, like all good gifts, came with strings attached.  

There was something off about that thought.

But it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t as if he could refuse a gift.  

He reached out.  

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He picked the beaded pectoral necklace.  Mostly because he was curious to see how it went on, what with the collar around his neck and all.  Yes, this was the Dream, and multiple things could exist in the same place at the same time, but usually there was an… internal consistency, of sorts.

It turned out the answer was that the necklace merged with the bottom edge of the collar, which felt weird, but it was fine, because both were manifestations of Clockwork’s Love.  

The unfamiliar weight of it hung strangely off his shoulders, especially given the counterweight that hung down his back, and forced him to alter his posture.  He stood straight and… Well.  Not tall. But to his full height.  

Clockwork’s ticking sounded pleased.  An echo of something where Danny’s heart once was agreed with that assessment.  

When he left the Dream and went on with his life, it seemed as if not much had changed, except—

He felt more confident.  More coordinated.  He didn’t stutter as much.  People listened to him more.  

Even Sam and Tucker remarked on it.  

Only a few days later, Clockwork called him back, reeling him into the deep Dream by the chain attached to his collar.  He had another gift for Danny.  A bracelet.  Its weight joined that of the necklace.

Since you seemed to enjoy this so much, said the avatar, running its fingers over the faience beads.  

And so it went.  

Every few days, Clockwork would call him back and give him some new little adornment.  A ring.  A jeweled comb.  An anklet. A brooch.  A belt.  Each gift seemed to smooth away some almost imperceptible flaw in his waking self, seemed to draw more eyes to him, more attention, more praise.  People who would never give him the time of day before actually sought out his company.

He wondered.  Each thing he was given was a display of wealth.  Did that come across, somehow?  Or was it simply gravity, the mass of his presence pulling in their regard?

The improvements weren’t just in his human life. The others were easier to fight, to distract and ward away.  Their blows did not hurt nearly as much, nor did their ‘appearances’ distress him as much as they once had.  

He noticed, too, the weight of what he wore in the Dream.  Each ring, each bauble, made it easier for him to sink into the depths, made it harder for him to reach the surface.  

Sometimes, after a return, he would like on the floor in his room, panting.

But he was growing stronger, too, and he hoped—

It didn’t matter what he’d hoped.  

He could no longer reach the waking world. He tried seven times before the chain, vibrating with amusement, pulled him back to Clockwork.  

We must celebrate, said Clockwork’s avatar, pulling a sort of woven metal sleeve over Danny’s right hand.  It hooked neatly onto the rings on each of his fingers.  

“Why?” asked Danny, barely holding himself back from falling to pieces.  He had a responsibility to Amity Park.  Not to mention, he wanted to live there with his friends and family.  

Because it is a wonderful milestone, that you are too powerful to reach that place on your own.  The avatar placed a crown of knotted metal on Danny’s head.  This is what a cult is for, my little gem.  To pull you up.  

“What if…” said Danny, “I get too… heavy to be pulled up?”  

Another milestone.  

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Except, no, Danny’s hand still hovered over the table, undecided.  He let it fall back to his side and blinked, shaking his head to clear it of the vision that had just overtaken him.  

Did it show what would be, what might have been? Or merely a possibility?  

Reality splintered.

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He put his hand down on a stack of folded white cloth, jostling the bells sewn to the hems.  He didn’t actually know what it was, but it seemed harmless, and the fabric was soft.  

It turned out that the cloth was a set of folded veils.  The bells were weights, to make them hang properly.  

Clockwork’s avatar helped him put them on in front of a mirror, since Danny had never worn anything like them before.  The cloth was thin, diaphanous gauze.  Where the veils touched the clothing he was already wearing, it whispered away, like it never was.  In some places, mostly on his shoulders and back, for some reason, the veils merged smoothly, seamlessly, with his skin.  It was an odd sensation, made more so by the fact that his nerve endings seemed to extend partway into the cloth.  

Although, that might not be by design, but because Danny expected it.  This was the Dream, after all.  

Once all the veils were in place, the only pieces of his body exposed were his hands and bare feet.  It was strange, looking at himself in the mirror through the sheer veils over his face and head.  He almost looked like a ghost.  

It was… it was kind of embarrassing, being dressed like this.  The veils were the only things he was wearing, and even with all their frothy layers, he could make out the silhouette of his body beneath them.  

He spun in place, just enough to hear the bells ring with high, clear tones.  Like this, the subtle embroidery on the veils looked like feathers.  

When he woke again, normal clothes felt rough and coarse against his skin in comparison.  He gritted his teeth and bore it.  He couldn’t very well walk to school in the nude.

“Did something happen last night?” asked Sam, surveying Danny up and down.  

“Um,” said Danny, “yes, but why?”

“You look…”

“Mysterious,” said Tucker.  

“Ethereal,” decided Sam.  “But also…”  She hummed. “Untouchable, maybe?  I don’t know.”

Danny explained what had happened.  

It was in the course of just messing around that they found another effect.  

“Dude,” said Tucker, as Danny sat on his shoulders, “did you lose weight or something?”

“No?” said Danny, turning away from his sticky-note masterpiece on the classroom ceiling.  “At least, I don’t think so.”

“You just seem a lot lighter than the last time we did this.”

They weighed him later, at Sam’s house.  He was.  

The next time he visited the dream, there were changes.  One, the sensation in the cloth had extended.  He could feel almost all the way to the ends of some of the shorter veils. Two, his form beneath the veils was less distinct.  Softer. When he put his hand underneath them to check, his body felt softer, too.  Three, he was glowing.  

Of course, said Clockwork’s avatar, stroking its cold hand down his back in a way that made all of his new nerve endings overload.  As the illusion fades, the truth may shine.  

It did not elaborate, no matter how Danny pressed him.  It did, however, pet him until he was left as little more than a pleasantly chirping puddle of veils and feathers on Clockwork’s floor.  

He did not note the significance of the feathers until his next visit to the Dream, whereupon some of his veils had become wings, bells still attached and ringing with every motion.  He spread them out and flew.  

Flying was even better than he had imagined. Never before had he known such joy.

The changes continued, the form he wore in the waking world becoming progressively more and more alien to him, more grating and uncomfortable.  

“That only makes sense,” said Sam.  “You’re more than us.  Being constrained like this can’t be good for you.”

Tucker nodded in agreement.  “I mean, look at all of this.”

Danny looked around the cafeteria, catching several worshipful gazes.  

“You don’t belong in a cage like this.”

“I want to be able to help,” said Danny.  It had become easier, in some ways.  It was as hard as ever to fight the others, but human aggression stopped dead in Danny’s presence.  

“You’ll still be able to,” said Sam.  “But Tucker’s right, you should be trapped here. You should in a high place… on a pedestal.  Somewhere to give us hope.  Somewhere we can look up to.”

He stood in front of Clockwork’s mirror again. There was a suggestion of a human body beneath the wings, but nothing more than that.  Soon, even that would be gone.  

Even as he thought it, he let his wings shift, forming a more spherical shape.  The light at his center became blindingly bright, but Danny could still see the chains of Love attached to it that kept him grounded.  

One of those chains pulled taught as Clockwork summoned him, not even bothering with the avatar this time.  This time, Danny would be able to talk to Clockwork directly, and it would be fine, because Danny had shed that illusion of humanity and become more like Clockwork.

He entered Clockwork’s direct presence and—

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Danny reeled as the vision simply stopped being something his mind could interpret.  He felt a part of what he called his sanity crumble.  

Perhaps…  Perhaps not that one.  Instead…

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He chose the featureless white mask, lifting it with both hands.  It was surprisingly heavy.

Clockwork’s avatar reached out, the sleeves of its robes whispering past Danny’s ears.  Let me help you put that on, it said.  It took the mask and flipped it over, brushing the broad, white satin ribbon out of the way with its thumbs.  

Before Danny could think to protest, before he could decide if he wanted to protest, the mask was pressed against his face.

The soft inner lining fit perfectly snug against his features.   Perfectly enough that it forced his eyelids and lips closed.  The bottom edge of the mask cupped his jaw, preventing him from opening his mouth.  

He could not see, with the mask on. Somehow, this surprised him.  Part of him had expected to supernaturally be able to see through the mask.  

This was inconvenient.  On the other hand, not being forced to see the Dream and its denizens could be a boon in and of itself.  

Clockwork’s avatar finished tying the ribbon.  When you wear this, only those who know you will know you.  And only those who you keep in place of your may have their knowledge progress.  

Danny tested his ability to speak, first with human words and then with his True Voice.  The best he could manage was a sort of hum.  

I know you best of all.  One cannot progress past completion.  Remember, those who Love you will understand you, even without words.  You will be allowed to remove the mask if it pleases you.  

Danny nodded to show he understood, the weight of the mask making the motion more energetic than usual.  

It took Danny time to learn how to navigate the Dream blind.  The Dream was, well, Dream.  It did not follow the usual rules of object permanence.  Things Danny could not directly perceive existed only at the whims of others.  While he was with Clockwork, he could have faith that things would stay mostly stable, but once he left, his world shrunk to echoes and what lay against his skin.

But when he did finally make it home and opened his eyes, he was able to fully understand what the mask gave him.  

He could not see the nightmares and madness lurking just under reality.  His sight was human.  He turned to his mirror and saw not a monster, but simply his physical body.  

He found himself weeping in relief.  It had been so hard.  Even if it was an illusion bought by ignorance, for the first time in far too long, he felt safe, no longer exposed.  

Whether or not it pleased him, he might never take the mask off.  

He walked to Jazz’s room to tell her the good news, only to discover he could not speak.  

After some experimentation, Danny and Jazz determined that, when he wore the mask, his speech was as constrained in the real world as it was in the Dream.  If he wanted to talk, he had to slip into the Dream to take it off.  

It was inconvenient, but still.  A perfectly hidden identity and relief from seeing were more than worth inconvenience.  

With the mask on, he almost felt human again.

Before the school day began, he paused in the bathroom and braced himself.  He had gotten away with being quiet at home, but at school, teachers would require him to answer questions.  

He stepped into the Dream and reached up to untie the knot at the back of his head.  It would not come loose.  Danny pulled harder.  

If it pleased him.  

Well, it didn’t please him to be exposed in school.  Beyond that… Danny suspected that Clockwork also had a hand in when he was allowed to remove the mask.  

A few weeks later, the school psychiatrist diagnosed him with selective mutism.  

“It almost makes sense,” claimed Tucker, gesturing at Danny’s ceiling, “if you think of it like a parent keeping their kid safe on the internet.  Like, you don’t want their identity exposed, so you keep them from giving away personal information or talking to strangers.”

“That,” said Sam, poking Danny’s cheek, “or he wants your cute little face all to himself.  What do you even look like in the Dream?”

“Like me,” said Danny.  He raised a hand to touch his face.  “I don’t know what I look like with the mask on.”  The words came surprisingly easily.  Before the mask, he’d worried that he’d eventually be unable to speak English, what with how difficult it was becoming to translate his thoughts to sounds.

Later that day, there was an incident.  Danny couldn’t help.  He couldn’t see.  

(It was, however, very clear that the others could see him.)

(He couldn’t help but feel guilty.)

That night, Clockwork pulled him into the Dream.

There is someone I want you to meet, said Clockwork’s avatar as its fingers untied the mask.  

“Who?” asked Danny as the mask came away.  He nearly forgot his question as he once again took in Clockwork’s appearance.  He had forgotten how beautiful it was here.  Tears rolled down his face.  

Your brother, said the avatar, gently leading Danny forward.  I think you will get along.  You both like masks.  

It took a few minutes for Danny to distinguish this new presence from Clockwork’s, but once he did, the name came easily to his mind.  This was Nocturne, the Dream Eater.

“Why is your mask different from mine?” asked Danny, because he couldn’t make a good first impression to save his life.  

The mouth and eyes on Nocturne’s mask turned upward in humor.  It plucked Danny’s mask from the hands of Clockwork’s avatar, and, to Danny’s simultaneous horror and delight, Danny discovered that he could feel Nocturne’s claws on the mask as if they were on his face instead.  

That is because it is your face, said Nocturne, the one you show the world.  Why wouldn’t you feel it when it is touched?  When it is damaged?  Nocturne ran his fingers down across the space where eye holes would have been in an ordinary mask, and Danny found himself forced to blink.  For the other, it is because you are a child.  I see and speak for myself.  A child sees the world through their parent’s eyes.  A child has no voice, but their parent speaks for them.  

“Will it change when I get older?” asked Danny.

Nocturne laughed.  You will not grow older.  He moved forward suddenly, pressing the mask to Danny’s face, and putting one of his other hands against the back of Danny’s head.  You will always be the youngest of us.  The most… Human.

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Is something wrong? asked Clockwork’s avatar.

“No,” said Danny, quickly.  “It’s just hard to decide.”

You could have them all, it said, if it is so difficult.  

Danny shook his head.  “No, I just need more time.”

Maybe if Danny were human, this would be about getting the best deal, choosing the gift with the lowest price, but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t.  This was about choosing the price he wanted to pay.  

It surprised him, how much he wanted to pay some of them.  

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The set of bracelets clinked merrily when Danny touched them.  They were four bands, each about two inches wide and a couple millimeters thick.  The metal they were made of was smooth on the outside, but on the insides, they had the same fractal patterns as the collar.

The manacles are a good choice, said Clockwork’s avatar, approvingly.  

Manacles.

Not bracelets.  

Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was allowed to change his mind.  

The manacles went around his wrists and ankles, each one closing with a snap.  When they shut, the metal they were made of swirled, the hinges and seams disappearing to present a flawless surface and the overall shape shifting so the inside laid flush against his skin.  

As soon as he closed the last one, and it finished altering itself, Danny felt a sharp pain through the center of his wrists and ankles, followed by a radiating numbness, as if a rod had been driven through each manacle, through each wrist and ankle, stopping only when it hit the other side.  But the numbness soon faded, and as he flexed his hands and feet, he didn’t feel anything like that.  

Still.  The message was clear.  The metal bands were not coming off.  

Clockwork’s avatar took one of Danny’s hands, and examined the band.  The metal, which had warmed against Danny’s skin, turned frigid under the avatar’s touch. For a moment, Danny’s vision blurred, and he saw a multitude of delicate chains leading from the manacle in every direction, connecting it to Clockwork, the other manacles, the collar around his neck and who knew what else.  His vision cleared.  A few long, silent minutes later, the avatar released him.  

They were made with much skill.  I hope you find them useful.  

Danny nodded.  

The manacles weren’t visible in the waking world, but Danny imagined he still felt them.  Especially when he was doing things with his hands or feet.  

‘Made with skill,’ indeed.  

Lots of skills.  Skills like drawing, writing, dancing, sign language.  He didn’t trip or stumble any more but moved smoothly.  It was interesting.  It didn’t feel like the skills belonged to someone else.  They were his, now, wherever they had originally come from.  He knew how to do each thing he was doing, and he did them intentionally.  

Still, his art (which he had always considered at least decent) was now scary good.  He’d also outplayed Ember on the piano a few days back, breaking her hold on the people who had been listening.  She’d been… rather upset about that.  

It was worth it.  

The string attached to the gift didn’t make itself known for a while.  One day, while he was drawing, his wrists burned cold, and he found himself drawing something more than what he’d originally intended.  The general subject was the same, but the skill put into it, the effort, was far, far greater.  He’d meant to doodle a little, maybe for ten or so minutes before he went to bed.  

Instead, it was hours later and if it wasn’t on the back of his French homework the drawing could have been hung in a museum.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to imagine that he was being puppetted, controlled, that the manacles made him into a marionette, but that wasn’t what it felt like.  Instead, it felt as if something had flipped a switch inside him.  

He understood, then.  The manacles granted him skills, but he couldn’t always decide when to use them.  Or how much.

It wasn’t the last time it happened.  He’d suddenly be seized with the urge to do something.  Make use of some skill.  And whatever he did when those urges settled over him was inhumanly good.  Dangerously good.  As in, attracting the wrong kind of attention good.  

Those men in suits had been there for him, and he was quite certain that, if he had been perceptible to people foreign to Amity Park, they would have tried to take him.  Tried, being the operative word.  

More importantly, the mural he’d been compelled to paint on the side of the supermarket last night seemed to be attracting a following.  He’d attempted to keep elements of the others out of it, but he knew they somehow slipped through, slipped past his attention, and into his art.  

Sam and Tucker thought it was fine, though. He was inclined to trust them.  

He was glad that the manacles did not seem to infer any violent or deadly skills.  He wasn’t what he would do if they did and the urge to act turned into an urge to harm.  

The manacles turned cold.  

Perhaps he’d bake a cake.  Something for Sam and Tucker, as a thanks for putting up with him.

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Danny slumped against Clockwork’s avatar, who held him without complaint.  These visions were mentally draining.  They would be, what with containing weeks compressed into seconds.  

Were they seconds?

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The picture frame caught Danny’s eye.  It was a picture of him, as an infant, being held by Clockwork’s avatar, the great expanse of Clockwork himself in the background. Danny wasn’t quite sure he knew the picture was of himself.  Really, he’d been a generic-looking baby.  But he did know.  

He took the picture.  

Nothing happened.  He went home, woke up, and went about his normal life.  On occasion, he would look at the picture when he dropped into the Dream.  It warmed something in him.

It took him a month to realize he was aging backwards.  

To be fair, no one else seemed to notice, either, even though the change was much more rapid than normal forward aging.  Danny suspected they were being blocked from noticing.  

No, that wasn’t quite right.  They treated the age he appeared as the normal state of things, but they also treated him as if he were his apparent.  Something which had bothered him all last week, even if he didn’t realize why it was happening.  

It made it slightly more embarrassing that he himself had only noticed when he’d gone to retrieve a cup from the top shelf in the cabinet and couldn’t because he was too short.  

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were confused when he brought it up to them.  They seemed to be under the impression that he’d always been a few years younger than Sam and Tucker.  That he’d been skipped forward a few years to be in the same class as them.  Danny had let the subject drop.  He had no idea how to even begin fixing this.  If it even could be fixed.  

Every day, as he got younger and younger, he also seemed to attract more and more attention.  Positive attention.  People would smile at him, tell him he was cute, give him presents out of nowhere. Danny couldn’t say he hated it.  

Until he got small enough for people to carry around. Which they did.  Frequently.  Without asking for permission.  Even this wasn’t so much of a problem.  

Until the cult.  

Until the knife.

Until the sacrifice.  

(And Clockwork was so thrilled to be able to raise him from infancy.)

.

He hadn’t decided yet.  

How could he decide?  They were amazing gifts.  Terrifying gifts.  Gifts he could not refuse.  Gifts he didn’t want to refuse, at least on some level.  

But this wasn’t about what he wanted.  It was about what he could live with.  

The pectoral gave him power and the respect of his peers but took away his ability to use those things in the defense of Amity. Although being powerful in the Dream was an idea that tickled at the shadows in Danny’s mind.

The veils gave him something he always wanted – flight – but at the cost of his humanity and individuality.  

The mask would protect him, let him hide and return to a mostly ordinary life, but he would lose the chance to face his new existence on his own terms as well as some of his autonomy.  Not to mention, his ability to actually help his people.

The manacles gave him skills he’d enjoy, but also made him a hazard for others.  

The picture frame…  Something twinged inside Danny’s chest… The picture frame gave him a new life with Clockwork, from the very beginning.  But he’d lose everything else and kickstart an unmanageable cult.

He couldn’t give up his friends, his family, his human life.  He couldn’t give up his ability to protect Amity.  Perhaps all those things would fade from importance in his mind as he became more and more other, but for now they were razor sharp.  That made his choice clear.  

“The manacles,” he mumbled to Clockwork’s avatar. He could work around the drawbacks (even if part of him resisted the notion that the drawbacks were drawbacks).

The avatar stroked Danny’s hair.  An excellent choice.

“How,” said Danny, trying to recollect his thoughts, “how do they work?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered as he saw the chains on the manacles again.  The way they felt on his skin was just like what he remembered.  

Skills that go unused are lost in the Dream. These find them and bring them to you, bind them to you, so they are never lost again.  Clockwork’s avatar plucked one of the chains.  It felt as if someone had traced their fingers possessively up one of his arms.  Although some of the chains have other functions.  It nuzzled Danny as something deep below in Clockwork’s depths began to chime.  One can never be too connected to those they Love.  

Danny woke in his bed and moaned.  His pillow was wet with drool.  Evidently, he had left his body behind this time.  That happened, on occasion, when he went to the Dream. He was never sure how he felt about it.

He raised his hands up above his head.  As expected, the manacles were not visible, but he did feel more… connected to the world around him.  Being connected was good.  It meant that what happened before wouldn’t happen again.  It meant that he wouldn’t be lost.  

He lowered his hands, clasping them over where his heart would have, should have been.  

The connections, though, were mostly to Clockwork, who was as inhuman as any of the others Danny protected Amity Park from. Should that bother him?  He thought of what Nocturne had said in the other timeline, the one where he had chosen the mask.  He’d known, already, that as much as Clockwork protected him, he also kept him in a state where he needed that protection.  Wasn’t it natural?  Wasn’t it the desire to keep Loved ones close?

His breath hitched as he briefly felt the soothing mental weight of Clockwork’s Love increase.  

It was fine, wasn’t it?

[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On IV (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!💕 I don’t even know how I managed to finish this with the crazy week I’ve had💀 I had 3 exams, a huge paper to hand in and a presentation. But somehow, I did this too and I wanted to post it as soon as possible🥰 I’m quite happy of how this one turned out considering I hadn’t that much time to work on it. So I hope you like it!♥️ There’s not many parts left (2 or 3) but I have an idea for a “sequel” so if you guys like this one, maybe when it’s done I’ll work on that!

Now enjoy, stay safe and enjoy the holidays, even if this year isn’t the best one for celebrations😅 See you soon🥰 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, angst, implied Hvitserk x Reader, don’t kill me for this lol

Words: 4179 (I’m sorry)

Move On   II    III

gifs belong to @therealcalicali​ and @honestsycrets​

You actually liked to go shopping. You enjoyed walking around the shops and looking at beautiful clothes and shoes. You didn't like to try on the clothes, though, because the comparisons between the model on the photos and you were awful. 

"Aren't you gonna try that on, Y/N?"

Torvi's voice startled you. She just got out of one of the fitting rooms, wearing a beautiful silver dress that made her look even better than the model. You widened your eyes. 

"I... Don't think this will fit me" you glanced at the clothes they made you pick. Party clothes; tight dresses, short skirts, low cut crop tops... "I'm more of a comfy sweatpants and oversized hoodies girl" you raised an eyebrow. 

Torvi chuckled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. 

"Come on, Y/N, I want to see how you look on them!"

She looked at herself on the mirror, frowning softly. You looked at the pile of clothes on the wooden table and wondered why you agreed to go shopping with Torvi, Gunhild and Lagertha when you could be at home, eating cookies and watching Disney movies with Hvitserk. 

They insisted on going shopping and then go and grab lunch. As you barely had any social life anymore, you thought it'd be a great idea. Then they entered one of those expensive shops that you could only admire from afar and glare with jealousy to the people that exited the store with a couple of bags. 

"Okay, I think this is the one" Torvi shrugged happily "What do you think?" She turned around and you smiled softly. 

"You look beautiful" 

"Thank you" her smile widened "You're the sweetest, Y/N"

"Are you girls done?" Lagertha's voice startled you, her head peeked through the door. 

"Nearly" Torvi winked at her "What do you think about this dress? Y/N likes it" 

"I think you look perfect on it" Lagertha smiled at her ex daughter in law. You were still amazed with the narrative of that family, but it wasn't your place to judge "What about you, Y/N? Did you try anything?" 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Torvi interrupted you. 

"She didn't, I keep telling her she should, but she won't listen" she raised an eyebrow and you groan, rubbing your face. 

"Come on, we're not leaving until you try something on" Lagertha chuckled. 

Sighing, you rubbed your face and grabbed the clothes, rolling your eyes as you entered the fitting room, making Torvi and Lagertha smirk in victory. 

_________________________________________

"So... We could go out" Torvi looked excited as you stared at your lunch. You had nothing against modern, expensive restaurant but you weren't sure if it was legal that they asked that amount of money for that. 

"We're already out, Torvi" Gunhild chuckled. Out of all of them, she was the one you could relate to the most, she was the most calm, the quiet, but also as fierce as Lagertha if not more. 

"I know" Torvi rolled her eyes "But maybe we should go out to a nightclub, you know, I haven't been out in forever and I want to, this whole 'plan the perfect wedding' thing is stressing me out" 

"You don't need to plan the perfect wedding, every wedding is perfect when you're in love" Lagertha raised her cup of champagne softly, and you chewed at your food slowly. 

"I know, I know, I just... Ubbe is the one, you know?" 

"We know, Torvi" Gunhild smiled widely at her "But you see... My own wedding with Björn was quite rushed, and still... Magical" she blushed softly, looking down. 

You smiled, remembering her wedding. You had attended with Ivar, who wasn't too excited to go to his half-brother's wedding and was nearly obligated by his family. The two of you left very early, but not before having sex on the limousine Björn had rented. 

"I know you will have the same thing with Ubbe, I can see it" Lagertha caressed Torvi's hand over the table.

"Okay stop getting emotional, I know what you're doing" she narrowed her eyes at them "Can we go out, please?" 

They laughed, and even you chuckled softly.

"Y/N, I trust you, don't leave me alone" she pouted at you "Tonight?" 

"I'm afraid I work tonight" you smiled apologetically "But you all can go out! I'm sure you'll have a better time without me" 

"No, we need you" she sighed "Tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, I suppose tomorrow is fine..."

"Perfect!" She giggled. 

"I'm afraid my time on nightclubs is already over, girls" Lagertha laughed "But I wish you have a great time, enjoy your youth" 

"I think I can" Gunhild nodded "But I'll leave early" 

Torvi looked satisfied. 

"Okay, I can call Sigurd's new girlfriend too" 

"Sigurd has a girlfriend?" You raised an eyebrow. You didn't know anything, but as you barely talked to him due to his bad relationship with Ivar, it didn't surprise you. 

"Yeah, I met her when we had dinner with them to tell them about the wedding... She's cute, and nice... It looks like our dear Sigurd finally settled down... Ubbe was relieved to hear about her, he was really worried that the rockstar life was too much for him" 

Even Sigurd, the now semi-famous musician that girls pursued after his gigs, the soft and sweet Sigurd that had had nearly as many girls as Hvitserk, had settled down. He had an stable relationship. You, on the other hand, had a shitty job and spent your nights watching Disney movies. 

You kept eating as Torvi talked about her favorite clubs, trying to decide which one was more suitable for a girls' night. But suddenly, someone entering the restaurant, and your eyes widened. Torvi stopped talking and Lagertha raised an eyebrow, turning her head to look at the door. 

Of all the people you'd think you might run into on a posh restaurant, Aslaug wasn't one of them. She looked as beautiful and flawless as always, with her hair tied on an elegant bun and her subtle makeup that made her pretty eyes stand out. Ivar had his father's eye color, but the shape was much more similar to his mother's. They resembled each other, and it made your stomach turn. 

She looked around the restaurant, and when her eyes found yours, she looked surprised. An strange expression crossed her face, but she flashed you a sweet smile. Aslaug seemed cold and distant to most people, but to you she was always sweet and caring, treating you like the daughter she always wanted but never got. 

Her smile turned a bit stern when she looked at Lagertha and Torvi, ignoring Gunhild. Then she turned to the bar, smiling politely at the waitress. 

Then the eyes turned to you. You cleared your throat nervously and avoided them. It was true that, out of Ivar's family, the only people you had a close relationship with were Hvitserk, Aslaug, Floki and Helga, and sometimes Ubbe, even if that changed when he decided to get closer to his half brother and Lagertha. Now things had changed, and you still felt a bit out of place in this new social circle Alfred had introduced to you, but your link to the "enemy" was much stronger. 

"I... I'm going to say hello" you muttered. 

No one said anything, and you nearly felt sick. When you arrived to the bar, Aslaug was talking to a man next to her. You hadn't even realized he walked in after her, like her favored son, she had the gift of making everyone aware of only her presence by just walking in a room. 

"Hi, Aslaug"

She turned to face you, her face lightened up and her smile widened. This time it reached her eyes. 

"Y/N, my sweet girl, hello" she hugged you tightly, and you sighed, hugging her back. You missed her "I was wondering if you'd say hello... How are you, my dear?" 

"I'm fine" you nodded "How are you?" 

"I'm good, honey, I'm so happy to see you, I was worried when you..." She licked her lips, nervously "I called you a couple of times, but you didn't pick up" 

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that... I kind of neglected my phone for a few weeks" 

"I understand" she nodded. If anyone in the world understood exactly how you felt, it was Aslaug "I truly do, Hvitserk has been talking to me about you, I'm glad you haven't completely cut off communications with my family, we need you" 

"Of course" you giggled "Hvitserk is one of my closest friends, and that won't change" 

I hope, you thought. You kind of felt very replaceable. 

"I'm glad to see you" she repeated, the smile never left her lips "Remember you will always be welcome in our home, Y/N"

"Thank you, Aslaug" you nearly teared up "I think I should go back now..."

"Yeah, go and have fun, dear" she caressed your cheek softly, not even mentioning the people you were with "Goodbye"

"Bye, have a good day" you shot her another wide smile. 

______________________________________________

Thora looked impressed when you arrived to the cafeteria with Torvi, Lagertha and Gunhild. She was polite to them, but it was obvious that she was surprised to see you hanging out with them. 

'Wow' was the only thing she said once they left, making you promise you'd wear the dress you had bought that morning to the club the night after.

"Don't even mention it" you groaned, rubbing your face as the both of you got ready to start your shift. 

"I didn't take you for someone that had brunch with these people" Thora held back a laugh, and you hit her arm playfully. 

"They're really nice" you muttered "They're just trying to make me feel better" 

"Yeah, they seem nice, but... Are you sure you fit in that group, Y/N?" She raised an eyebrow "Don't get offended, but I never pictured you in there"

"No, I don't" you sighed "As I'm seeing Alfred now, I suppose they see me like one of them" 

"You're seeing..."

"Not like that" you glared at her "Shut up, we're just friends" 

This time she didn't hold back the laugh. 

"I went on a date with Hvitserk" she cleared her throat, and you looked up at her again, interested. 

"And?" 

"Nothing, he's just not my type" she shrugged, making you groan.

"He likes you, I know it" you winked at her. 

Thora shook her head. 

"Hvitserk is the kind of man that likes everyone" she laughed "It's okay, he's nice and fun, but not what I'm looking for... I have another date tonight, though, with a guy I met on Tinder" 

"You're on Tinder?" You frowned as you kept drying the coffee cups. 

"Yes, and you should too" she giggled when you widened your eyes at her "Come on, Y/N, you're young, hot and cute, stop thinking about a boy that didn't appreciate you, you deserve to spend your nights having orgasms, not chocolate ice-cream" 

"But I like chocolate ice-cream" you muttered.

"More than orgasms?" She chuckled, and just when you were about to answer, she interrupted you "Don't answer, you're weird" she rolled her eyes. 

Hvitserk surprised you at the end of your shift with a bag full of beers. He had brought his car and offered you a late night with beer, chips and reality shows. As it was probably the best plan you could have, you said yes, and opened one of the beers even before entering the car. You saw Hvitserk glance at Thora as she stayed to close the cafeteria and wait for her date, chatting with a girl she knew from university that visited her at work. 

"You should work a bit for it" you said, raising an eyebrow at him as he drove to your home with a poker face. 

"She's not interested" he shrugged. As Hvitserk wasn't used to having girls reject him, it had hurt his pride.

"But you can make her interested if you do things right" you chuckled "You Lothbrok boys are always waiting for girls battling their eyelashes at you" 

Hvitserk laughed. 

"You're right, what can I say? I'm surprised you didn't battle your eyelashes at me yet" 

"I was busy with your brother, Hvitty" you giggled "Until he got tired of me"

Hvitserk's smile faded slowly, and as soon as he could, he put his hand on your thigh, turning to look at you. 

"How are you, Y/N?" 

"I'm fine, it's okay" you muttered, shrugging "I saw your mother today" 

"Yeah she told me" he nodded, his attention back to the road "She also asked me not to say anything to Ivar" he sighed "It's because she doesn't like Freydis, she came home for dinner the other day and I could swear she would have loved to sink the knife on her neck" he held back a smile. 

God, you loved Aslaug. 

"Why? What happens with Freydis that no one likes her?" You asked, curious.

"You've seen them together, haven't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, briefly... Alfred and I left immediately, I barely talked to them" 

"Ivar is infatuated with her" he sighed "He's lost his mind, Y/N, he's not even rational now, his whole world is Freydis, it's not love, it's... I'm worried about him" he frowned "He's changing, he can't see anything past her" 

"Have you tried to talk to him? Maybe he needs a bit of big brother guidance"

"I can't talk to him, he's... He doesn't listen. No matter what I tell him, he doesn't trust me"

"Ivar has a hard time trusting people" you said softly "Maybe..."

"Don't defend him" he glared at you "I know what you mean, but he's known her for a few months, Y/N, and he's pushing away every single person that was important to him, he's not even going to physical therapy anymore" 

You frowned a bit. Ivar hated therapy, but he always understood he needed to do it. Suddenly you felt the need of texting him.

"Stop worrying about him, Y/N" Hvitserk narrowed his eyes "It's my job to worry about him because he's my little brother, but you can forget about him now" 

When you arrived home, Hvitserk went directly to the kitchen to heat up the sandwiches you had taken from the cafeteria and put the beers in the fridge as you entered your bedroom, sighing tiredly. 

"I'm going to take a shower" you raised your voice, and after Hvitserk hummed, probably with his mouth full of food, you entered the bathroom, closing the door and taking off your clothes. 

The warm water relaxed your body and you were able to finally stop thinking, leaving your mind completely blank. 

It didn't last, though. 

As soon as you left the shower, you unlocked your phone, looking for Ivar's contact. The last text messages you had exchanged were from the last days of your relationship. Ivar didn't like to text, so he usually only replied with monosyllables and then called you to hear your voice, but in those last weeks he hadn't even replied. In that moment, you had tried to convince yourself that it was normal, that he might hadn't feel like texting you, but then he had broken up with you. Scrolling down the messages, you could tell exactly the day he had realized he wasn't in love with you anymore -if he had ever been in love, which you started to doubt-. You let your throat ache and a couple of tears run down your cheek before wiping them away and writing the message you had in mind. 

Hi Ivar. Are you okay? 

You didn't think he'd reply. But after hearing people saying how weird Ivar was acting (even more than the usual) and how Freydis had changed him, you started to wonder if he was okay. No matter how much he hurt you, he was still someone you cared deeply about. 

A knock on the bathroom door startled you. 

"Y/N? Are you alive?" Hvitserk sounded a bit worried as he knocked on the door. You cleared your throat and dried the few tears on your face. 

"Yes! Sorry! I'll be out in five!"

____________________________________

The beers didn't last as long as you thought. It was past midnight when Hvitserk convinced you to open the bottle of vodka you had bought months ago and already forgot why. 

It resulted on a blurry night, as the both of you started feeling more and more happy, you watched stupid movies and laughed at them. You forgot about Ivar, the text and the ache in your chest. Hvitserk was the only one that could make you forget everything and laugh so much. 

"Come on, that never happens" Hvitserk groaned, rubbing his eyes with his voice already a bit unsteady. The brothers had a high alcohol tolerance, but Hvitserk was always the one that got drunk first "The girl never runs back to us, we're the ones that have to chase them" 

You giggled drunkenly, hitting his arm. 

"Yeah, we have to make you work for it"

He rolled his eyes, drinking directly from the bottle now. 

"It's always easier to go out to a pub and have sex with another girl" 

You giggled again. For some reason, every single thing he said felt like the funniest thing ever. 

"Yeah, we can do that too" you smirked "For example, as you don't want to work for Thora, she's now out on a date and probably having sex with another guy while you're in my apartment getting drunk and criticizing terrible movies... Who's losing now?" You raised an eyebrow, smiling in victory. Hvitserk frowned and glared at you as you laid back on the couch. 

"Are you saying I should go out and find someone to have sex with?" 

"No" you giggled "I'm saying you should call Thora tomorrow" 

"Anyway" he scoffed again "You should be the one going out to have sex" 

"Me?" You laughed "Why?"

"When was the last time you had an orgasm, Y/N?" 

You closed your eyes and pressed your fingers against your temple. It was hard to think when you had that... Noise in your head. 

"I can't remember" you muttered "Probably before..." You hummed. He knew what you meant. 

"What?" He widened his eyes, and his jaw dropped "It's been months, Y/N, what the hell?" He groaned "You didn't even touch yourself?"

You were so drunk that you didn't even flinch at his question.

"I don't have time for that" you frowned. 

"Well, now I know why you're always pouting and looking like a lost puppy"

You opened your eyes to glare at him, even if you only saw a blurry bulge on the other side of your couch. 

"I don't pout" you scoffed "And I'm just not ready to get to know someone new, Hvitty"

"You don't have to know them, you just need to fuck them" he shrugged "It works, you know, it helps to move on... In fact, this is what you should do; you should go out, pick someone, take them to my flat and fuck them on Ivar's bed" 

You couldn't help the burst of laugher that brought tears to your eyes. Hvitserk looked amused. 

"I'm serious, that should teach that asshole a fucking lesson, he needs it" 

"I miss him" you muttered when the laughter died down "I texted him" 

You couldn't see it, but Hvitserk sighed and rubbed his eyes. He moved then, startling you when he laid down next to you, hugging you softly. It made you smile. 

"You need to stop, Y/N" he whispered then, and the lump in the throat came back "You really need to move on, you're amazing, and there's so many people in the world that deserves you much more than my stupid brother"

"I know" you sighed "But I want him" 

Hvitserk hummed. He knew the feeling. He also knew you'd get over it, with time, but now it was difficult. 

"That's why you need to go out there and enjoy your youth, Y/N" he drank from the bottle again, making you laugh "Get drunk, have sex and stop living like you're fifty and getting over your second divorce"

"Sounds easy when you say it" you giggled turning around to face him. 

"You just need to do it" he muttered. Your eyelids already felt heavy, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Ivar. You didn't even know why, Ivar and Hvitserk didn't really look alike, but in that moment you saw him, his deep blue eyes staring at you, his pouty lips, his cute nose... Even that nervous expression he had whenever the two of you were alone. Your heart started beating faster and faster, and you felt his arms around you. You could even smell him. Oh, gods, you missed him so much. You would give anything, your own life, just to be able to kiss him again, even if it was for the last time. 

So you just leant in and kissed him. 

He kissed you back, but that kiss didn't feel like Ivar's... This one was much more rushed, it was good but... It lacked Ivar's passion and intensity. It wasn't the same. 

Anyway, you kept kissing him, as his hands roamed up and down your body. You might knew you were kissing Hvitserk, but decided to ignore it. Maybe he was right and you just needed someone to move on. 

_______________________________________

Ivar just glared at his phone. He had been glaring at it for the past two hours, since Freydis left, saying she was meeting some friends that night. Then he checked his phone and he nearly dropped it when he saw your name on his screen. Why were you texting him now? He thought you hated him. It was easier that way. 

He rubbed his face, groaning and laying back on his bed. His legs hurt so much that day... No matter how many painkillers he had taken, how much he rested. He was feeling like someone just ran over him with a truck. 

Hvitserk didn't come home either. Not that it made a difference. The long nights they spent drinking cheap beer and talking about family and life were long forgotten. They weren't as close now. He was probably fucking someone he just met, or getting drunk. Did he mention he'd go to your house to see you? Maybe. Ivar had stopped listening whenever your name came up, trying to avoid that rage he felt the last time he saw you, getting all cozy and giggly with Alfred. The fucking Alfred. 

You always insisted he was only a friend, but he knew better, if he hadn't left you for Freydis, you'd probably have ended up leaving him for Alfred. He was better for you anyway. 

Hi Ivar. Are you okay? 

Why did you care? Were you thinking about him and suddenly wanted to know if he was okay? Did anyone say anything to you? 

He had to hold back a smile when he saw your profile picture. It was you in Iceland, hugging one of the huskies Floki had on his house in Skógar. Freki, the husky you had fallen in love with, was infatuated with you, too, and Ivar found very amusing how he would follow you anywhere, trying to get your attention. It reminded him of himself, actually, annoyed when you diverted your attention to something that wasn't him. Ivar had a serious talk with the dog, explaining him that he wasn't allowed to get into bed with you, let alone cuddle you in your sleep, the only living being that could do that was Ivar.

He took that picture one morning you decided to take Freki for a walk. The husky had been so excited to see you that he had knocked you down to the floor, making you laugh. The picture had you looking at the camera, hugging Freki as he tried to lick your cheek. 

When he locked his phone again, the warm tingling on his chest disappeared. It made him sigh, closing his eyes. Freydis was perfect, wasn't she? She was beautiful, sweet, she loved him. She made him understand he was special, that he needed no one but her. 

She was perfect. She was the one, and she loved him as much as he did, she always said it. At least a few times a day, she smiled sweetly and said that she loved him, so that meant she loved him, right? You didn't say it that much. But then again, you would have never left him alone knowing he was in pain. 

Shaking his head, he unlocked his phone again and wrote a quick text. 

Yeah, thanks. 

Then he deleted your number. He didn't want to see that photo with Freki, smiling at him, he didn't want to think about you or about what you would have done. You weren't part of his life anymore. 

Tags: @mblaqgi​ @alicedopey​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hallowed-heathen​ @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @captstefanbrandt​ @love-hate-love​ @titty-teetee​ @readsalot73​ @moondustmemories​ @thevikingsheaux​ @therealcalicali​ @blushingskywalker​ @awkwardfangirl02​ @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @eteramfools​ @tgrrose​ @flokidottirsstuff​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ @fantasydevil2002​ @xceafh​ @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ @destynelseclipsa​ @poisonous00​ @littlebear423​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @soleil-dor​ @geekydane-post​ @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800​

I hope I didn’t forget anyone :( if I did please tell me

[exquisitley-obsessed]

We’re Leaving (Carlisle Cullen x Reader)

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: The already infatuated Carlisle Cullen and reader are faced with their next challenge, but this time the danger is within their own family. Edward needs his father as he pulls away from Bella over the course of NEW MOON, but this means Carlisle must make the choice between his own happiness and that of his son’s. No matter what he chooses, someone’s going to get hurt.

Word Count: long

Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: Heartbreak, abandonment, sex, drug abuse

A/N: Technically this is a fourth part of my ‘Dinosaur and the Vampire’ series however you don’t need to read it to understand. Plus, in my head this part functions better as a oneshot.

Dinosaur and the Vampire:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

Y/n gasped, the pain was rippling from her chest now, ricocheting through her muscles as she collapsed on her bedroom floor. She could already guess his next words.

‘We’re leaving.’

***

The past couple of months had been glorious. Following the disaster that was the ending to y/n’s junior year where she somehow managed to get tangled up in a high speed car chase with a vampire named Victoria (who had promptly taken her hostage in order to track down y/n’s best friend Bella) - things had begun to look up.

Her infatuation with the town’s local medi-hero Carlisle Cullen had surprisingly taken off, after of course he revealed himself of being a 300 year-old vampire who had a taste for bunnies. Most days she met up with him at his mansion in her brand-new white Ford Bronco, that which Carlisle had bought specifically to save her life and, following the destruction of her own car, decided to gift her - that was an interesting conversation with her parents. 

Of course that accident hadn’t just left her with a beautiful new mechanic baby but also some battle scars. The largest of which was a crescent white line arching over her left brow, not to mention the faded lines circling her waist. Her arms had healed up nice enough, the rope had caused them to double in size as blue and green bruises splotched on the surface for the first few weeks but they eventually died down. The story went that after being in a lot of stress and anxiety y/n had lost sight of the road and crashed into a car and it was stunning how no one thought to question it.

It was difficult being around her personal doctor for the first few days after the crash. So often would she catch him staring mournfully at her scar and bound hands, evidentially blaming himself for her battered state. Y/n spent most of the time convincing him she was fine and reminding him that she would go through so much worse to be where she was today.

And where she was, was a few weeks into her affair, unbeknown to all apart from Carlisle’s family and Bella. Together, Carlisle and her would often circle around the endless abyss of wood and glass that was the Cullen house, or drift up and down the small forest of a garden they had out back. Talking, always talking.

Carlisle was fascinated by every aspect of her previously thought mundane life. She could watch as he made mental notes of her favourite bands and books, what colleges she wanted to go to, her dream job. Y/n so often hated talking about herself but only because she felt that her life paled in comparison to that of Carlisle’s. He had of course explained his entire existence to her, right from its origins in 17th century London, and yet there was still so much he mentioned off-hand that left y/n floored.

Of course with the cat being out the bag, y/n’s and Bella’s friendship felt like it was flourishing for the second time. Now Bella was able to be honest with why she had been so distant, she didn’t have to lie when she explained the intensity of her and Edward’s relationship or why she kept disappearing with him after school. Y/n was able to confine to her about her relationship with Carlisle, about the way he always seemed to be looking at her through his soft amber eyes and the way he was so comfortable in touching her. Constantly brushing his fingers over her wrist or stroking her hair out of her face. All in all y/n had never been happier, of course until Bella’s tragic 18th.

***

For a night that would be so monumental to y/n’s life it seemed strange she wasn’t even present. Her parents had somehow dragged her on a holiday in Florida. And after giving Bella her early birthday present and a promise to Carlisle that she would be careful, she hadn’t thought much more of her time away. She spent most of the time on the beaches, reading and reliving all her memories with the doctor.

He had kissed her only a few nights ago. It came quite literally out of the blue. She was only stopping by his house to pick-up Edward’s copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ when he was at the door waiting for her he seemed somewhat disturbed, as though he had had a rough day at the hospital. She had smiled at him as she got out and he in turn had pattered down the front steps.

“Hi.” Was all she managed to get out before he had caught her lips in his, his body flushed against hers as she was pushed against the car.

“Sorry.” He whispered breathlessly when the kiss had unfortunately come to a close and he rested his forehead against hers, gently rocking her in his arms. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Yet she couldn’t stay on holiday forever and inevitably she returned to the mess that was life back at Forks. When she got home the first thing she wanted to do was see Bella, to ask her about her birthday, if Alice got her that necklace y/n helped pick out, but Charlie was no help.

“I’m sorry y/n...” He looked incredibly stressed. His shirt old and stained his hair sticking up at the back, heavy set bags hanging below his eyes. “Bella...she’s...she’s not good right now.”

Y/n assumed Bella had come down with something and so she shrugged it off, blaming Charlie’s appearance on well, Charlie stuff. It was the next day at school when things started to feel really wrong, when the pain began to dig it’s hole.

***

“You looking for the Cullens?” Angela asked. Y/n snapped her head around, embarrassed that she had been caught glaring at the completely empty table near the back of the cafeteria. She would have never guessed it was related to Bella’s illness.

“Something happen?” Y/n tried to appear disinterested, picking at her food. It was September and not sunny so it didn’t make sense for them to be away perhaps they were in need of a feed or maybe they had family business...

“Yeah, they moved away.” 

Angela said it like someone would talk about the weather and yet she might as well have leaned across the table and shoved her fork through y/n’s chest.

“What?” The word squeaked out. Y/n felt the colour drain from her face.

“The dad...you know the doctor one...well apparently he got some big time job offer down in California and...”

Angela’s words dissolved into the air, muffled by some invisible blanket. Distantly y/n was aware of her arms going limp, her fork clattering out of her hands as her body tingled numbly underneath her. The worst feeling was the shortness of breath, the way air couldn’t seem to move through her lungs anymore as her chest was weighed down with what felt like a sphere of lead.

The rest of the day couldn’t pass slowly enough. In history it seemed like y/n was watching the clock forever her mind racing a million miles an hour. Surely they hadn’t left properly, Carlisle couldn’t leave without saying goodbye at least. No, it had to have something to do with vampirism, maybe an old friend called or maybe they were in danger, 5 more minutes then gym and then she would find out.

In the end she decided to skip gym altogether jumping in her car and racing home, still in her daze. She needed to see Bella and then she would head up to the Cullen’s, there was no way they had really moved away. Maybe it was just so the humans weren’t getting suspicious, a strange feeling pulled at y/n’s gut as she remembered that technically, she was a part of the ‘humans’ or supposed to be at least.

“Charlie is Bella in?”

“I’m sorry y/n-”

She pushed past him, muttering an apology as she went but Charlie appeared too exhausted to stop her. Turning left she raced up the stairs two at a time before exploding into Bella’s room, she would know from Bella, she would get her answer.

Bella sat on her bed, her face white, her eyes glossed over. She didn’t even look at y/n as she walked in.

“Bella?” Y/n’s voice was shaky, the tears already bubbling in her throat. She knew deep down that she already had her answer. “Bella?”

Finally she turned to her, but there was no recognition. Nothing. Complete emptiness behind her eyes as she stared back for a few seconds before her eyes flickered forward.

Y/n left, apologising to Charlie under her breath as she jumped back in her car. But it was too late, the pain had already settled in her chest, her mind was already convinced. They were gone. He had left. Without even saying goodbye.

It was inescapable now, it spread like fire across her body, consuming her whole. She tried to start up her car but her body doubled over and she grit her teeth in pain. It had begun.

***

She didn’t know where to go, what to do. Most of her wanted to go to the Cullen’s house but she already knew it was most likely empty, devoid of all life. Could she really handle that?

Y/n went to start up her car when she realised that this car was all Carlisle had given her besides her own memories. She raced out of it, turning away from the sight of it and running into her house.

When she got to her room she shut her curtains with so much vigour a few hooks snapped off the edge, she knew she would see the pale car in her drive if she left it open. Before she knew it she was crying, trying desperately to control her emotions before they consumed her whole. Then she saw it.

Resting on her bedside table was an ivory note with her name etched onto the page in rich navy ink.

‘Dearest y/n l’n,’

A letter. He had left her a letter. She opened it carefully, if what she assumed was true this, as well as her car, might be all she had left of him; her sobs still hiccuping in her throat, she raced her eyes over his calligraphy. Five paragraphs. That was all. Five paragraphs loosely explaining how Edward was in a rough place, how people were judging Carlisle for his youth, how he needed to put his family first - five paragraphs.

Y/n gasped, the pain was rippling from her chest now, ricocheting through her muscles as she collapsed on her bedroom floor. She could already guess his next words, the words to conclude the letter.

‘We’re leaving.’

The worst feeling was when she read ‘we’, she knew from this word alone she was to understand that Carlisle did not group her with his family. The letter gave no insinuation that he was deeply sorry for their departure, or that he would in any way return at all. How, in the space of a few hours, could her world be turned completely inside out?

She went from giddily planning a small future with Carlisle to believing he had never cared for her at all. If he did, it certainly wasn’t as much as she had cared for him. Another wave of pain beat her down. She was just a stupid kid with a crush. Another wave. She was a fool, an embarrassment to assume that he wanted her even half as much as she wanted him.

Her tears got too much then, the letter shaking out her hands as the pain, now unbridled, exploded out of her. The waves of heartbreak crashing into her again and again, her stifled screams bouncing off her walls and ringing back in her ears, haunting her with her own pain. 

He was gone, and he had taken her heart with him.

***

“Y/n we’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” Y/n laughed loudly, pushing her untouched pasta around on her plate. Angela glanced at her through tense eyes. “I already have a mum, Angela.” The words came out harsher than she meant to, not that she cared.

“But seriously, Mack?” Angela whispered, her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. Y/n rolled her eyes. 

“We’re not a thing, we just hang out and he...helps me out.”

“He’s a druggie.” Her voice was low, accusing, incredulous. Another roll of y/n’s eyes.

“Duh Angela. What do you think I meant by ‘helping me out’.” Angela just shook her head disappointed. Y/n didn’t care, she couldn’t. Technically sitting at that lunch table on that Friday she was still coming down from her high this morning, her brain soft and fuzzed around the edges and, most importantly, the pain in her chest non existent.

The drug scene in Forks was nothing to be impressed by. It was only by luck that y/n had met Mack, a guy a few years out of high school who had never made it to college. Y/n was pretty sure he was crushing on her but she didn’t mind exploiting that a little if it meant she got high for free. 

It had been four months since they had left. They might as well have taken Bella with them considering she was a shell of a human being: unresponsive, uncooperative. There was nothing behind her eyes, just like the day y/n had come searching for her. That had been one of the last times y/n had stepped foot in the Swan house. Partly because y/n’s new found drug habits wouldn’t go down well with Chief Charlie Swan, partly because y/n couldn’t stand the sight of Bella.

The emptiness, the hollowness, the pain. It was just a reminder to y/n of what was waiting for her the day she became sober. In the beginning, after a few days of wallowing in the pain, feeling as though she were unable to move, y/n had forced herself to go to the beach where she had ran into a bunch of La Push boys. They were smoking green and it was clearly their first time, they called out and invited y/n over clearly expecting that she wouldn’t accept.

But she surprised both them and herself by walking over. After sitting and smoking them with a bit she found herself smiling and laughing at their jokes as her head became warmer and fuzzier, moreover, the pain of his abandonment warmed into nothingness. She had asked them where they got the weed and they had pointed her in the direction of Mack.

“Down for tonight?” 

Y/n read the text as it flashed across her screen.

“You bet :)″

She sent back. Two more lessons and then her high could be refreshed and the cycle could continue.

***

Y/n gasped as she awoke. Nightmares had been more common the past week. They were a regular occurrence when he had first left but going to bed high had always numbed it out. But recently his ivory skin and ribbons of muscles were becoming clearer through the haze.

Rolling over in the dark with some desperation she flicked on her phone and dialled his number.

“Hey Mack, I just called cause-”

“You have a bad high?” He murmured over the phone, distantly she could hear his TV playing in the background. She could picture him, half-dressed surrounded by trash as he got himself high for the third time today. Y/n pushed the image away - no, I’m not like that. It’s different for me, I have a reason.

“Yeah.” She muttered, “I just didn’t know who to call.”

“Usually bad highs are a sign you’ve been smoking too much.” She had basically been smoking consistently for four months now and if she wasn’t smoking she was drunk and if she wasn’t drunk then the pain began to settle.

“Ugh, are you going to tell me I have to stop?” She laughed quietly over the phone, trying to cover the slight desperation in her voice. Distantly she was aware of her parents sleeping in the next room, it was stupid, she was eighteen now and it felt as though she had been through enough trauma to move out, to get away from school. On the other hand school seemed to be the only thing holding her together now.

“No, you don’t need to stop smoking but maybe try something else?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Something else?”

���I stock more than green but it’ll have to be sooner rather than later.”

“Sooner?” Y/n murmured robotically. She had bought enough to get her through the week.

“This weekend?” He asked, almost as if he read her mind.

“See you then...your place?” She rolled over in the dark.

“See you then?” She could hear the enormous grin settle on his lips and it sent a shiver down her spine - she hung up. She had promised herself to never do anything more serious than weed but now she was faced with an ultimatum: break her promise or embrace the darkness.

***

“Hi Mack.” Y/n smiled when he opened the door, he didn’t say anything just grinned and stood to the side letting y/n into his dingy apartment. Y/n had used the same lie to her parents that she used whenever she came here - that she was sleeping over at Angela's. Not that they ever checked. 

Of course she wasn’t  sleeping over at Mack’s, to be honest she didn’t trust him enough for that, normally she left late and would drive her car up to the Cullens house, it wasn’t too far and the road was easy enough to follow when intoxicated. It was the only time was she was able to wander around the house without feeling any guilt or remorse. 

Mack’s place was tiny, made worse by the clutter and rubbish. A small corridor lead to a small living room which the tiniest of kitchens looked out into. Mack had a strip of lights around the top of the ceiling that were constantly flashing multi-coloured as loud obnoxious music played, somewhat muffled in the smoke.

“Hey y/n.” Danny, Mack’s roommate, smiled from the couch, clearly already lost.

“Hey Dan.” She smiled before collapsing at his feet, her knees propped against the coffee table where booze and skins cluttered the surface.

“You’re in for a treat.” He slurred, his arms limp by his sides as his eyes flickered back and forth, his mouth ajar. Y/n felt somewhat excited at the sight of him, so out of his head - this excitement no longer frightened her.

“He’s not lying.” Mack laughed, full of energy as he jumped up and grabbed something off the kitchen counter before holding it in front of her face. A small white square was compressed in the middle of a tiny plastic bag. “These things pack a punch.” He laughed, y/n laughed. “You’re still down to do this right? I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He said, and for a moment it looked like he was actually concerned for her.

Y/n thought seriously about it for a moment. There was nothing stopping her from getting up and walking out, telling him that it was a mistake to come here, even just telling him that she’ll run the risk of sticking to green. Except the weed wasn’t enough anymore, she was realising that. To keep him away she would have to go further, and she was more than willing. It seemed somewhat funny, that to escape her doctor she had to pollute herself.

“Of course.” Y/n heard her voice laugh as she shuffled out of her jacket and pulled her hair out from it’s knot. If Mack and Danny could, she could.

“Awesome.” He grinned before sitting down on the coffee table in front of her so that her head was somewhat between his knees. “This is how you take it.” He said, clearly enjoying being a ‘teacher’. Y/n could see him properly then.

Mack was in his early-twenties, the same age he was supposed to be. A short brown beard tufted around his jaw whilst shoulder length brown hair was pulled into a low pony at the back of his head. He was sweet really, just lost.

“Stick your tongue out.” Y/n obliged, picking up on the moment of tension as he placed the white square on her tongue with his forefinger. She felt no guilt as she lapped her tongue back into her mouth slowly, gazing into his dark eyes as his finger rested on her bottom lip.

The rest of the night was a blurry mess; mistakes were definitely made and y/n was definitely going to have to find a new dealer. It was strange how that night only happened because she was so desperate to escape Carlisle Cullen, and yet for most of it, it was his icy face that she was picturing instead of Mack’s.

***

Weeks had passed and y/n’s drug exploration was starting to get a little out of control. She was sure her parents were picking up on her strange behaviours: never home at weekends, always fidgeting, bleary eyed and always tired. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, Mack said that could be one of the side effects. 

But it was lucky she was high one specific Friday as she parked her car outside Mack’s apartment complex. She glared at the Bronco, she had seen Bella ripping the radio (Emmett’s gift to Bella) out of her own truck, removing all traces of the Cullen family’s existence. It wasn’t so easy for y/n.

She was thinking of him again. It had been quite obsessive these past few days and that’s why when she first saw him, leaning against his black Mercedes in the shadows, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

“What the hell.” She was so sure she was hallucinating, she blinked fiercely.

“Y/n.” He said her name and she felt her eyes flutter closed, how good it felt to hear her name dripping from his lips. She wasn’t aware she had memorised his voice so well. She audibly hummed in response to the sound before snapping herself out of it and ignoring his form. Mack was just upstairs with something new to try and then he would go away. “Y/n.” He said her name again as though he were sure she hadn’t heard him.

Y/n ignored it. The sweetness of his presence was quickly turning sour, and the corners of the hole in her chest were beginning to sting.

“Y/n, it’s me.” That stopped her. From the corner of her eye she could see him step out of the shadows, his pale skin iridescent in the street light. He looked unsure, pleading, desperate. “Y/n.”

“No.” She gasped suddenly. There was no more guessing, she couldn’t even try to deny that it was truly him. She stumbled slightly in the street and he was by her side in a second. When she was stable in his arms he held a lock of her hair between his fingers inhaling deeply. “Your blood smells different.” He murmured. She had forgotten what it was like to be around people who could move so quickly. “Y/n, what have you been putting in your body?”

“Leave me alone.” She murmured, her head still fuzzy and numb from the sight of him. Was it a dream? No it couldn’t be. As she got over her shock, anger pooled in her gut. 

“Are you high?” His eyes were confused and worried.

“If I am what would you do about it?” She smirked. “You have no right to critique my lifestyle.”

“Your lifestyle?” He asked somewhat incredulously, his eyes were slowly melting darker and darker. “Poisoning yourself with LSD is a lifestyle for you?”

“It’s a coping mechanism.” She spat suddenly. “To deal with the pain that you left me with.” That shut him up.

“I would’ve never left if I knew you would do this.” He grimaced. Wrong move.

“Stop!” She gasped suddenly, her arm snatching to her gut where she was sure the pain would brim over. She thought seeing him again would melt her troubles away, instead his presence seemed to intensify them. “Stop talking like you get a say in what I do! You lost that privileged the day you left! Left with nothing but a stupid note Carlisle!”

“I left to protect you. I didn’t want to cause you pain. Remember Victoria?” Was all he could say in response.

“Victoria...” Y/n spat. “What Victoria did to me pales in comparison to what you did. You’re the one whose hurt me the most Carlisle. Do you understand?”

She was still in shock at the sight of him. A million questions were racing through her head but none of them seemed as important now. Her shouting must have alerted someone’s presence because she heard movement near the apartment steps as someone walked up to them.

“Are you okay?” It was Mack but he seemed a million miles away now, unimportant.

“Are you her dealer?” Carlisle strode forward, his voice pure steel.

“Carlisle stop it!” She spat, jumping forward and pushing against his stony chest but it was like trying to move a mountain.

“Are you the one that did this to her?” Carlisle ignored her, still towering over Mack.

“You did this to me!” She suddenly exploded. Carlisle was past listening.

“If I ever see you near her again. I will break you myself, I promise.” His voice was calm meditated, as if every word had weight.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” Mack asked venomously. “Well then maybe I should let you in on a secret.”

“Mack shut up.” Y/n felt fear bubble into her throat. Sure she could swear in that moment she hated Carlisle but that’s all it was, a moment. There was no point in ruining her future.

“Your girlfriend ain’t too loyal.” Mack drawled out, a coy smirk slipping on his lips as he rocked back and forth on his toes. Carlisle tensed. “At least...she wasn’t last night.” 

An animalistic snarl snapped from of Carlisle lips like a whip and within the second he had Mack pinned against the bonnet of a car. Then, just as quickly as he moved, he remembered himself. Letting Mack drop Carlisle’s breath heaved before he turned and stalked towards his car without sparing y/n so much as a glance. Always the pacifist.

“Carlisle.” She called, rushing after him but Mack caught her elbow.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a relationship?” He asked and if y/n wasn’t mistaken he sounded somewhat heartbroken, all his previous anger evaporating.

“I’m not.” Y/n gasped struggling to get out of his grip.

“You’re in something.” He murmured, letting her go.

“I’m sorry Mack, I really am. I’ll...call you.” The words were falling over her shoulder as she escaped, but he was already gone and distantly she could hear his Mercedes ripping into the night as he drove away.

***

“It’s not his fault.”

“I don’t need this right now Edward.” After jumping into her Bronco y/n had followed Carlisle’s black Mercedes back to his house. During the drive she couldn’t decide whether her anger was riling up or fizzing into the air and thus, nothingness. He had been so close, she had put her hands against his chest, he was right there.

“Please I just...” Edward’s eyes were tentative as he blocked her path on the house steps, “It’s my fault why we even left, all he was trying to do was be a good father to me.”

“And you think that’s and excuse?”

“No, of course not.” He added hurriedly. “It’s just, I love him, and I know he loves you. Please don’t walk away from him.”

“Walk away?” Y/n gasped, angry tears pricking behind her eyes. “I never wanted to walk away. I never even considered it. You were the ones who left and you took everything with you.” Tears spilled and she hurriedly wiped them away. Edward grimaced. Y/n took her opportunity and stormed past him into the house. To her surprise there stood Rosalie and Emmett; a few hours ago and she would have run into their arms laughing, overjoyed to see her friends again.

“Where is he?” Was all she spat and to her surprise they looked somewhat intimidated as they pointed loosely in the direction of the kitchen. She stormed past them and up the stairs swinging a right to find Carlisle waiting for her, leaning over the counter his head in his hands, he glanced at her.

“Y/n I-” He began.

“Shut up.” Was all she said. Distantly she was aware that Emmett and Rosalie had followed her along with Edward. At the far window she saw movement and assumed Jasper and Alice had come to see what the fuss is about. “You had your chance to talk the day you left but you chose not to, so, what you’re going to do is you’re going to sit in that chat, patiently, whilst I stand her and say what I got to say...understand?”

Carlisle stood now, an internal battle dancing behind his eyes as he glanced from y/n to his family. Y/n was aware of them staring now, watching the leader of their family, the alpha male be challenged, all tentative to see what he would do next. Slowly and with weight, Carlisle walked a few paces before he slid down into a chair, leaning forward and resting on his knees as he looked up at y/n through his lashes. This sent a tremor through the family and within the blink of an eye they were all gone, giving Carlisle and y/n their privacy.

“Carlisle...” Now she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I am...sorry...about Mack and what we...” She trailed off, maybe it was not the best idea to start with this. “But you can’t judge me. You just can’t.”

“I know.” He whispered, his brows furrowing apologetically.

“All this...the drugs, Mack, everything, all of it’s just me trying to cope. And it’s not an excuse but-”

“Please don’t apologise.” Carlisle whispered and within the second he was standing in front of her cupping her cheeks in his hands and brushing his thumb under her right eye. “Never apologise.” He kissed her forehead. “You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her nose. It seemed like he went to go kiss her lips but he hovered, as if he remembered himself and he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved. It was foolish and embarrassing of me.” He decided to say. “Back at the apartments. It’s just...”

“Just what?” Y/n murmured, now in a daze.

“I could smell it.”

“What?”

“Your scent...on him. On his neck, his shirt. Deep down I already knew what had happened but then hearing him...say it...and gloat.” His teeth gritted.

“If it’s any consolation, if I knew you were coming back I would have never-”

“But you didn’t know I was coming back. Because I left you here with nothing.” He was talking to himself now. “I...” He began. “I knew I was hurting you the day I left, the idea alone tormented me for months but I kept lying to myself, telling myself I would put you in more danger, more pain if I came back. But seeing the reality of what I had done to you, coming back to your blood smelling different and...” He trailed off.

“I know.” Y/n filled the silence, overwhelmed now at the feeling of him flushed against her body.

“I’ve got to hand it to Edward.” He chuckled to himself. “He’s more persuasive than he looks.” They stood like that for a moment, just comfortable at being able to be around one another again before y/n scrunched up her eyes.

“God, I've just been so caught up in being angry at you that I don’t think it’s really settled that you’re here. I feel like I’m going to wake up and this is just going to be a cruel dream.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He cut her off gently, his eyes steely. “Not because I’m afraid of what you’ll do to yourself if I leave, not because you necessarily need me. But because...I don’t know how many chances I’m going to get to love someone like this.” He chuckled slightly. “And I mean, I have an eternity stretched out in front of me...but to love someone the way I love you...completely and utterly and with every piece of my heart and soul...”

His words fizzled into the air, the greater meaning behind them understood by them and only them.

“I’m sorry about Mack.” They were swaying slightly now, as if there were some soft unheard music. “He’s sweet...and he’s just lost...I guess I was for while.”

“As long as it was...consensual.” Surprisingly this made y/n laugh, a noise he had missed with his whole soul.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

And they didn’t. From an outsiders perspective no one could have guessed anything was ever wrong between y/n and Carlisle. Just as before things gently shifted back into place, old routines were picked up and recent habits died out. Carlisle made good on his promise, he spent the rest of eternity doing everything in his power to make y/n happy, for that was all that mattered for him.

“To love someone the way I love you.” Became their phrase. Before long journeys apart, before what felt like impending doom when it came to Victoria, or the Voultri. He murmured it to her before she slept and shouted it after her car when she pulled away - an ode to their relationship, and all that they had been through. Y/n and Carlisle, the Dinosaur and the Vampire.

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[zabrak-show]

Bubble Bath | Maul x Reader

Summary: Setting Sundari Palace and reader (gender neutral) is an intelligence officer for Maul’s Mandalorian army.

Word count: 2.1k (god sorry I didn’t think it would be that long)

Warnings: some angst between reader and maul as well as obimaul angst. otherwise it’s just plain dumb and silly, oh and a couple curse words

A/n: This is about the silliest thing I’ve written in quite some time hoo boy. I hope someone else finds it funny or at the very least entertaining. I laughed writing it but I am a dork so idk. This was a request from @jabean21​ to have the reader walk in on Maul taking a bubble bath as a comedy. Idk about Maul’s robot legs in the bath ok, just don’t think about it too much I guess.

The crisp nighttime air seeped into the Sundari Royal Palace and brought with it a calming energy to all who were exposed to its delicate embrace. You were walking along the gardens of the palace, one of your favorite places to just meander and quiet your mind from the day’s stresses. The stresses of being an intelligence officer for Lord Maul’s Mandalorian army were many, but you handled it with the grace of a Toydarian haggling with a Jedi. Ok you were not handling it so well, but you were handling it. You had not cracked under the pressure yet and you were still able to complete each task at hand.

Lord Maul, was, to put it lightly, not a fun boss. There was no employee appreciation week with a picture of whoever got employee of the week plastered in the break room for all to see. Oh of course, Maul had tried this early on, but he only ever awarded the damn thing to himself. Each week holding a fake ceremony that everyone was required to attend as he presented a new award to himself. Each award was more lavish than the last. The breaking point was when he attempted to award himself the prized ship of one of the Mandalorian commanders. A fire fight ensued, and thank the maker, was short lived. Maul, ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it to lose his army over a ship that he didn’t even really want, but had run out of ideas for things with which to award himself. 

Lord Maul, would get incredibly irritable seemingly for no reason. One morning you had rushed to his side beaming with excitement as you had hacked into a Jedi holo conference. Surely, this would be great news that we had intel on what their next move was. Somehow, Maul grew increasingly irritated and violent with you as you tried to explain what you found out.

“What about Kenobi? What was his part in their plan?” He spat at you inches from your face 

“Kenobi? My lord, I do not know who all the Jedi were. I was merely listening for their next move.” You nervously explained, realizing your good news was not so good being that it was incomplete. 

“You did not hear the name Kenobi then?” He pressed into your body in a show of dominance, but you stood tall in your armor, unwavering against the ruby red Zabrak decorated with geometric obsidian tattoos. His teeth bared as he snarled out the words. You racked your brain trying to remember if the name Kenobi ever came up during your eavesdropping of the Jedi.

“Hmm kenobi...kenobi…” you whispered to yourself quietly in the hopes that saying the name aloud would spark a memory. Did he want you to say yes, Kenobi was involved? Or would that make him angrier?

“Yes, Kenobi. KENOBIIIII” He yelled the final Kenobi with a stupendous gusto knocking you back a bit all the while he stared off into the distance with a longing in his golden eyes you had never seen the Zabrak show before. You looked behind you to see where he was looking at seemingly nothing and slowly back at him again.

“Are...are..are you wanting to see Kenobi? Because it sounds like you want to see Kenobi.” you genuinely asked the now pensive Maul. A smirk slowly formed, the one side of his lip curving up.

“Yes, at last I will reveal myself to Kenobi. At last I will have my revenge.” he said in his hauntingly smooth and theatrical voice while a full menacing smile contorted his already striking features.

“I, um, actually don’t know that Kenobi is involved in this, my lord. I can find out, i mean I WILL find out.” you bowed out of the room as Maul stood still staring off into the distance dreaming of his apparent long lost lover. 

You had no idea he was in love with anyone he always seemed way too selfish, and a Jedi at that?! It was a  bit of a shock to say the least. You and him had been casual lovers at one point, but it all kind of fizzled out. His temper was too much for you and you had wanted more than he could offer. You once got really drunk at a celebration feast and referred to him as your boyfriend to more than a few people. Maul had wanted to keep your affair a secret and you blew it. The embarrassment of that night still stung. It stung worse that he had not wanted to publicly be tied to you in any way. He had been gentle about letting you down, trying to say it was for your safety, that his enemies would try to attack you. “Oh sure, that makes sense,” you had agreed not wanting to show how it felt like your heart had just shattered into a million pieces of clari-crystalline.

Fast forward to tonight, the reason for your great stress was that the Jedi were on their way to Mandalore and you still had no idea if Kenobi was actually with them or not. After you hacked their communication the first time, they must have caught wind and secured their lines better. Maul had been pacing around the throne room all day trying to get everyone ready for an attack. You honestly felt for him, to have someone you love so dearly end up being your sworn enemy. No wonder he was so grumpy all the time. You certainly understood the heartache even if it was a different circumstance for both of you.

You made your way back from the palace gardens into the throne room where Maul was causing a fuss with the servants about the decor it seemed.

“What? What are these?! This is not the way of your people. To act like we live in the gutters?! Take these all away!!” he huffed as he thrust the pile of tapestries into the hands of a servant.

“Lord Maul, I am at your service.” you spoke confidently as you dutifully walked up to him. He turned to look at you and relief washed over his rigid frame relaxing himself a tiny bit.

“Ah, (y/n). A sight for sore eyes. Tell me how much time do we have until the Jedi arrive?” he raised a tattooed eyebrow in concern as he asked you.

“By my calculations they will be here in five hours.” you answered him with ease, that was something you at least felt confident in from your spying.

“Excellent. I will meet you in your office in one hour to discuss my plan for you. Don’t be late.” he extended a tattooed finger to point at you as he made his demands. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t still make your heart stop and butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I will be there waiting, my Lord.” you turned in a rush to walk away, not wanting him to see your flushed cheeks. Right behind you, one of the servants was carrying a bucket of mop water and you knocked right into them, their small frame no comparison for yours covered in armor and they tumbled backwards and then overcorrected forward practically throwing the dirty mop water onto Maul. In an instant Maul, now soaked, held his hand out and started force choking the servant lifting them from the ground, their hands clawing at their throat and flailing their legs.

“Maul, No!” you yelled without thinking jumping out at him to pull his arm down.

“It was my fault. I ran into them.” you tried to reason with him as you gently pulled his arm down. He snarled and looked at the servant now fallen into a pathetic slump onto the floor.

“Get out of my sight.” he hissed and the servant picked up the bucket and ran off down the hall. Maul looked down at the mess of himself and growled,

“These were my finest robes. Now what am I to do?”

“Lord Maul, all your robes look fine on you. Go get yourself cleaned up, I’ll see to it that everything gets done in here and we can still meet in an hour.” you put your arm on his back and tenderly led him out of the room as you reassured him.

“Very well. Make certain it is spotless in here. I can’t have it look like I’m running a crime syndicate in a garbage dump here. Next they will be comparing my aesthetics to the Hutts. I loathe at the very thought.’ His fist clenched up as he grimaced and walked out of the throne room. You walked back to the spilled mop water and helped the servants clean. It was not above you to help the staff out especially when you knew something was partially your fault.

If anyone should get employee of the week, it’s me, you amused yourself with the thought. What would you gift yourself? You day dreamed about dark sabers, new beskar armor, or a new ship, maybe just a really nice house somewhere far away. The throne room was now spotless and you came to your senses realizing you had been here for quite some time. You were to meet with Maul in less than 10 minutes. 

You hurried out of the throne room, down the hall to your office. Technically you had plenty of time to get there, but you liked to be ready for Maul and had also wanted to tidy things up for your neat freak boss. You made your way down a corridor, your pace somewhere between a soft jog and speed walking, when you heard Maul’s voice nearby. You stopped to listen and although he was using his usual serious and dominating tone, there was something off about it. 

“I’m not sure I’ve made your acquaintance.” a strange voice rang out, muffled by the door. 

Who was in there with him? you thought with a slight panic.

“I’m surprised you could have forgotten me so easily, after I killed your master and you left me for dead on Naboo.” Maul’s voice was strained each word spitting out of him as a separate unit from the coherent thought. Your panic began to rise as you could hear the two voices back and forth. Finally the stranger belted out,

“I’ve defeated you before and I can defeat you again!” the sounds of a light saber igniting and you didn’t have to think about barging in, it was now or never. You practically tore the door down in your rush to Maul’s aid, blaster out and ready to fire. 

What you saw was more shocking than anything for which you could have prepared yourself. Maul was almost fully immersed in a bubble bath. Bubbles were spilling out onto the floor and all around him. He had fashioned a crew cut and beard out of bubbles around his dark red face, horns barely protruding out of the bubbles, and his bright yellow eyes widened in horror at seeing you in his refresher. Your jaw might as well have been on the floor, but you couldn’t even be bothered to think about what you were doing, what was Maul doing? He was holding two small figurines one of which looked eerily similar to himself, the other wearing a tan robe and small beard. They were actually remarkable looking figures, but why? 

“Maul, my..I heard voices and a light saber, I thought you were…a tiny figurine, what are you holding?” you couldn’t even form a coherent thought, words spilling out of you with no direction.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He threw the figurines across the floor and crossed his arms looking straight ahead avoiding your judgmental stare. Finally you picked your jaw up off the ground and reached down to pick up one of the figurines. It was the tan one with a crude little beard holding a miniature light saber.

“I um, I am relieved you are ok. I’m terribly sorry I burst in on you like this. I get so worried about you sometimes.” you admitted plainly. If there was a time to bare it all, now was it. Even if it wasn’t reciprocated, maybe it would help ease his own embarrassment. Maul was silent and you panicked  trying to replace the tension in the air with just about anything else.

“Hey you know, this little guy looks a lot like one of those Jedis I was spying on a little while ago.” you turned the figure over in your hands studying it.  At once Maul jumped out of the bathtub, water and bubbles flying everywhere,

“KENOOOOBBBBIIIIIIIIII”

Epilogue:

“Hey did you really mean it when you said I look good in all my robes?” Maul leaned over to ask you later that night, after you all had chased the Jedi out of Mandalore.

“Maul. all your robes are identical.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

thanks for reading xoxo

[hazbincalifornia]

Yeah, yeah, more Stolas/Blitzo analysis. I want as comprehensive an understanding of their relationship as possible as I write the fic so the growth comes out of where they actually are in canon at the moment. This time it’s about the phone call in the pilot because Blitz is in a less freaked out place there than he was in Murder Family and thus it’s a better sort of ‘ground zero’, but there’s also a comparison of the two calls to see what may have changed (or stayed the same) in the transition between pilot and show. It’s capped off with how they might get to somewhere better in the future, since it’s pretty clear that they’re going to be A Thing.

Note that this isn’t in any way ship-bashing, I personally hope that they do get some development on-show and think that they’re a compelling ship.

His expression combined with ‘So, what can I do you for this time, Stolas?’ (on top of Loona’s comment about Stolas being clingy and sounding DTF-y and Blitzo snapping at her) heavily implies that this kind of call happens fairly often. (On insta, both Stolas and Blitzo have mentioned calls like it being regular, to the point of being incorporated into Blitzo’s schedule.) The strained smile and the fact that he was putting it off... even if he may play a bit dumb, he 100% knows the power Stolas’s got over him and probably the potential consequences if he isn’t at least somewhat pleasant.

With the first comment about the political candidate on Earth, I’m guessing (I don’t know if this is still a thing carried over to the main series) sometimes Stolas just sends IMP to do dirty work that he’s supposed to be doing because they have the book and it was part of the initial deal to let them keep it. 

‘Okay, well, yeah, that makes sense.‘ He’s semi-bored but again is affirming Stolas. He’s probably used to hearing Stolas mentioning stuff like being lonely.

Realization when Stolas mentions ‘You know what happens when i’m lonely?’

‘Oh, God fucking dammit.‘ Yep, this is definitely going where he hoped it wouldn’t- if he was lucky, today’s call would just be Stolas asking him for a murder-favor or something, but nope, the guy’s going to just be really, really horny at him again. This isn’t an unusual occurrence but he’s got to put up with it.

This was what really sealed it for me as not just irritation- he makes this expression for a full ten seconds. I counted. And with how he feeds the phone-smoothie to Loona, he’s trying to get out his aggression at the situation in any way that he can.

I get that snapping the phone in half and blending it up is a comic exaggeration, but let’s take this whole exchange as flatly as possible:

There’s a person who owes his livelihood to being able to borrow a magic book from someone much richer and more powerful than he is. He has to repeatedly take calls from that powerful person that sometimes asks him to complete jobs that are already in his line of work, in exchange for the book since it’s needed to complete them. That can be considered somewhat of a fair trade. However, sometimes the calls devolve into sudden and extremely graphic sexual talk, something that clearly upsets the person a fair amount. He has to deal with this on a fairly regular basis in order to keep both his business afloat and himself from getting squashed like a bug if the word gets out to the wrong people that this whole affair is illegal and I doubt Hell plays nice with second chances when it comes to something like this.

Blitzo definitely knows he’s between a rock and a hard place here. He knows he’s got some wiggle room- he did end the call in the middle of Stolas ranting after all- but he can’t pull away entirely without risking everything and the sexual harassment is just par for the course when it comes to dealing with Stolas.

The call in Murder Family brought a new layer to this. It’s possible that Blitzo generally tries to be polite to Stolas but he was just really, really stressed- and even then, the worst he says is that this is a really bad time and he’s trying to not get fucked up at the moment. He snaps back ‘what did you call me?’ and that’s fairly accusatory, but consider how he talks to Moxxie vs how he’s talking to Stolas.

Stolas’s little cooed ‘When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?’ does some work of its own- it’s got that air of this being a thing that happens regularly enough that Stolas feels comfortable teasing Blitzo on the fact that he’s heard his excuses for not answering a call from him, and uses a nickname to show familiarity right off the bat. He expects Blitzo, to some degree, to drop everything for him. The point is, obviously, to establish this relationship to anyone who didn’t see the pilot, and Blitzo’s annoyance the whole call has the same feeling of ‘this is a regular occurrence and I just have to put up with it’. There’s the leveraging of the book for sex made even more explicit, and Blitzo just kind of agrees, probably only half-listening because he’s heard this all before and he’s got other concerns at the moment. The line delivery cements this.

‘Fine, whatever!’

His expression is definitely still uncomfortable when Stolas slips to the horny talk, even though it’s a little subtler this time, and his breathing is animated in a way that shows he’s still in panic mode.

He still actively grimaces and briefly glances at the phone before telling himself to shake it off and focus on the problem. I note that he doesn’t mute the call despite there being way more reason to here- maybe something shifted between pilot and episode 1 that he’s not supposed to do that?

There’s also the fact that Stolas is apparently willing to go on his horny rant completely undeterred by the fact that Blitzo isn’t responding at all. He isn’t even near the phone after the first minute or so, but he’s still clearly talking when Moxxie heads back to the house later. It can’t have been less than ten to fifteen minutes of radio silence from Blitzo and he’s still going. Blitzo’s participation isn’t necessarily needed here, and I don’t doubt there’s times where Blitzo just leaves the phone on and does other work in his office until Stolas burns himself out. 

There’s a lot of subtle ways they used to make it clear that this is noooooot something Blitzo’s really that comfortable with.

Of course he was the one to start it by sleeping with the guy in the first place to get access to the book, which was a colossally stupid move (the hell did he think was going to happen when Stolas found it missing?) but it’s evolved into something beyond his control. He’s not great at conceptualizing consequences, I don’t think, and this is one he’s stuck with.

From how the instagram accounts behave, it seems pretty likely that they’re endgame, and I’m fascinated to keep watching and see how the relationship develops both of them as characters. It seems the biggest barriers here are both communication (Stolas seems to talk at Blitzo more than with him) and the fact that Blitzo doesn’t have much of a choice in having this relationship with Stolas.

If they were given a chance to bond on more even ground... well, Blitzo chases after Millie and Moxxie and their healthy relationship, he clearly wants something like that, but what Stolas is offering right now is leaned way too heavily on sex and seeing him as a singularly sexual object. Stolas clearly loves his daughter and can have a healthy relationship based off of that, it’s just a matter of actually listening to what Blitzo says and not forcing himself on him.

I don’t doubt that at some point, Stolas is going to have to confront that when Blitzo ends up having enough and blowing up at him.

I know, this is a lot of words for a comedy series, but the fact that in both calls, Blitzo is clearly and viscerally uncomfortable makes me pretty certain that they’re going to do something with this. If it was just ‘haha that dude’s horny’ they wouldn’t have played it the way that they did, Blitzo would have just been more annoyed and it would have ended at the ‘god fucking dammit’ in the pilot and Stolas wouldn’t have made Blitzo agree to full-moon meetings. That’s, again, specific, and one episode will probably address it again.

[untilmynextstory]

CHAPTER ONE: HOME

WORD COUNT: 18K

WATTPAD | FANFICTION | AO3

Also I think I might only be posting the first chapter on here. I’m not sure yet. It’s just these chapters are really long! I’ll see the response this gets if I will post the second chapter on here. 

The best part about returning from a run is simply coming home. When he was younger and unattached, Jackson Teller thoroughly enjoyed the perks of the runs. The women, booze, and the vast road had always been something to look forward too. Although it’s hard to believe that it has been only six years since he has last indulged in the many pleasurable vices the club has to offer. 

Those vices paled in comparison of the treasures that waited for him in his small three bedroom ranch. Jax wanted something bigger – much vaster. With his lifestyle, he had the means to spoil those he loved. 

Even if he would have preferred a stripper pole in the bedroom, Jax would never look to replace his quaint home that rests at the end of the cul de sac. It’s hidden by the redwood trees and the dark brick exterior blends in perfectly. If it wasn’t for the cars and the bright childlike paraphilia that decorated the lawn, most would probably miss it. 

The growl of his bike echoes throughout the neighborhood. He has learned to ignore the looks that peek through curtains and how some neighbors still shoo their kids back inside when he rides through the settlement of family homes courtesy of Elliot Oswald. It’s one of the few developments that the club allowed to pass through. 

He pulls into his designated spot in a long driveway. After the week-long run, his bike is in a serious need of a wash. He would put the task off onto the Prospect, but instead he thinks it would be good to do it at home. 

He grabs his bag filled with dirty clothes and a few souvenirs as he enters the house through the side door, which leads him into the laundry room. He immediately throws his clothes in one of the baskets. 

Leaving the laundry room, he stands in the hallway and his eyes sweep around. He expects to hear the platter of feet and maybe the TV shouting some Disney song. The house is quiet – seemingly empty. 

Yet, a quirk settles on his lips. He walks into the kitchen and places his pack on the kitchen island. If the house wasn’t so quiet, probably would have missed the shushing sound followed by childlike laughter. 

Jax plays along anyways. 

He exaggerates his movements as he opens cabinet doors and checks behind pillows as he questions if anyone is home. 

The first bedroom painted a baby blue color covered in posters of various athletes and a few drawings of Harley motorcycles is empty. 

The second bedroom painted a lavender color with silver accents. He had expected his life to be overtaken by princesses and tiaras. Yet, the only thing he has been subjected too is glitter tutus. 

The laughter gets a little bit louder as he gets closer to the final destination. He knocks very loudly on his bedroom door before he opens it. 

It’s instantaneous that he is attacked by his two kids. 

“We got you, Daddy!” They shout between their laughter and giggles. Jax laughs along with them as he holds them tight in his arms. He looks at his oldest first, who has his blue eyes. It’s been six years since he has become a father. Six years that made coming home from runs the best part from going on them. He runs his hands through his son’s dark wavy hair before he presses a kiss to his head. Outside of the eyes, Nathan is all his mother. 

He turns his attention to his youngest, his four year old daughter, who owns his whole heart. Her brown eyes are a carbon copy of her mother’s whiskey ones, shining brightly as she tugs at him. “I missed you so much, Daddy.”

Jax’s smile is bright. “I missed you too, Babygirl.” He hugs Kaylee tighter. She squirms in his hold as she presses a kiss to his lips as she wraps her arms around his neck. 

“Did you miss, Mama, too?” Kaylee wonders as her blonde furrow in seriousness. 

A shadow overtakes them and Jax looks in the doorway. Alma stands in the doorway with a fond, proud smile as she watches the scene. Jax’s hold slackens around the kids. He places another kiss on each of their foreheads. His hands grip the familiar curves of his wife and he answers his daughter’s question as he presses a burning kiss to his wife’s plump lips. 

The kiss barely lasts 3 seconds when he feels small hands tugging at them while Nathan exclaims gross. 

Jax pulls away as he looks at Kaylee. “Daddy, you going to come swimming!” It’s then Jax realizes both of their kids are clad in their swimwear. The in ground pool they added last summer seemed to worth the money as he is sure his kids are going to turn into fish with how much they swim. 

“Sure, but I think Mom needs to help me with my swimming trunks.”

Nathan scrunches his nose as he grabs his sister’s hand. “Come on.”

Kaylee gladly follows her older brother. 

Alma huffs as she turns back to go into their bedroom, she is already wearing her bathing suit. The two-piece that is an electric pink is something he doesn’t recognize. Jax surmises it must be new. He closes the door and knows that he is on a serious time crunch. His kutte is thrown onto the bed. 

Alma can barely squeak a Hi before he attacks her lips. His body hums in the familiar taste of oranges that he associates with Alma. 

His hands find purchase in her short brown hair as he nips and sucks on her pouty lips. A week was nothing in the grand scheme of things. The longest run he had ever been on was a month as the club had managed to open a few charter on the East Coast. That run had been brutal as Nathan had only been 3 months than. He told Clay that he would never go on a run that lasted for more than two weeks. 

Alma pulls back, “Jax, baby, slow down.” She whispers against his lips. 

“I missed you.” He tells her as he places another softer kiss to her lips. They’ve been married for five years and Jax didn’t think the wanting would ever stop. 

“Me too, but we have tonight.” She smiles at him and her arms wrap around him. He can’t help the wince as she hits a particularly tender spot. 

She frowns and pulls back from him. “What happened?”

Jax chews on his lip. He had hoped he would’ve been able to hide the bruises from him a little bit longer. He honestly almost forgot about the bruises he received three days ago. 

“I’m fine.” He tells her. He hopes to distract her with a kiss, but she creates a bigger distance between them. 

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine, babe.” 

She folds her arms across her chest. Jax sighs as he kicks off his shoes. The room is quiet as he goes and removes his socks, jeans, and boxers and replaces them with swimming trucks. He removes his white t-shirt last. He exposes the sets of bruises that dot his skin like a grotesque connect the dots his daughter loves to do. 

Alma is at his back. Her touch gentle as she skims across a bruise that is near his kidney. “Was it the Mayans?”

“Don’t stress about it.” He dismissively. 

“How can I not?” She retorts. 

Jax turns and brings her into a hug. He places a kiss on her forehead. “Everything will be fine.” The words don’t bring any comfort as she is stiff in his hold. “Just be careful and keep your gun on you.”

Alma pulls back completely and he can there are many questions on her tongue, but she doesn’t ask. “Nathan’s grounded.”

“What?” Jax says mostly from the complete 180 in turn of where the conversation has turned. “Why?” 

“He got into a fight at school. Won’t tell me why so until then he is on punishment.” Alma says tiredly. Jax wants to question why she didn’t tell him this fact during their many phone calls, but he doesn’t. “I’m tired of being the bad guy,” she tells him softly. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

Alma gives him a small smile. 

“Mom! Dad! Come on!” Both chuckle and they go to exit their room, but Jax grabs her wrist and pulls her back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The great thing about an indoor pool is that it works wonders in tiring out his kids. Nights like these where he is anxious for uninterrupted hours with his wife makes him not regret spending over a grand for the concrete pond. 

He watches as Nathan does his night time routine, which consists of feeding the fishes in his room. He is too big for a night light now, but he still sleeps with his Mr. Toad. It was the first thing Jax ever bought for his son. Considering his reaction to finding out Alma was pregnant, he had a lot of groveling to do and the stuffed toad was in the one in plenty of the apology gifts. 

He tucks his son in bed. He can hear Kaylee and Alma from the bathroom as they brush their teeth. He looks back to his son, who is already six years old. 

Fatherhood wasn’t something Jax never seriously thought about. He knew his mother wanted him to have kids. Gemma wanted the grandkids despite never liking any of the girls he hung around with. Even then with the promise of free pussy why would anyone want to settle down and have babies. Babies meant a bigger responsibility that he felt was greater than the club. 

And then it only led to one time of him not using protection for him to enter the world of fatherhood. He doesn’t regret having a kid at 18. His children are something he would never regret. 

Fatherhood just brought a lot of responsibilities, or crisis to his state of mind. When he held Nathan in his arms for the first time Jax had been confronted with his own morality and mortality. 

Nathan despite his blue eyes was all his mother. Even down to their temperament and mannerisms. Nathan was Alma. He was the best part of him, but all of Alma. Jax knows the life he leads. He knows that Nathan is expected to follow into his footsteps. He isn’t going to say he doesn’t expect the same thing out of his son. But at the same time, his son could have more. 

He can’t picture his son coming home with bruises or killing a man in cold blood. But Nathan is a part of him; he has a part of him that has violence coated in his DNA. 

Jax sits on the edge of his son’s twin sized bed. “Are you going to tell me what you did in school to get in trouble?”

Blue eyes peek up shyly from behind the comfort of his cover. Nathan’s fist clutches the navy blue comforter as he turns on his side still facing him. “Mom worries too much.”

Jax places his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Your mother loves you.”

Nathan nods his head as he clutches Mr. Toad. 

“Tomorrow, we’re going to talk about this.” Jax tells his son as he gets up from the bed. He is at the door and getting ready to turn off the light when Nathan speaks up. 

“You love Mom too, right?”

“With my whole heart.”

Nathan smiles before his eyes close. 

Jax makes his way next door where Kaylee is already tucked in, but he finds a stack of books on her nightstand. 

“I don’t think we’ll be able to read all these,” Jax tells her as he skims through some of them. 

Kaylee smiles, her missing teeth noticeable. “Why not?” She can’t stop smiling to even pout.

“What are we going to read for tomorrow?”

Kaylee’s eyes go wide like a deer. “Will you be here tomorrow?” She asks softly. 

A lump forms in Jax’s throat. “Of course.”

“Okay, we can read the story about the mouse and cookie.”

“Sure thing.”

Kaylee falls asleep by the 10th page. Jax smiles as he places a kiss on her head and turns on her nightlight. 

Turning off the hallway light, his bedroom is encased by the moonlight. Alma is already laying in bed. He frowns, but he wonders if this is a slight payback for his reluctance to tell her about the bruises on his back. He strips down to his boxer briefs and slides behind his wife. He sees she is only wearing a cami and cotton panties. He concludes she must not be too mad. 

He wraps his arms around her bringing her back into his chest. He just holds her relishing in her weight and warmth against him. 

“The kids are growing up so fast,” he tells her. It feels like only yesterday that he was holding a newborn Kaylee in his arms wondering what in the hell he was going to do with a girl. 

“Your mom said the same thing.”

“Yeah, and what does she have to say?” Jax already has a feeling on what his mother had told his wife. 

“She was wondering if we planned to move into a bigger house.”

The fact that her husband hesitates makes Alma turn over to face him. His eyes tell her everything she needs to know. Despite the fact both of their children were unplanned, she knows her husband wants more. She still is unsure if it’s more from his mother’s urges or the need for her to be fat. 

“I wouldn’t mind a bigger house,” he answers. Alma has mixed feelings on expanding their family. 

Alma does not nor will ever regret her children, but she can’t deny that she feels as if she was penalized for having babies by 18 and being married by 17. Even worse, the father was the blonde biker Jax Teller and now her husband. She had fulfilled the stereotype that she fought against all her life. She had plans. She wanted a life outside of the world she grew up in. She still doesn’t know why she had let Jax Teller into her bed. She knows she can’t deny that she loves him, by being pregnant at 16 and practically having to settle down wasn’t something she wanted. 

Since she was 17, she had been a stay at home wife and mother. With Kaylee starting school this year, Alma yearns for more than just being a mother and wife. She loves her husband, her family, and even the club, but she doesn’t have one thing for herself. She has nothing outside of it. 

She takes a deep breath. “I was thinking of looking for a job.”

Alma knew from a young age college wasn’t something she wanted. Instead, she found herself doing acrylic nails. Since she was young she had been doing her mom’s, most of the old lady’s nearby including Gemma and Luann, as well as a few neighbors. She had a steady side hustle to maybe even open her own shop. Though she thinks she will try her luck at applying at a few shops in Stockton to learn the business first. She couldn’t let her license go to waste. 

Jax doesn’t say anything. “Besides, after Kaylee being in the hospital…” She adds. 

Jax’s hold tightens. Kaylee inheriting the family flaw was hard on all of them. They were lucky she was even able to get into school. Gemma had been worried about the germs and the toll of letting strangers take care of her granddaughter. 

“If we have no more kids, I’ll be fine with the two we have. Though I’m not going to object to more.”

“And for me to start working?”

“I’ll support you with whatever you want to do.” He tells her earnestly. She’s relieved that he doesn’t suggest that she could just work at the garage. 

Alma smiles wide and she rewards her husband with a sweet, wet kiss. 

Alma knows there is not a lot to do in her days. One, her day is catered to a four year old. There is a lot of cartoon, coloring, and sometimes temper tantrums. Most days, Alma spends her morning trying to teach her daughter her letters, numbers, and colors. Afternoons are when they would frequent parks, or run errands with Gemma for various things. Today they are venturing to Stockton. Alma is dressed in a modest summer dress that can pass for business attire. She even dressed Kaylee in a pretty little dress and blonde hair in two buns. Jax telling her that he had to actually work on the garage said he could take Nathan to teach him some things. 

Alma is in a very good mood despite her sparse resume, but she has a portfolio of the work she had done throughout the years. She knows she shouldn’t really expect anything, but the fact she is doing something for herself is all that matters. 

She knows that the only thing at her disadvantage is she isn’t a regular at Claws. It’s a very upscale nail salon. The parking lot is packed and as she eyes the Mercedes and Hummers in the lot she feels very inadequate. She grips Kaylee’s hand a little bit tighter as she walks through the sleek glass doors. 

Inside is cool and the interior is cold from the harsh geometrical designs from the lights to the sharp edges of the desks. Alma knows she can’t be picky and this place is currently hiring. Besides, her work will speak for itself and maybe if hired she will break down and let Gemma take her on a real shopping spree. 

Alma approaches the receptionist desk with a bright smile where a blonde with pink glossy lips and fake boobs greet her warmly. 

“Hi, are you in for an appointment or are you a walk in?” The receptionist asks. 

“Actually, I saw in the paper that you were hiring. I was hoping I could apply?” Alma questions. 

“We actually might even be able to get you an interview right now. We are in desperate need of help.” The blonde informs her. “I’m Holly, by the way.”

“Alma Teller, but I have my daughter with me,” Alma looks down as Kaylee looks up and waves at Holly. 

“She is so cute, but that will be no problem. Our manager, Kim, is here right now. The wait will only be a couple minutes.”

Alma isn’t able to reply as Holly leaps from her desk and walks across the room to an office that overlooks the whole salon. 

Alma turns her attention to her daughter, who is thankfully being good. “What do you say about some ice cream after this?”

Kaylee’s eyes go wide. “Mint chocolate chip!”

“Up even with graham crackers.” Alma promises. Alma digs in her purse for her daughters leapfrog to at least keep her distracted enough for this possible interview. 

The sound of heels clacking against the ceramic floor brings her attention to a tall lanky woman in a black suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is in a severe bun. 

“Holly tells me you’re looking for a job?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me. Holly can watch your daughter.”

“Are you sure?” Alma asks as she looks from Kim to the receptionist. 

“It’s fine. I’ll sit her right here so you can see her from the office.” Holly promises. 

Alma nods her head and whispers to her daughter she will only be a couple minutes. Kaylee is too consumed by her leapfrog to care. 

Alma follows Kim to her office. The salon only has a handful of clients, but she can tell by the shine of their rings it’s more about quality than quantity. 

Alma isn’t even in her seat before Kim speaks to her. “Have you ever worked at a salon before?”

“Uh, no. I have not.”

“You’re applying to be a nail artist right? I don’t need another Holly.”

Alma clutches her portfolio and offers it to Kim. “I work from my house. I’ve been doing nails since I was a kid.”

Kim takes the folder and opens it. “You barely look older than 18.”

“Thank you, but I’m 22.”

Kim is quiet as she flips through the portfolio. Alma hopes she is impressed. “Why did you decide to wait until now to work?”

“I have two kids. I am a stay at home mom and wife. My youngest, Kaylee, is starting school. I decided it was time.”

“Married and two kids at 22,” Kim whistles. “Tell me the differences in gel or acrylic nails?”

“Gel nails have a more natural look with a glossy finish. And if primed right, gel has no damage to the nail bed that acrylic would. Gel nails cure faster and more flexible than acrylic nails. Although, acrylic nails are more durable and sturdy.”

“If hired, considering your lack of previous work, you will go through a three week trial period where we can fire you without just cause. Your work is good.”

“Thank you.”

“You from Stockton?”

“I live in Charming.”

“Really? I heard…” Kim clears her throat. “Alma Teller tell me more about yourself.”

“Well as you know I have two kids. My oldest, my son, is six. My youngest, Kaylee, is four. I’ve been married for 5 years to their father. I’ve lived in Charming all my life. I’ve been doing nails since I was young. My mom and various friends and family I’ve used for practice. And now I’m looking for something to be outside of a wife and mother. I want to improve my skills as a nail artist.” Alma tells her and as she sweeps her hair out of her face she watches as Kim narrows at her tattoo on her left bicep. 

“If hired, we don’t allow tattoos in the shop.”

Alma looks down at her crow. “Okay.” She knows it will be easy to cover up. 

“You said you’re from Charming, right?” Kim asks again. 

Alma nods her head, but dread feels her belly. 

“Alma Teller, I know that last name.” She watches as recognition washes over her features. “Does your husband own that mechanic garage? The one with that motorcycle gang?”

“It’s a club. A motorcycle club,” Alma refutes on instinct. She knows where this is already heading. 

Kim eyes her silently as she closes her portfolio. “Leave your portfolio with Holly. Someone will get back to you.”

She still takes Kaylee for her ice cream. It takes everything in Alma not to cry like a baby at her first failed interview. Maybe she needs to develop thicker skin. She knows she needs too. Having Jax’s name is going to follow her around especially outside of Charming. People in Charming tolerate the club, but their hold doesn’t go beyond the borders. Her mother had warned her about this when her pregnancy test turned out positive with Nathan. 

Alma doesn’t want to mope in the house nor does she want to spend it on the bench outside of the clubhouse. Instead, she drives over to the Winston household. Thankfully Donna is still home with a newborn Ellie. 

Alma is sitting in the backyard as she watches Kenny run around with Kaylee. The only comfort that Alma had during her pregnancy with Nathan was that Donna was pregnant with her at the same time. At least Donna had been 18 and a few months shy from graduating high school. Alma had been the one to walk the halls with a big belly as whispers and snide comments followed her for being a biker whore. After all, Jax had managed to talk his way into her pants when he was on one of his numerous breaks with his high school girlfriend, Tara. 

“Al, I think you should just open your own shop. You already have clientele. You have the talent.” Donna tells her. Alma leaves out the part of the interview when the woman realized her connection to the club. The club is still a little bit of a sore spot between Donna and Opie and Alma doesn’t want to add any more fuel to it. 

She smiles at her friend’s supportive words. Sometimes, she is envious of Donna. Donna still had managed to have her independence from Opie despite the marriage and baby at 18. Donna had a good job working as a receptionist at Oswald Lumber. Opie loved her wholeheartedly. She and Jax didn’t have the most conventional start of a relationship. 

“I don’t know…”

“What’s stopping you?” Donna inquires. “Kaylee is starting school. Nathan is 6. They aren’t babies. You need your own life too ya know.”

“I know.”

Donna places Ellie in a swing and shields her from the sun. Donna’s eyes narrow. “Is Jax not being supportive?” 

“He is. He is. Maybe I’m just a little bit scared.” Alma admits. 

“Alma, you need to start doing things for yourself. You take care of Jax, the kids…you need to start taking care of you.”

Alma picks at the hem of her dress. Alma thinks that is part of the problem. Her whole love has been so consumed by Jax she doesn’t know anything else. As proven earlier, her identity is seemingly tied to Jax and the club. 

“I’ll think about it. Maybe start looking for some spaces. Go to the community college and take a couple business classes.”

Donna smiles and gives her knee a squeeze. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“So unsure of yourself. Everything okay between you and Jax?”

“We’re fine,” Alma insists. 

Donna eyes her, but doesn’t press. “Nathan, say why he got into that fight?”

Alma sighs. “No. Jax said that he would talk to him.”

“He’s a boy. Stuff like this happens.” Donna soothes. 

Alma purses her lips. “It’s just Nathan would tell me everything…”

Donna gives her a knowing smile. “Nathan will always be a mommy’s boy, Al. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Alma snorts. “That is so not it.”

Donna chuckles. “Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!” Alma protests. 

Donna shakes her head. “Hey, do you know what the guys did on the run?”

Alma’s smile dies and she thinks about the fading bruises on her husband. He still hasn’t said how he managed to acquire those. Now she’s only curious as to what happened to Opie to make Donna wonder as well. 

“No, I don’t.”

Donna frowns. “I’m worried. I know…I know some things.” Donna knows that club isn’t exactly legal. “I found a bloody bandana in Opie’s pack. His clothes reeked of smoke.”

“Would you want to know the truth, Donna?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t recognize Opie if I did.” Donna confesses before the cries of Ellie wanting her mother’s milk interrupts. 

“Dad, can we please please please have lunch on the roof?” Nathan begs as he follows Jax into the clubhouse. 

Jax decided to bring Nathan to work with him today. There was no pressing club issue and it gave Jax time to bond with his son. Jax isn’t a great mechanic like his own father, Clay, and even Opie, but he enjoys the work. He enjoys that it gives him something to teach his own son. Something so innocent. 

With the large lunch box in his hands, he looks at his son’s blue imploring eyes. For some reason, Alma did not like the thought of her babies on the roof. He knows better than to take Kaylee. He thinks motherhood has made Alma a little anal in some respect. “You better not tell your mother.” He warns as they go to the ladder. 

Nathan knows better than to stand too close to the edge as they find the clusters of crates. They use a crate to make a makeshift table. Nathan preferred to sit on the ground while Jax sat on the blue milk crate. 

Their lunch contained two chicken salad sandwiches, Gatorade, cookies, cheese and crackers, and a small container of fruit salad. Nathan’s portions were obviously smaller than his. 

It’s quiet between father and son as they eat their lunch. Jax looks out across the lot where he can see the bustling bodies below and the expanse of Charming before them. He is brought back to his own childhood where his father would bring him up here. Jax has seen many sunsets and sunrises on this roof. It’s one of the few places he can go to escape and actually feel calm. 

It seems his son feels the same way. 

Jax turns to Nathan, who is greedily eating his food. Some of the chicken salad is smeared on his cheek. He realizes his son is losing some of the exaggerated features of childhood even at six. He can see under the baby fat that his cheeks will be of Alma’s. His straight nose will be his own to match his eyes. He knows his son will most likely inherit his tall height compared to Alma’s short stature. He watches as Nathan pushes back his wavy hairs from dangling in his eyes with a scowl. 

“You ready to get a haircut?”

Nathan shakes his head. “I want my hair to be as long as yours.”

Jax smiles as he pushes back his straight blonde locks. The tips are brushing the edges of his shoulders. The only reason his hair is this long is out of neglect. He hasn’t just had Alma cut it for him yet. 

“You might need to put in a ponytail soon.”

Nathan’s nose scrunches. “Then I will look like Kaylee.”

“Your sister is cute.”

“She’s a girl.” Nathan says knowingly. 

Jax smiles that Nathan still has his innocence when it comes to the opposite sex. Nathan moves from the floor of the roof and pushes a crate next to him. His boy mimics his movements as they munch on their cookies and overlook the small town. 

“You going to tell me what happened at school?”

Nathan frowns and he begins picking at the seams of his shorts. “A boy pushed me so I pushed him back.”

“Is that all?” Jax presses. 

“He said…”

“He said what?”

“He said that we were white trash. So I told him to shut up. Then he pushed me.” Nathan reveals. “Am I in trouble?” Nathan asks with watery eyes. 

Jax shakes his head. “No, you’re not. But next time he says something, you need to tell your teacher okay? Your mom will worry if you get into more fights.”

Nathan nods his head. 

The two play I-Spy and soon point out familiar landmarks. That leads into Jax telling his son about treasured memories of him and his father. 

“Will you lead the club with Uncle Opie?” Nathan asks after Jax regales a story about him and Opie thinking they were mechanics and took apart their father’s bike out of curiosity. 

“One day,” Jax tells his boy. He knows Nathan isn’t stupid to some of the on goings around the club. Despite Alma being raised in this life like him, it wasn’t easy. There were nights he would come home reeking of gunpowder that would lead to loud spats that were unfortunately witnessed by Nathan. The worst was when Jax had been in a rush to leave from the house and Nathan had seen him stuffing a gun in his ankle bracelet. 

Jax still remembers that fight with Alma, who was heavily pregnant by that point with Kaylee. He was surprised she didn’t induce labor with how she chewed a piece out of his ass. But they both knew it would come to a point where they could hide the truth from their boy. There would come a point where Kaylee would need to know the truth too. 

“One day soon?”

Jax shrugs. Clay wasn’t giving up the gavel soon and at this point Jax wasn’t sure he even wanted it. He knew it would pull him away from his family more than being a simple patch would. He remembers the nights his dad wouldn’t make it home due to business. How his mom would clutch a rosary that she thought was hidden beneath bracelets or gold necklaces. “Not for a little while.”

“When can I be a member of the club?”

“Not until you finish high school,” Jax replies. Unlike him, he wasn’t going to allow his son to get a GED. He knows Alma isn’t either. It will probably be the one stipulation his son will need to follow if he wants to be a patch. 

“But that’s in forever!”

“It’ll go by fast,” Jax soothes. He wraps his arm around his boy. “But I want you to be a kid forever.”

“I don’t.” Nathan pouts. “I want to be just like you, Dad.”

Every Sunday, they had dinner at Gemma’s. There was no exception, but once a month out of those Sundays, they had a Potluck. All the members of the club (including the mechanics) and their family were invited to Gemma’s. 

And this Sunday happened to be one of those. Alma had grown up looking forward to these Sundays. Even more, she remembers being doting on like a princess on these Sundays. After all, she was the only daughter of a First 9 member. She’s Chico Vellenueva’s daughter. 

Alma is working on adding cheese to the anti-pasta salad when she hears Gemma’s heels smacking the floor. 

Thankfully, she and Gemma get along. They butt heads occasionally, but she has never received the cold shoulder or passive aggressiveness that Gemma bestowed on girls Jax would bring home. She assumes she got brownie points for giving her grandchildren and managing to tame her son. 

Even then, Gemma was an aunt to her growing up. She remembers wanting to be like Gemma growing up. Poised, elegant, but deadly like a viper and sharp like thorn on a rose. 

“You hear from your mother lately?” Gemma asks. 

Her mother, Ana Rodriguez, her father’s favorite croweater, was one of the first croweaters that had managed to snag an important member. She gave them hope that sucking dick could actually lead them somewhere. Despite that, Alma is considered royalty. That royalty is what she sometimes felt made her and Jax obligated to get married when he got her pregnant.

Her mother and father were together until Alma was five before they split up. Her mom was tired of the life and wanted a man that was home and most of all faithful. Despite having Alma, her father never wanted to marry her mother. 

She knows there was a time she didn’t see her father for a few months. She was living with her grandmother when Gemma Teller had found them. She doesn’t know what Gemma said, but the next day she was back in Charming. Her mother and Gemma have been enemies ever since. She only knows that the ice had thawed a bit when her father became the first casualty of the Mayan War. 

Though the frigidness returned when Alma became pregnant, her mom advocated for an abortion. She didn’t want her tied down to Jax so young. Her mother didn’t want her to be with anyone from the club. She knows her mom is still disappointed in her decision to marry Jax. It seemed before the ink was even dry on her marriage license her mom had moved out of Charming to live a different life. She was too young to be a grandma, she said. Gemma never forgive her mother for that or for Ana turning her back on the club. 

“A few days ago. She talked to the kids. Told us about a wonderful vineyard she is at with a boyfriend. It’s very kid friendly.”

Gemma snorts. “What in the hell are kids going to do at a vineyard?”

Alma shrugs her shoulders. “Crush grapes?”

“Sometimes, I wonder about your mother. She acts like it’s a burden to come to Charming and see her grandchildren.”

“At least she calls. Sends them things. We video chat. They know her.”

Gemma purses her lips together. She knows there is more on her tongue to say, but she doesn’t waste any more breath on her mother. “Jax mentioned you were thinking about going back to work.”

Alma fights the eye roll. Her husband has very loose lips. She did not want Gemma to find out about this until things were more concrete. She only nods her head as she goes to the fridge to add the pepperoni. 

“You know I could use help in the garage.” Gemma offers. 

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Alma wants something outside of the club. Besides, she does appreciate some distance from her husband. 

Gemma places a hand on her shoulder. “I know things can be hard and sometimes a bit lonely, but you’re not alone, sweetheart. You do have a good husband and a good life, don’t forget that either.”

Friday means no kids until Sunday morning. Gemma keeps the kids on the weekends. It’s more of a break for her than Jax. Of course, depending on Jax’s schedule they would keep the kids, but more often than night, Alma looks forward to the weekends. 

After spending the day cleaning her empty house with her glass of wine, Alma strips out of her sweats and a forgotten oversized shirt of Jax’s. She makes the water hot enough that her skin will be pink and fog the shower in less than a minute. 

She begins her shower with washing her short brown hair. She had cut it short more for convenience. She was getting tired of the hair in her face as she ran after two kids. She knows Jax misses her long hair. She thinks she misses it a bit herself and thinks she might try to grow it out. Maybe even put a few blonde highlights in it. She scrunches her nose as that would mean matching Gemma. 

She sighs as her fingers massage her scalp. Maybe she will dye all of it blonde. She is rinsing off the suds when she hears the slap of metal hitting her bathroom floor. It’s seconds later when the shower door opens. 

“Can you have it any hotter in here?” Jax comments as he steps in. 

“No one asked you to be in here.” She replies as she turns around and steps under the full spray of the water to get rid of the excess water. 

Jax steps under the spray and she huffs as he steals most of the water making him laugh. “Did you see the kids?” She asks as she grabs her soap. 

“Yeah, stopped by my mom’s with Clay. They were already in their pajamas. I was practically shoved out the door for interrupting their time with Grandma.” 

Alma smiles and she pauses her cleaning as she wraps her soapy arms around her husband. “Well don’t worry I won’t kick you out…along as you behave yourself.”

“And what happens if I’m a very bad boy,” he eyes with a waggle of his eyebrow. 

“You’ll get punished.” She tells him as she bite his nipple causing him to jump. 

Alma laughs as she goes back to rubbing soap across her body. Jax moves around her to grab his own soap. The two are in a comfortable silence as they shower. Of course, Jax can’t help himself and get a few gropes here and there. But outside of shower sex being complicated, this had been a routine of theirs after the birth of Nathan and even more so after Kaylee. They found taking a shower is the only time they could talk and enjoy the company of each other without one of their kids wedged between them. 

“You wanna take a ride?” Jax asks as he begins washing his hair. Alma is surprised that Jax doesn’t want to stay home on this Friday night. 

“Every time we go on a ride, I end up pregnant.” Alma jokes. 

Jax’s eyes light up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Alma doesn’t bother replying to his comment. “Is it cold out?” 

“Your denim jacket will do,” he tells her as she steps out of the shower.

Alma squeezes her husband tight as he roars on the open road. He knows she prefers the late rides in the night than those during the day. She loves the wind whipping her hair. She even puts her arms out and screams “she’s flying” as he speeds down the highway. 

Even before they were married or together, she had always begged Jax to take her on rides. He always obliged especially when he was looking for an escape himself. She loves being on a motorcycle. She loves the freedom of the open road. They are on the border of Charming when Jax stops at the gas station with a small store. He claims he needs more cigarettes even though he promised her that she would quit. 

She follows him a few steps behind. She rolls her eyes as he greets the cashier, Louisa. The young blonde seems to be her age, who blushes at his attention. Alma can’t even feel mad as the girl pulls down the front of her shirt to show off a modest cleavage. 

“You want anything, darling?”

Alma stuffs her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket as she follows Jax to the aisle he is standing in. By the smirk on his face, she knows it might get him punched. She finds her husband standing in front of the small display of condoms and lubricates. 

She looks at her husband with a scowl. 

“Hey, you’re the one that isn’t on birth control.” He points out as he skims the different brands and styles. 

“I keep track of my days,” she tells him as she slaps his hand as he picks up a box. “I don’t want a warming condom.”

“We never tried that one before.” He says innocently. 

“You trying to say my pussy’s cold?”

“Never.” He tells her seriously. He swipes a small pack of the ultra-thin. 

“You know, you can buy these by the case. Be a lot cheaper.” She tells him. It’s not like they use them all the time. Just when she is ovulating. She knows that she should just get on birth control especially now that there are more options than the pill. 

“Nah.” He brings an arm around her shoulder.  “A box at a time keeps me humble.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

Jax laughs as he goes to the counter to check out. Louisa’s cheeks are still rosy from Jax’s greeting and Alma spies the white frill peeking from the V-neck of her shirt. She can admit the girl is bold to do that with her standing with Jax. 

Jax pays for his things as he follows her out the door. 

“I think the cashier has a crush on you,” Alma tells him as they reach his bike. 

“What?”

Alma stares at her husband knowingly. 

“Your boobs are bigger.” Alma scoffs at him. Jax gives her a wolfish smile as he approaches her. She’s unprepared for the slap on her ass, which he soothes as he rubs it as he pulls her into his chest. “Besides, you know I’m an ass man.”

“Sometime, I really hate you.” She mumbles against his chest. 

“No you don’t.” He tells her as his hands weave into her hair. He places a soft kiss to her lips, but she chases his lips as she leans on her tippy toes. He meets her lips again and she doesn’t feel bad if she breaks Louisa’s heart. But Jax is her husband and it is disrespectful to try and flirt with a woman’s husband when she is standing right there. 

She’s about to pull back and suggest they go home when the dark sky is lit up. It almost like fireworks are lighting the sky with the booming sky that follows. 

Jax’s body goes rigid. “Shit!”

With the explosion at the creek, the joyous mood had been disintegrated. Jax had loosened his lips enough to tell her that it was one of their warehouses. He didn’t elaborate. Yet, as he stayed most of the day at the clubhouse on Saturday to handle the blowback, according to the news and the paper most knew that the blast belonged to SAMCRO. Alma suspected it was the Mayans. 

Alma spent the day indoors as she didn’t want to deal with the looks or whispers. Jax didn’t come home late in the night and as he cradled her in his arms, he had offered an apology. 

With it being Sunday and not finding the kids at Gemma’s, she had to travel to the Charming Gardens to pick up her kids. This was no doubt a scheming move from Gemma to show the town they had nothing to hide from. 

The kids are too busy feeding the ducks to notice her presence as she finds Gemma sitting on a bench watching the scene with a smile. 

“You could’ve just dropped them off.” Alma says flatly. 

Gemma looks at her from behind her sunglasses. “You need the sun – fresh air.”

“That’s what my backyard is for.”

“Staying in the house only makes you look guilty.” Gemma accuses. 

Alma purses her lips as it isn’t about her. It’s about the kids getting the brunt of the blowback. She knows how cruel parents can be and how it trickles down to their children. She can only imagine the nasty things they are already saying. She knows deep down that the fight Nathan got it has to be from a kid repeating the words of his parents. 

“Gem –“

Alma’s words are cut off as Nathan’s screams for his sister in the park. 

There are times when Jax can fully understand why his mom is crazy overprotective. There is no greater fear or pain than that of bearing witness to your own child’s suffering. He has learned that from the time he had to witness his firstborn stumbling in taking his first small steps. 

Though that fear and hypervigilance was magnified with the birth of Kaylee. They had a child with medical needs – critical – needs. With Kaylee’s birth, he had been transported back in time to watching his mother practically live at the hospital with Thomas. 

He thought he could connect with that pain his parents were feeling – to simply share it. They all loved Thomas, but now as a father; he can truly feel that pain. It’s a pain that never goes away. Never. 

His strides are swift and determined as he walks the halls of St. Thomas. He is more than familiar with the floors of the hospital for the first six months of Kaylee’s life they became a second home. 

He finds his mom sitting in a lounge chair, Nathan clutching her as they rock together. Luann is silent as she holds vigil next to Gemma. 

Clay, Opie, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs are behind him. He is barely aware of their presence as his mom’s eyes connect with his. This pain she can’t hide from him. Her hold on Nathan becomes tighter as she nods to the door next to her. 

He debates if he should comfort Nathan. He debates if he should hold his son, but his mom seems to be enough comfort for now. He moves to the door and can see through the window Alma looking into the adjacent room as they perform surgery on Kaylee. 

He clutches the doorknob as he opens it. A blast of cool air and grief hits him. Alma’s whiskey eyes turn to him. They are wide and scared. He is transported back in time to her being only 18 years old and wondering why Kaylee wasn’t wailing when she gave birth. He remembers seeing how blue Kaylee looked and believing his baby girl had been still born before a broken cry escaped her lips before they took her away. 

He remembers it being weeks before they could hold their daughter without tubes and wires keeping her alive. 

Alma is in his arms immediately. She clings to him and he can feel her tears soaking through his shirt. He clutches her. His hand finds purchase in her brown hair. He wants to say everything will be alright, but he can’t. 

Alma pulls back a little as she looks up at him with watery eyes. “They have to run the wire through her leg, up to her heart.”

“What happened?” The only words that he was able to make out from both her and his mother were Kaylee was in the hospital. Both were crying too hard for him to really understand. 

“She was playing with Nathan when she just collapsed. I don’t know.” Alma sobs. 

It takes everything in Jax not to crumble along with her. He knows that he needs to be strong for his family. He needs to be strong for Alma. He turns his gaze to the operating room. His baby girl is in the center. Wires connected to her to monitor her heart and breathing like it did when she was a newborn. 

He can’t help but notice how small and fragile his girl looks as they work to correct her heartbeat. He presses a kiss to Alma’s head. “It's gonna be okay, darlin’.”

“Like she hasn't been through enough shit.” Alma mutters. 

Jax tugs on her hair making her look up at him. “She’s going to be okay.”

He receives a watery smile as Alma melts into him. 

In the clubhouse getting ready for this current job was the last place Jax wanted to be. He shouldn’t be here really. He should be back at St. Thomas with his family. Kaylee’s surgery was a success and she was staying at the hospital for a couple days as a precaution. 

But business still needed to be handled. He would have opted out. Bobby, Tig, or even Chibs could’ve replaced him. This was his job, a simple one that he and Opie had done many times before. He was still weary on Kyle as the man had been distracted by his marital problems. Besides, this retaliation against the Mayans needed to be done. Jax swaps his white sneakers for his black ones. He slips a gun in his ankle holster. To keep some form of anonymity, they are wearing all black and the kuttes are to be left at the clubhouse. 

He hopes tonight goes by smoothly. When he left, Kaylee was sleeping and Alma had dozed off as well. Nathan was being spoiled by his mother. Jax takes a seat on the edge of the bed in his former dorm room. He still has meager belongings in here. Extra clothes so the kids don’t smell the gunpowder. He has a drawer for Alma and the kids as well. Pictures of his youth are still stuck on the wall. 

A knock comes from the door and Opie pokes his head in. Jax nods his head that it’s safe to come in. 

“You sure you want to do this?”

“It’ll be quick.”

“Kyle and I can handle this on our own, ya know. Or Chibs and Tig can be the extra lookout.”

“It’s like you don’t want me to go.”

Opie smiles. “You should be with your family.”

“I am.” Jax tells him as he stands up. “Besides, you know I got your back.”

“Kaylee will be alright, Jax.”

Jax looks up to his best friend with shiny eyes. He feels like shit that he can’t feel that optimism. Kaylee’s heart will always be a problem. He fears his daughter might suffer the same fate as his brother. 

“No need to go to that dark space, right now.” Opie cautions. 

“I know. I know.” Jax sighs. 

“Well lets go set off some fireworks.”

It all happened so fast. They dispatched the guards quickly, set the boom, and as they enjoyed the fruits of their labor. Sirens were on them immediately. Jax doesn’t know how he lost sight of Opie, but all he knew was Kyle had bailed at the first wail of a cop approaching. Kyle had left them stranded. Worst, Opie had gotten arrested. 

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning as he walks down the halls of St. Thomas to Kaylee’s room. Clay wasn’t too happy and he had debated on calling church immediately. He knew though that there couldn’t be much they could do this late. They would have to hear from Rosen before they could help Opie. Jax was already advocating for Kyle to lose his fucking patch. 

He enters Kaylee’s hospital room to find Alma curled on the chair. There is no convincing his wife to at least sleep at home. She would be back before Kaylee would wake up bright in the morning. Jax walks over to Kaylee where she is sleeping soundly. He watches as her chest goes up and down. He memorized it. He plants a kiss on her forehead. He walks over to Alma. He wants to move her without jostling her too much. He sits beside her on the couch and begins to move her, but she jumps awake. 

“Shh, it’s just me.” He soothes. 

Alma blinks at him rapidly before her eyes dart over to Kaylee. “She’s still sleeping.” He confirms. 

Some tension leaves her shoulders and she moves a bit so he can lay his feet up. She curls on top of him and they tangle their legs together. 

“Everything go okay?” She asks sleepily. 

“We can talk in the morning.”

Alma’s eyes snap back open and she sits up. “What happened?”

His body sags in the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut before they connect with Alma. “Opie got arrested.”

Alma remembers Gemma telling her that the club goes through cycles. It will be extremely calm – downright boring – then things take off rapidly and they can’t catch a break. Alma never had one of these experiences with Jax. She has been lucky her husband has been able to keep his nose clean for the most part. When he got arrested for Gun Running, he had been lucky to only get probation and house arrest for his first official arrest that got his mug shot on the infamous wall. Sure when he was a teen, Jax spent the night in the slammer for public intoxication and public disturbance with Tara. She had been livid for Jax for even getting caught as she had just found out she was pregnant with Kaylee. 

She knows that her situation could be worse. Jax could have done years. Jax could’ve been in Otto’s position, or now Opie’s. 

Alma winces as Ellie lets out another high piercing scream. Donna is clearly frazzled about Opie’s arrest. 

“Donna, let me hold her. You need a break.”

“No, I can do this myself.” Donna insists as she rocks her infant daughter. She had been surprised Donna even let her through the door. Since Opie’s arrest two days ago, Donna had begun to pull away. There was hard evidence against Opie and they all knew he wasn’t going to walk away with a slap on the rest. 

“Don –“

“I don’t need your pity.” Donna snaps. Blue eyes pin her down. Alma isn’t used to this side of Donna. She’s not distraught about Opie being gone. She is fucking angry. Pity isn’t what she has for Donna though. It would be the last thing she would show her friend. 

“I’m just trying to help.”

A bitter laugh escapes Donna’s throat. “Help? Can you tell me exactly why my husband was in San Leandro committing arson?”

Alma purses her lips. She finds Kenny staring at them with wide eyes. She looks away from him as she can’t imagine being in Donna’s situation. She doesn’t know how she could even explain to her children why Jax couldn’t come home. 

“Donna –“

“Tell me the truth.” Donna begs. 

Alma’s nails dig into her palm. She can’t tell Donna why. There are rules to this. It was Opie’s choice not to tell Donna anything. She has to respect that. She can’t undermine a patch even if it’s her job as an old lady to support another one. Donna deserves the truth, but she knows the truth isn’t really going to bring her any peace. It would just give her more ammunition to blame the club. 

“It’s not my place,” Alma tells her. 

Donna scoffs. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Alma replies. “It’s just that Opie should be the one to tell you this.”

“Why? Because I’m his old lady?” Donna seethes. 

“Because it should come from him.”

“You should go.”

Alma feels as if she has been slapped. “Don –“

“I want you to leave.”

Alma seals her mouth shut. It’s best to respect Donna’s wishes and she doesn’t want to make things worse. She grabs her purse and heads to the door when Donna relays her last parting words. 

“Tell the club I don’t need their charity.”

Alma arrives at Kaylee's hospital room to find Gemma reading a book to her granddaughter. There are smiles on both of their faces as Gemma changes her voice for each different character. After her visit to Donna, this is a very welcomed sight to see. 

Alma smiles as she walks over to the couch and sits. She listens to Gemma finish the story while Kaylee’s eyes become heavy. 

The stress and meds have Kaylee more tired than usual. Alma closes her own eyes as she lets her body sag against the couch. The past few days have taken a serious toll on her body. She might need a nap of her own. 

“Come take a walk with me.”

Alma’s eyes snap open as Gemma peers down on her. Alma doesn’t really want to leave. She doesn’t want Kaylee to wake up alone in this hospital room. Gemma also isn’t really asking though. Alma moves up from the couch and follows Gemma out to the hall. She thinks they are going to go to the chapel. Despite Gemma never stepping foot in a church since her teen years, she knows Gemma is still a preacher’s daughter at heart. Gemma still prays and looks for guidance. 

Instead Gemma takes them outside to a bench. The biker matriarch digs through her enormous leather bag and plucks a cigarette. She’s surprised it isn’t one of her medicinal cigarettes. Alma joins her at the bench silent. Gemma takes a few puffs as they watch the traffic. 

“I take it Donna isn’t too happy.” Gemma surmises as she turns to look at her through her sunglasses. 

“It’s a shitty situation.”

Gemma hums. “It could be worse.”

Alma knows Opie could be dead. She thinks Donna knows that too. Even then, Gemma has lived through worse with the club. She had lost both of her husbands to significant amounts of prison time. Alma had lost her own father to prison. 

Alma has already lost her father and Gemma lost a husband. They know that prison is tame compared to the alternative. 

“She should at least know the truth.”

Gemma flicks her cigarette. The ashes smear against the pavement. “That isn’t our place.”

Alma folds her arms around herself. “Is it bad…is it wrong that when I was there all I could think about how lucky I am that Jax didn’t get locked up.”

“No, sweetheart.” Gemma comforts. “But don’t take for granted that it could’ve been.”

Kaylee is discharged from the hospital late in the night. Jax is carrying her to her room to put her  right to bed. Nathan follows his father. Alma walks into the kitchen with Kaylee's medical information. She fills a glass of water up and drinks it in a few seconds. She fills it again and downs it again. She places the cup in the sink and opens the folder. She first reads the general summary of Kaylee’s stay along with the new updated meds. She works to memorize the side effects. 

But the paper she gives her full attention to is the medical bill. Kaylee will always have medical problems, which translate to bills. Sure, Jax makes more than most, but the money isn’t exactly clean and it is a process to make it something they can really use. Insurance only covers so much. 

Most importantly this is a single income home. Jax works. Jax makes the money. He provides financial stability. 

Jax walks back into the kitchen and stands behind her. He places his chin on her shoulder and gets a good look at what she is looking at. His arm reaches out and moves the papers. “Don’t worry about that.”

Alma turns. She looks up at her husband. She can see the stress and worry in his eyes not only from Kaylee, but the situation with Opie. They still haven’t really talked about what exactly went down. 

“I could be in Donna’s position right now.” She tells him. Unlike Donna, she has no job. She wouldn’t be able to support her children. She wouldn’t know what to do. “I mean…do you even know how long Opie’s sentence is going to be?”

Jax cups her cheek. “Don’t worry about that.”

He silences her response with a kiss. She knows he needs a distraction. She lets herself become one. 

5 years. 

Opie was sentenced to 5 years in Chino. A six hour drive away. The judge showed no mercy on the husband and father to two small children. Alma was sure that this had been a small consolation to the government as they couldn’t connect the club to any of the charges they had tried to pin to the club for years. 

But 5 years minimum, that was the plea deal. Opie wouldn’t be able to get out sooner unless there was some type of miracle. As the sentence had left the judge’s lips, she heard Clay and Jax already muttering that they needed to secure protection fast for Opie quickly. 

Alma felt stupid she didn’t think far ahead that he would even need protection. Alma’s worries had been solely focused on Donna. 

Despite Donna’s anger, the small brunette didn’t turn away from her support today. She had already seen how her parents were whispering in her ear. The words divorce seemed to be a favorite with her parents. Thankfully, Mary can't hide her disdain to herself about Opie’s choices. Mary may have been an absent – distant mother, but she was making it up through being a grandparent. 

Alma closes the door to Donna’s room. Donna had regretfully accepted a valium to calm down and had dozed off. Alma had promised her that she would stay until tomorrow with Mary to keep an eye on the kids. Ellie being a baby doesn’t understand what is going on. Worse is the little girl won’t really know her father outside of prison visits. Kenny knows what is going on, but he doesn’t understand. Alma knows that it won’t hit the little boy until the first visit in Chino. She worries though that those visits will be far and in between. Mary had let it slip Donna had already talked to her about watching the kids more so she could pick up over time. 

Alma checks on the kids, who are blissfully sleeping despite everything. She walks into the living room to find Mary folding clothes. Mary seems awfully comfortable and at home in the house. 

“She sleeping?” Mary inquires. 

“Yeah,” Alma replies as she stands unsure. She bends her fingers. The house is already clean. There’s nothing to really do. 

“Sit down. I don’t bite.” 

Alma looks at her with wide eyes, but does sit on the couch opposite from her. Even when Mary was around, Alma never was close to her like she was to Gemma or Luann. She always remembers Mary being bitter. At the time, she was too young to really understand why. 

Though now, she knows Piney’s infidelities weren’t even close to a secret. Being married to a patch now, she knows it’s not easy. She knows some might say it’s weak to walk away, but she admires those you have the strength to. Alma thinks it would be easier to stay. She had been 14 when Mary had finally got her divorce after years of estrangement.

It seemed Mary didn’t look back until the birth of Kenny 6 years ago. 

Mary’s hazel’s eyes scrutinize her. “You look like your mother.”

 “Uhh…thanks.”

“It broke her heart when you got pregnant by Jax, no less.” Mary adds. “You were only a child. He knew better.”

Alma resists the urge to roll her eyes. She already knows her mother’s feelings about the father of her children and her relationship with him. 

“Your mother and I speak from experience. Don’t dismiss our knowledge.” Mary adds. “Do you see what Donna is going through? It could’ve been you.”

“You think I don’t know that.” Alma protests. 

“Just because you have children with Jax doesn’t mean you have to be with him.” Mary elaborates. “This life is just pain and suffering. Look at Donna, Luann, your mother, and hell even Gemma.”

“You only talk about this when times are bad.” Alma refutes weakly. Everyone is ready to hurdle the greatest insults when times are regrettably bloody. Yet, there is only silence when the bank account becomes heavy. When there are riches to indulge in. 

Mary shakes her head. “I wanted Opie out of this, but he went running back to his father. This club will always come first to all of them. As a mother, do you think I wanted this for my son? Do you want this for your own son?”

Alma feels a ball forming in her throat. Of course she wants more for her son – children. But as a mother she can only do so much without stifling or hindering their child from being their own person. “All I know is that whatever choice my son makes I wouldn’t abandon him. I would be there to support him and guide him even when he is wrong.”

The clubhouse is quiet. They had already known what Opie’s sentence was going to be. He had taken a plea bargain. There wasn’t going to be any surprising developments. No judge was going to grant leniency. Opie was doomed from the moment he got arrested.  

But there is someone Jax can lay the blame on. There is someone who should be in jail right now and not his best friend. The club hadn’t decided to make any decisions yet. They wanted to be focused on Opie. Give their full attention to his best friend and how they were going to provide protection for him in prison. How they were going to support Donna for these next five years. Yet, for Jax it took everything in his power to not kill Kyle from where he stood. The vote on what to do with Kyle wasn’t going to be until Sunday night. It was only Tuesday. 

Jax takes another swing from his sweating beer bottle. He knows Alma is going to stay the night over at Donna’s and his kids are with his mom. He thinks after a few more drinks he might just make the journey over to Opie’s. He knows if the positions were reversed that Opie would be with Alma and his kids. He takes another drink of his beer and finishes it. The Prospect takes it and quickly replaces it with another one. 

Jax holds the bottle as he turns around. The depressed mood doesn’t stop a party. It’s not the loud ones they are used to entertaining. But the booze, weed, and scantily clad women still roam around the room. 

Nothing like losing a brother, thankfully to just prison, to make them appreciate their freedom and the overabundance of pussy.

Jax ignores the eyes wandering over his melancholy frame. Despite Alma’s constant presence and the signs of a happy and satisfying marriage, women still try to tempt him to stray into their bed. He thinks the only activity he might participate in is the ring. Since Happy came into town, he knows that the nomad won’t hold his punches either. The only thing he would have to worry about is Alma’s fretting and narrowed eyes as she scolds him about what in the hell he would explain to their kids about his owies. 

Maybe he should just leave. After everything with Opie and Kaylee, he needs to be with his wife and his kids. It’s not too late and he still can stop by his mom’s before heading to be with Alma. 

He swallows the rest of his beer and ignores the slight brain freeze he gets. He moves from the bar. 

“You headin’ home, Jackie Boy?’ Chibs asks as he joins him on the way to the door. 

“Yeah, I’m going to check on the kids then to Alma.”

Chibs grips his shoulders. “We’ll get through this, ya hear me.”

“I know.” Jax tells him with a small smile. He just needs to be strong for Ope’s family and for Opie. 

Chibs smiles as they exit the clubhouse. The sun is low and in 20 minutes the streetlights will kick on. His kids are probably going to get ready for a movie and popcorn. 

“Jax?”

Chibs smile falls and Jax’s body goes still. The few who lingered outside go deathly quiet as they look back and forth between Jax and the owner of the voice. 

Jax makes a fist as for the first time in weeks he has looked at Kyle. He took it upon himself to bar Kyle from meetings and the clubhouse until Opie’s sentence. But now…Jax sees red. 

One second Jax is standing next to Chibs and the next he has gripped Kyle by his short as he slams him onto the table. 

He doesn’t register the table collapsing under their weight. How the spilt beer is creating a puddle around them. 

Jax and Kyle are similar in weight and height. However, Jax is leaner while Kyle has an extra couple pounds with his bulk. They all used to work out together. Him, Kyle, and Opie spent hours in the gym together, so Jax is familiar with Kyle’s weak spots. Jax has the advantage of surprise and his fucking rage as he straddles Kyle and his hands latch onto the man’s neck and restrict his air ways.

Kyle doesn’t go for punches as he tries to pry his hands away from his neck. Jax is partially aware of the silence. 

Though he feels hands on him when he notices Kyle is turning a dangerous shade of blue. 

“Jackie Boy,” Chibs shouts as he manages to hook his arms underneath his shoulders. Chibs manages to loosen his hold and pulls him away for a few precious seconds. 

But Chibs can’t combat the fire inside of him. Jax shakes himself loose from his hold. Kyle only has time to worry about replenishing his oxygen when Jax strikes again. 

The first punch, Jax connects with Kyle’s temple. 

The second punch, Jax feels his knuckles take the brunt of hitting him in the Jax. 

The third punch busts Kyle’s nose. 

The fourth punch has blood coating Kyle’s left eye like mascara and eyeshadow. 

The fifth punch, Kyle accepts defeat. 

The sixth punch, Kyle spits out blood as Chibs and Tig manage to pull Jax off him.  

“It’s done!” Chibs shouts in his face. 

Jax resists the urge to spit on Kyle’s prone form as he walks away to his bike. 

The first month seems to be the easiest Alma thinks. The wound is too fresh to really notice what Opie’s absence feels like. Alma never really realized how much Opie was so integrated into her life. She forgot how much Opie would stop by to visit with or without Donna and the kids. Even though he had kids of his own, he played the role of doting Uncle to a T. Better yet, he was someone she could lean on when Jax would get on her nerves. 

There were no more Sundays of him and Jax rotating spending the day together in one of their garages restoring a bike to sell or keep for their own sons. It’s hard to let go of him being a phone call away. The reassurance of him there is something he can’t rely on. 

It’s the second month that Alma realizes she needs to find a way to fill the hole of his absence. 

She doesn’t ask what happened to Kyle. She figured it out when Jax came home with bloody hands. April, Kyle’s wife of 3 years, divorced him under the guise of infidelity, but staying in Charming with the kids. She wasn’t blind to his missing picture on their mugshot wall of fame. 

She tries to help Donna as much as she can or the woman will allow, but she can only try so much before she becomes angry herself. She doesn’t know how to explain to Donna that Opie’s patch has nothing to do with the help she is offering. Her wanting to help Donna has nothing to do with her obligations of being an Old Lady. She finds it best for now to let Donna simmer. She hopes maybe the fire will turn to ash at some point. Alma will still be there no matter what. 

Besides, she has Jax to focus on too. She thinks he is handling it better than she anticipated, or the fact as a patch is a consequence of the life they chose. He still has his days where he will ride by himself in the glowing twilight, or in the hazy dawn of the morning. 

By somehow the days glide by and it is a sticky summer day for the annual “Fun Town” festival. On top of that, her mother is in town. Her mother’s visits are not really welcomed by anyone outside of her kids. They are still young enough to not really notice the tension she brings to Jax and Gemma. 

“Is Donna coming to Fun Town?” Ann asks her. Jax had taken Nathan to get his haircut before heading to the festival. Kaylee decided to tag along so she wouldn’t feel left out. 

“No, most weekends she heads to her parents.”

“Such a shame,” Ann adds with a sigh. “Just to think that could’ve been you.”

Alma doesn’t reply. She begins switching her purse to a smaller one, but big enough to carry emergency items that are needed for small children. 

“I can say that I didn’t think this would’ve lasted as long as it did, or maybe you are better with the out of sight out of mind.”

Alma’s spine stiffens. She knows her mom is talking about the run policy. Technically, Jax could do whatever he wanted. The boys would see no wrong as long as he isn’t on their home turf. She had no cause to complain or cause strife. 

She also isn’t blind to her husband’s look or life choices before he knocked her up. Since he hit puberty Jax always had a different girl on his arm. Even when Tara had been his first serious girlfriend it didn’t stop his wandering eyes. She can recall the many times he had use that insecurity to ruffle Tara’s feathers on one of their numerous breaks. 

Worse, she wasn’t even anything to Jax when they slept together that one time that got her pregnant. When she really thinks about it, Jax's sudden desire to sleep with her had to be him simply marking his territory. She had been dating Josh Collins. Her first real boyfriend, one she suspected she loved. He had been pressuring her a bit to take that final plunge. She was rightfully nervous. Being raised in the club, a reputation had been bestowed on her. 

They had a terrible fight at a party. She had called Jax with tears running down her face. Of course, Jax and Josh got into a fight that only happened when Josh had accused her of already sleeping with Jax. 

Jax had taken her home. He offered to stay. Her mom was gone for the weekend. Jax claimed he didn’t want to be at the clubhouse. He had been more subdue, or sad really. Tara had finally decided she was going to college far away from Charming. 

It was natural to find comfort in Jax’s arms as she told him everything. How she was going to sleep with Josh for the very first time. Jax was sort of her best friend like Opie. They were her protectors. Her everything at that point. 

But when Jax kissed her, he simply became more. 

When it was over she felt guilty and embarrassed. She told Jax that it could never happen again. After all, technically he was with Tara still. She could never be that girl. She was only barely 16 and him being on the cusp of 18, he has a newbie patch. What she would want wouldn’t fit in what he could give her. 

She pushed him away. Her and Josh broke up especially after she learned that Amanda Green had tended to his wounds. 

Four months later, she was staring at jeans that couldn’t fit any more and denial burning her throat as she released her guilt in porcelain. 

And sure there were bumps in the road with her relationship with Jax. She was young. She still is. 

She remembers the many arguments her parents had over the other women. It wasn’t until after the birth of Nathan when she came back from her six week checkup that she set the terms with Jax. She couldn’t share him. Just because they had a son didn’t mean they needed to be together. She didn’t care about him having to soothe the scandal of him messing with a first 9’s daughter. The only daughter that was a “legacy”. 

For six years she has trusted Jax, she isn’t going to let her mind unravel that now. She and Jax aren’t her parents. She’s not her mother. 

“Mom, can we please not do this? Can you at least try to be civil to Jax?” Alma implores. 

“How can I be civil towards him? He took advantage of you. You were 16! He knew better!”

“Mom, I could’ve said no, but I didn’t.” Alma says tired of this argument. She feels her mom brings up the same facts every time. “Besides, there is nothing in the world that would make me take back Nathan and Kaylee.”

The mention of Nathan and Kaylee cracks her mom’s righteous façade a little. “I love my grandbabies, I do, Al, but can’t you see things from my perspective? It hurts me to know you’re stuck here in this town. I worry that one day I might get a phone call about Jax going to jail or being killed.” Her mom’s breath catches in her throat. She wishes her mom could simply just ask her about the weather or hell what laundry detergent she uses. She doesn’t really want to dismiss her mother’s words. She was an old lady and it obviously changed her. 

The front door opens and Nathan and Kaylee look like blurs as they run into the kitchen. Alma holds them tight as she presses kisses to their heads. Her mother watches with a sad smile. 

Thankfully her mom doesn't spend her time in Charming at one of the fancy hotel franchises the Hale’s own. The Ramada is too low class for her. 

Alma is fresh from the shower and has just wrapped her hair in a microfiber towel when Jax approaches from behind. 

He holds her close and sways a bit. She closes her eyes as she leans back and enjoys this simple moment. She runs her fingers over the tattoo memorial of his father and of their son’s name. 

“I think today went well all things considered.” She opens her eyes to find Jax nods his head. She knows that he doesn’t really agree. She turns around and folds her fingers behind his neck. “What?”

His hands find her hips as he nudges her back into the countertop and as if she weighs nothing, he places her on top. He begins to rub circles into her thighs. “You know I don’t like your mother.”

“And…”

Jax’s blue eyes burn into her whiskey ones. “I just feel like she only criticizes you. She always has something to complain about.”

“If she didn’t she wouldn’t be my mother.”

“Al…” Her husband whines. 

“Jax…” She mocks. 

“I’m being serious.” Jax replies as he makes his home between her thighs. She splits her legs to accommodate him as the fabric of her black short cotton robe bunches at her thighs. 

“I don’t know what to say Jax.” After all, her mother saves her grievances just for her. Ann knows better than to badmouth Jax in front of the kids. Her hands find purchase in his blonde hair. She presses a kiss to his check and nose. She manages to get a smile before she meets his lips. He is at first reluctant, but as she presses her body into his and her legs lock around him, he sighs against her lips. She immediately deepens the kiss as her tongue demands entrance into his mouth. 

Jax groans and she smiles as he melts into her kiss. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips. 

She loves him no matter what her mother says. She loves him as the father of her children. She loves him as her husband. She loves him as the man that doesn’t complain when she needs him to paint her toenails because she is too lazy to do it. She loves him not despite his flaws but because of them. 

Jax throws an extra pair of his jeans in his bag as he watches Alma pout from the bed. The run was impromptu as ATF had made a temporary home in Charming. It had Hale’s stink all over it. Hale seemed to have a little heart as he at least waited for the dust to settle on Opie’s arrest before making his move. It seemed despite the four months since the warehouse explosion it was enough evidence for the ATF to grapple onto. 

Now they need to find somewhere to store their guns after the vomit inducing storage crate they were forced to do after an impromptu search. Now they were heading into Nevada to visit Uncle Jury. Usually Alma doesn’t linger or pout this much, but with her mother’s recent visit she seems to plant non-existent troubles that he needs to weed through. 

He zips his bag and he plants both hands on the side of Alma’s face. She frowns and he laughs as her nose scrunches up. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Why do you have to go?” Alma presses. 

“Because Uncle Jury likes me better.”

“Or he likes your money.”

Jax’s lips tug up. “Maybe.”

Alma punches him in the stomach and Jax manages to pull her tight against him. “I’m just…it’s…Nevada is Mayan territory, Jax.”

Jax feels guilty that he immediately thought Alma was worried about the brothel Uncle Jury called him that would be open to Jax. Alma never has hassled him on croweaters and the run policy since their one and only conversation after Nathan was born. She trusted him and he wasn’t stupid. He was more than satisfied with what he had at home. 

“I’ll be careful.” He promises. “It’s just me and Bobby. Low profile.”

“You can’t be low profile with that kutte and bike, Jackson.” Alma remarks bitterly. 

“Hey…” Jax says as he looks into her dark eyes. Alma may be moody sometimes before runs, but she usually isn’t like this. He knows she isn’t on her period as despite 6 years of marriage she isn’t comfortable with period sex. So it’s always at least a week each month they go without sex. “Something else bothering you?”

Alma pulls back from him and she falls back onto the bed. She spreads out and sighs. “Sorry.”

Jax eyes his wife’s form. She covers her eyes with her forearm, but she doesn’t elaborate. He peeks at the skin that has been exposed from her sudden movements. He smiles as he bends down and blows a raspberry against her stomach. 

Alma jerks and he immediately locks her down and begins blowing more. “Jax, stop!” Alma yelps between laughter. 

It isn’t long before their kids become curious as they jump on the bed. He is easily outnumbered as they work to save their mom. It isn’t long before small hands pull him down to the bed. He lies on the bed, his cheeks hurt from the laugher and smiles. As he looks at his family, their eyes sparkling, he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. 

With Jax gone, Alma is left alone with the kids. Being a weekday, both of them have school. It leaves Alma with plenty of time for herself. Despite many offers to watch Ellie for Donna free of charge, Donna only takes advantage on Thursday and Friday. Being Monday, Alma finds herself with nothing to do. She feels guilty for abandoning her job search, but with everything happening to Opie it seemed that would have been the last thing anyone needed. With a clean house and no kids, Alma finds herself driving the familiar route to the clubhouse. 

It’s weird to think that this structure out of brick and wood has such a significant importance to her life. 

Maybe Gemma needs help, or wants to go to lunch. 

She pulls into a parking spot. The lot is busy and loud from the machines. She waves to the workers. Tig whistles at her. She flips him off. She finds Gemma in the office with a stack of paperwork. Her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Alma smiles as she sits on the couch. “Hey.”

“Bored?” Gemma questions. 

Alma shrugs her shoulders. 

Gemma chuckles. She pulls the glasses off her face. “Missing Jax?” She surmises and looks at the clock. “He isn’t around for you to give him his afternoon snack.”

Alma wrinkles her nose. “Gross. I came to see if you wanted lunch or help.”

“I could always use an extra pair of hands, or the company.” Gemma replies. “But today isn’t all that bad, but thanks for the offer. We can leave for lunch though in about 30.”

“Anytime,” Alma replies. “So have you met this ATF agent?”

Gemma shakes her head. “No, but I imagine she is going to start sniffing pretty soon. You and I will be the next target.”

“Lovely,” Alma drawls. 

“I’m more worried about Donna.”

“Why?”

“You see how much she misses Opie. Probably would do anything to get him back.”

Alma doesn’t know whether to be offended for her friend or not. She knows that Donna would never do that. No matter the desperation, anger, or sorrow. “She wouldn’t…”

“This Agent is going to push and pull at her. The smallest of things could take these boys down. Opie was so worried about keeping her in this bullet it might backfire. It will backfire.”

“We shouldn’t…we shouldn’t write her off and think about her like that. If she wanted to do that…she would’ve when the charges were first coming down hard.” Alma says in defense of her friend. 

Gemma doesn’t say anything. Alma knows Gemma is cynical of most things. 

“You could try to be…nicer.” Alma hedges. 

“Nice?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“Hmm, maybe she shouldn’t stick her nose up then. She knew who Opie was. Knew where his loyalties lie.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t born in this Gemma. You can’t deny that the first time John got locked up that he was angry and hurt.”

Gemma softens at the mention of John. Though the look is immediately washed away by her standard hardened exterior.  “Still you don’t turn your back on family.”  Gemma doesn’t add like Mary did and Ann did. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Precious, Bobby’s ex-wife was on that list as well. 

“Just give her time.”

“That’s like watering a dead flower,” Gemma answers before answering the garage’s business line.

Jax feels guilty that it took six months before he could visit his friend in Chino. One, he didn’t want to take away any visits from Donna. He would have gone on more trips if she was refusing to allow them to follow her. She would make the trip early in the morning to make it there by 11 am. She spent the whole duration of Opie’s visiting hours for the trip she would only take once a month. Her only day off during her workweek was Sunday as she was working overtime on Saturdays. He wasn’t sure how Donna was doing it. 

But Jax kept up with his friend through phone calls and letters. After making sure Donna didn’t mind if he had this Sunday, he booked the visit after the long wait of his paperwork to be approved. He knows he plans on making a visit with his kids and Alma. He just knows that the judge had been particularly petty to sentence Opie six hours away. 

Despite Rosen’s pleas, Opie has been denied transfer to Stockton. Rosen advised it would be smart to exhaust, but wait a year into his sentence to show he is a model inmate. 

Jax enters the cold and stale visiting room. He scans the lot and finds his friend already sitting. A wide smile is on his face. Jax rushes over and immediately braces his friend tightly. He is taken back by the weight his friend has already lost, but he embraces his friend tightly. 

“I miss ya, bro.” Jax tells him. 

“Me too. Thanks for the pictures of the kids and Alma. Feels more like home.” 

They both take a seat in the hard chairs. “You need anything? Money?”

“Your mom already has me covered,” Opie says with a chuckle. Jax can only imagine the smoke Opie is accumulating from poker games, or better yet the small commissary he is probably building. 

“How’s art class?” Jax asks cryptically. It was their code for the Nords. It was a hard bargain brokering the deal with the wannabe Nazi’s as it came to a hard line that they wouldn’t mess with the Nords as long as they didn’t sell in Charming. 

“It’s been easy. Been working on the landscape.” Opie is working on feeling them out. “The fence needs some work, but I’m happy I don’t need to paint a tool shed.” Opie hasn’t been asked to do anything to compromise his sentence. He is just the appearance of muscle. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Actually, I might need you to talk to Rosen for me.” 

Jax’s brows furrow. “For what?”

Opie scratches his black beanie. “Donna’s not happy. I don’t want to keep her tied down.”

Jax feels his mouth go dry. “Wait…you’re thinking about a divorce?”

“5 years is a long time.”

“So?”

Opie buries his face in his hands. “Can we ignore who we are for a second and look at the reality. I’m stuck here for five years minimum, that is if I can get on parole. It’s not right for me to expect her to wait.”

“Ope, people have gone through longer sentences. Christ, it’s not like you’re in here for murder or some shit.”

“But we’re not other people.” Opie replies. “I can already see the toll this is taking on her. This isn’t even about me and my feelings. This is about Donna.”

“Donna just wants you to keep your head down and come home.” Jax interjects. 

“Did she actually say that?” Opie implores. 

A heavy feeling settles in Jax’s guys as he imagines the type of stilted visits Opie has been enjoying for the past six months. “Ope…she’s just adjusting…”

Opie snorts. “I don’t want her to become bitter and angry because of me. I don’t want her to stay when she is unhappy. What happens when I come home?” Opie looks up at him with wide hazel eyes. “Whatever…trust…we had is broken. She’ll always been suspicious. I’ll turn her into someone she’s not.”

“Christ, Ope, it’s only been six months. See where you are a year from now. If Al –“

“Don’t tell, Alma, please just keep this between us.” Opie begs. 

Jax would’ve laughed if his best friend wasn’t deadly serious. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I can already hear her screaming in my head. She would probably scalp me over the phone.” Opie jokes. 

Jax chuckles. “Yeah and she would take it out on me.”

“Thank her for me. I know she is probably the only person in Donna’s corner.”

“You just can’t think negative bro. Sure Donna’s pissed, but dwelling on this isn’t going to help you through this. If Donna was really pissed she wouldn’t be making these 6 hour trips. You need to hold on to what’s good. Not let it go.”

The “Taste of Charming” festival is Gemma’s annual PR campaign. Charming has a love hate relationship with the club. They are willing to turn a blind eye to all the shit until it gets bloody. Charming doesn’t complain that it keeps the franchises out of the town. It kept everything local and contained. 

Like they weren’t complaining about this year’s good will campaign was going to benefit the school’s music program. 

Alma did her part and helped with the flyers, setting up, and she even let her kids used their wide innocent eyes to sell tickets for the many raffles. 

However, her main focus is looking after Donna. It took her forever to even agree to come to the annual fundraisers. She knows Donna has slowly become more reclusive since Opie’s prison sentence began. She wants to tell Donna that hiding is only going to make things worse. 

The only good thing is the kids are having fun. 

Donna is watching the kids play with water guns when Alma joins her with a funnel cake and pop. Donna gives her a small smile as she accepts the food. 

They eat in silence. It’s how it is between them now. Neither of them knows how to fill the silence if it doesn’t revolve around the kids. She hates how things are turning out between them. 

“Thanks for coming out Donna.” Alma settles on. 

The brunette prison widow nods her head. “There’s no point in hiding away.”

“Don –“

“It’s alright. I know how I’ve been. But thank you for being here even with the things I’ve said.”

“I know that you do the same for me.” Alma soothes as she reaches out and grabs her hand. 

“But I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Donna begins. “I’ve seen April Hobart around…what happened to Kyle?”

Alma freezes. “He left.”

Donna scrunches her brows. “Left?” 

“Yeah. He’s not a member and him and April got a divorced.”

“He just left though?” Donna repeats. “You can do that?”

As Donna’s wide and hopeful eyes look up at her, Alma knows her friend has hope – dangerous false hope. She needs to find a way out of this conversation. Alma goes to open her mouth to explain it is much more complicated than just leaving. 

She jumps as hands enclose around her waist and she finds a kiss being planted on her head. Sandalwood, gasoline, leather, and smoke flood her senses. 

“Kids know their way around a gun,” Jax jokes, but Donna does not find it funny as her face falls. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Donna mumbles as she makes a quick exit. 

Alma turns to her husband and glares at him. “Really, Jax?”

He gives her a blank stare as he straddles the picnic bench and caging her slightly between his thighs. He steals some pieces of her funnel cake. “I saw her staring at April. I could tell where the conversation was going.”

“Don’t you think she should know everything?” She didn’t see the benefit of keeping Donna in the dark. She deserved to know the whole truth. 

“What would the truth do? Doesn’t change that Opie still is going to rot in jail for the next five years.” Jax remarks bitterly. 

“I would want the truth.” Alma interjects. 

“You already have it.”

“But if I didn’t. It’s almost like you’re…” Alma stops herself before she can really say what’s on her mind. 

“We’re what?”

Alma backs down. “Nothing. It doesn’t change anything anyways.”

Jax’s blue eyes soften and he pulls her into his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

But it doesn’t stop her from thinking that it could’ve been him too. 

Jax is grateful that his one meet for the day was with Piney’s old jarhead buddy. He had a bad feeling about the son. When it comes to selling guns, but Jax had made a hard peace with the fact the bullets of the guns aren’t doling out harmless water. 

He didn’t want to think about the moral ramification of his outlaw ways. The kids would still be at school and it left him with a few hours of alone time with his wife. A lecherous smile comes across his face as he thinks about the naughty things he has planned, but stops at the couple of unfamiliar cars parked in his driveway. 

He enters the house and he is immediately hit with the scent of nail polish, acetone, and his ears already ring from the high pitched squeals, which he supposes is categorized as laughter. 

He walks through to the dining room near the open windows where Alma usually has her mini nail salon set up. 

It’s been awhile since Alma had people over to do nails. In fact, she hasn’t mentioned how her job search was going, or if she even was still looking for a job. 

He doesn’t feel like dealing with curious eyes. They are both aware of the fact most of the people that went to Alma for her nails were just curious about the state of her marriage to Jax. 

Jax walks into the kitchen and goes into the fridge where the laughter seems to stop at his arrival. He turns and leans against the counter and is relieved to find that Alma is in the process of cleaning up as the woman’s hand is under some fancy drying contraption. 

Eying the beach blonde stringy hair and the orange tan, he recognizes the girl as Alicia Rogan, who is drying her nails and the companion is Diane Lawrence. Both girls were on the cheerleading team in high school. Alicia had tried to give him a blow job on one of his numerous breaks with Tara in high school. She does possess a decent rack and he had heard stories about her certain skill set from rumors in school. Though he also heard about her having some problems he wasn’t looking to contract. 

Diana had always turned her nose up at him. 

“Well, I’ll let you two be. I can only imagine how exhausting two kids can be.” Alicia says sweetly as she passes Alma some money. “I’ll see you in two weeks. It was nice seeing you, Jax.”

Jax gives them both a tight smile as they find their own way out of the house. Jax takes a swing of his beer as he watches Alma clean up. She is wearing short jean shorts, a white wife beater, along with one of his flannels. Her brown hair is up in a very sloppy bun. 

“So should I expect more strangers in the house?”

Alma rolls her eyes. “They honestly just showed up. Must be bored with their crop of gossip.”

“So we are just so entertaining?”

“You’re something to look at.” Alma retorts as she enters the kitchen and then washes her hands. 

“Well this merchandise is off the market.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

Jax smiles. “So how is the job search going?”

“I think there have been more pressing matters to deal with.” 

“Maybe, but you’re already doing so much, I don’t want you to forget about yourself, babe.” Jax explains as he comes up behind her. 

“Its just…Donna needs my help. And maybe right now isn’t the right time.”

“If you say so.”

Alma turns around and her fingers trail over his kutte. “So are you done for the day?”

“Just me and you, babe.” Jax informs her as he grips the back of her thighs and throws her over his shoulder as he races to their bedroom. 

The kids had an in-service day. Jax was working at the garage. The kids were outside running in the backyard. Jax had recently bought them a trampoline and as it was new they were spending every second outside jumping on it. 

Alma is inside making them a simple lunch of a sandwich, chips, and apples and peanut butter. She has just grabbed the some juice boxes when a knock comes from the door. Opening it she finds a tall scrawny blonde in a pantsuit and blonde hair staring at her with an amused smile. 

“Can I help you?” Alma greets. She has a feeling she knows who this woman is. 

“Mrs. Teller, I’m Agent Stahl, A.T.F.” The woman shows her badge. “May I come in?”

“You got a warrant?”

Stahl raises an eyebrow. “I just have a few questions. I’m not here for anything more.”

Alma clenches her jaw, but opens the door wider. She leads the agent to the small kitchen table. “Wait, here.” She orders. 

Alma goes to the sliding door and calls for her kids that its time for lunch. She directs them to the living room and allows them to eat while watching TV, something she doesn’t normally do. It’s enough to distract them though that they don’t pay attention to the fed lingering in the kitchen. 

“Cute kids.” Stahl comments. “I think your son thinks like your father.”

Alma scowls. “You said you had some questions.”

“Do you know any illegal activity that your husband, Jax Teller, or the Sons of Anarchy are involved in?”

“No.”

“What about your husband’s whereabouts yesterday morning?”

“He was here, at the garage, and came back. There were no kids home so it was just us.”

“Well that was easy.” Stahl says as she hikes her purse up her shoulder. 

“What are you even looking for?”

“You know I seen your friend Donna. I can tell Opie Winston’s prison sentence is taking a very hard toll. You have two beautiful children, you’re young. I hope your children don’t know what it's like to lose a father from prison or a bullet. I know you know how that feels.“

“I think you should go. I already answered your questions.”

“Right. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again.”

Alma follows Stahl all the way to do the door. She waits until the woman’s government issued car is down the block before she goes to her computer and loads up the Charming Gazette. The top story of the day is of a prison van escort being ambushed by men with guns. A cop was killed in the attack. 

Jax stubs his cigarette in the ashtray as he sits next to Clay in the Pub. It’s the local Irish spot where they meet their contact from the IRA. Jax thinks it’s a little on the nose, but it’s only a meet. They don’t exchange anything outside of words and some cash. There isn’t anything to connect what the money could be exchanged for. 

“You alright, son?”

Jax’s  blue eyes flicker over to Clay’s. “He’s late.” 

Clay nods his head. Jax can see the tension in his stepfather’s shoulders. It seems hit after hit keeps coming from the warehouse explosion, Opie’s prison sentence, and the prison transport van being attacked. Thankfully, there was nothing to connect them to being the providers of the gun. It was only hearsay that had the Feds flashing their badges all over town. He was peeved to find out that Stahl had the nerve to go to his home when the kids were there. He knows that was a calculated move. 

Still, the high profile of the case had made it hard for them to sell the remaining guns. Despite Piney’s vocal protests because of military bonds they had no choice but to get rid of the right wing militia. 

Clay’s eyes flicker to the door where Tig is at the bar keeping watch. Tig seems uneasy too. The door swings open and a blading skinny man walks through. The bartender nods at him and motions towards him and Clay. 

Jax sits up straighter as the man comes to their table. Tig immediately stops him. The bartender intervenes, seemingly vouching for the man. Tig eyes them skeptically. He makes the man wait as Tig comes over. 

“Cameron Hayes, Michael’s cousin. With the cause. Doesn’t come stateside much.” Tig informs them. 

Clay nods and Cam Hayes walks over. “Where’s McKeevy?” Clay asks before the man can even take a seat. 

“He's dead.” 

“Jesus.” Jax says. He wonders how come they haven’t heard anything on it. Though maybe this news is something that needs to come in person. 

“How?” Clay ponders. 

Cam Hayes eyes narrow. “The Oakland park commissioner threatened to bust open... a shipment we got coming in on Monday. Wants to triple his payoff money. Hefner. Greedy prick.” The man snarls. “Been riding roughshod over the ports for years. Michael was pissed. Went off on him for changing the deal. Must have spooked Hefner. He had his port goons jump Michael. They beat him, broke his neck. Left him for dead.”

 “Sorry. That's awful shit, man. Condolences.” Jax replies. 

“Thank you.” Cam says gratefully. 

Clay tilts his head. “Anything we can do to help with this?”

“No. No, it's personal.” Cam answers. “I'll handle Mr. Hefner.” Cam sits up straighter. He turns serious as he begins to discuss their business. “Michael spoke very highly of SAMCRO. Trusted you. Hope to be able to continue the relationship. That's why I'm here. I'll be your new contact.”

Clay grimaces. “I mean no disrespect. I'm sure everything you're saying is the truth-“

Cam nods his head understanding. “No, no. Wish we had a secret handshake or business card.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a photo. It shows Cam along with Mckeevy and other people wielding guns. Jax spots Jimmy O and Keith McGee, the Belfast president. It seems to be enough for Clay. 

Tig picks up the black bag from the floor. “That's the package there that we were delivering to McKeevy.  Two months, and a month insurance, 200 K." 

“Mind if I take a quick count?”

“I got all night, brother.”

“Thank you.” Cam says as he moves to another table. 

 “Shit,” Clay mutters. 

“You think that is why ATF came down too. Hoping to catch Hayes?” Jax wonders. 

“Could be. We’re going to have to be really careful.”

Jax fights the urge to snort. They always have to be careful. 

Cam comes back to their table with the duffle bag. “ Lovely. This will float the cause, keep SAMCRO and us in business. Glad we could work it out, Clay.”

“Me too, Cameron.” Clay exclaims as they shake hands. “How is, uh, the cause going?”

“Like any good war- slow and steady.” The Irishman tells them. 

Clay grabs the untouched shot on the table and they all do the same. “Michael McKeevy. Good soldier, good friend. To a unified Ireland.” 

They are unprepared as the glass around them explodes. 

Jax sits in the chapel as they grimly go over last night's attack. Luckily no one was killed, but Cameron Hayes had walked away with a bullet to the ass. Someone Chibs was able to remove the slug and stick the man up, but Cameron wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. There was also the fact; Cameron had been mumbling about handling Hefner and the club had agreed to do it. Their payment would be refunded if they could. 

Still with Mayans deciding to do such a violent attack only meant they had to go to war. It was going to be Bloody ’92 all over again. 

Clay is about to dismiss church after all agrees to summing all the Presidents and Vice Presidents to Charming. 

“Before we go, I need to say something.” Piney says gruffly. “If we are going into a war, we need someone better at our President’s side. Let’s face it, I’m getting old and this oxygen tank is slowing me down. I’m stepping down as VP and I’m nominating Jax to take my place.”

Jax is still in a slight stupor from Piney’s announcement. There is a smile on his face, but this is a big change. He walks into his former dorm room. His kids are tucked under the covers sleeping. With the Mayans attacking it meant all of them were in lockdown. He begins to remove his shoes, kutte, and jewelry when the bathroom door opens. Alma is highlighted by the bathroom light in his oversized SAMCRO shirt. 

“Hey.” Alma whispers. 

“Hey back,” Jax replies. He watches as Alma lingers by the door. “Everything okay?”

“You first.”

Jax steps out of his jeans and walks to his wife. He brings her into a hug. “For now. Tomorrow we’ll really know. It’s going to be busy with all the number ones and twos coming. But Piney nominated me to be Vice President.”

Alma reels back. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jax says with a dopey smile. 

Alma wraps her arms around his neck and attacks him with kisses all over his face. “I’m so happy for you Jax.”

“Thanks, babe. So you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Alma purses her lips and she tugs him into the bathroom. She points at the small stick resting on the counter. 

“I’m pregnant.”

[notjanine]

2020 in books!

the only kind of new year’s resolution i made as a naive baby last january was to try to read 40 books for the year. (i read 37 in 2019, for context.) well, with all of my commuting time eliminated and an increased need for immersive escapism, i ended up surpassing that goal three times over lmao (thanks library ebooks!)

idk how to summarize my year in books in a way that makes sense but

(f) = fiction, (nf) = nonfiction, (p) = poetry.

books that rewired my fucking brain:

braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer (nf)- GOD?!?!?! good. dr. k is right. ostensibly a book about plants, but actually a book about shut up and go outside. consumerism and capitalism are doing their damnedest to fuck you up, but you can just choose to value different things. take care of yourself by taking care of your environment. etc etc.

wasp by richard jones (nf)- lissen. when i got this book, my wasp-phobia was so severe that i had to put it away face down on a high shelf because there are wasps on the cover and i couldn’t bear to RISK even GLIMPSING them. now i am like... a wasp evangelist. (also due to the bugs 101 course on coursera it’s so good.)

wag by zazie todd (nf)- i have a dog, but i am NOT a Dog Person (i.e. i love my dog, but please keep yours away from me, thanks.) this book helped me understand my little guy better, plus it gives actionable tasks and activities to do with and for your pup! plus, y’know, learning about things you’re scared of helps to lessen that fear. i’d recommend this to anyone who has, wants, or regularly interacts with a dog.

a closed and common orbit by becky chambers (f)- is this series complete fluff? absolutely. am i fundamentally different after reading this one? maybe.

the best we could do by thi bui (nf)- this is so far outside of my personal experience but somehow still made me come to peace with my relationship with my mom?? and it’s barely even about that?? idk. this is probably objectively the best book i’ve read this year.

books that were just fun as hell:

mexican gothic by silvia moreno-garcia (f)- this book made me YELL out loud

death on the nile by agatha christie (f)- i grew up on agatha christie shows, but never actually read her before this year! she really was That Bitch. read this before the movie comes out

cosmoknights by hannah templer (f)- i read this in one sitting through the worst headache i’ve had in years. it is a goddamn DELIGHT. this book has everything: spaceships. mech suits. fighting the patriarchy. a perfect otp. fun art in bright colors with clean lines. onomatopoetic WAPs from before the song gave that hilarious context. 800 lesbians. this is an antidepressant in graphic novel form.

stiff by mary roach (nf)- ms. roach is like the 4th most represented author on my bookshelf because she 1. stays writing about shit i’m interested in and 2. manages to talk about gross and ridiculous things without resorting to sensationalism. it takes skill to write a hilarious book about corpses.

black sun by rebecca roanhorse (f)- excellent sexual tension between a horny siren pirate and a hot doomed... monk, kinda? set in the pre-columbian gulf of mexico with magic and shit.

cuisine chinoise by zao dao (? n/f)- this graphic novel about chinese food history/mythology is BEAUTIFUL.

the color of magic by terry pratchett (f)- you’d think a hardcore douglas adams stan would have gotten to this sooner, but no, i had to date a nerdy white boy to get here. it’s fun though! i’m not gonna read them all, but this one was good. bonus: contains one (1) great himbo.

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir (f)- like 500 pages of action and mystery and jokes and space necromancy. harrow the ninth gets a special mention bc it has a meme reference that took me out so hard i had to close the book, lie down, and groan for an entire minute before continuing.

other minds by peter godfrey-smith (nf)- i love octopuses. on one tma bonus ep, jonny sims says that if a creature can choose to do evil, then it’s a Person. octopuses are People. but anyway frfr this has an explanation of the evolution of consciousness that is cool af. (this one is much better than the other recent popsci octo book which i will not name out of politeness.)

the perfect predator by steffanie strathdee and thomas patterson (nf)- i read this bc my microbiology prof recommended it and it’s cool as heck! it’s got adventure, drama, mystery, Science-with-a-capital-S. i’m biased bc i’m a bit of a microbes nerd, but i had a blast with this. (but only bc we know going in that everything works out okay; if i hadn’t known that, i would have been TOO stressed!)

books that were a little less fun but still very readable:

my sister, the serial killer by oyinkan braithwaite (f)- i couldn’t find this as funny as other people bc i, too, have a beautiful sister who’s an insufferable narcissist, so it hits a little too close to home, but. it is a wild ride.

piranesi by susanna clarke (f)- idek what to say! i went into this one blind just bc it had a cool cover and title, so i guess i’d recommend that for other people too.

the sixth world series by rebecca roanhorse (f)- monster hunting! a post-apocalyptic take that doesn’t feel tired.

the shades of magic trilogy by v.e. schwab (f)- easy escapism. some ideas feel a little first draft-y, but idk, it’s also a pretty simple premise (which isn’t a bad thing). it’s a decent urban fantasy set in ~georgian?-era london. very actiony. suffers from a bit of i’m-not-like-other-girls disease, but i didn’t even notice until book two or three, so.

the only good indians by stephen graham jones (f)- starts off a little ??? (and reeks of being Written By A Man) but picks up. the pacing’s great and there’s just a super fucking cool monster.

robopocalypse by daniel h. wilson (f)- this reads like a tv miniseries so much that i can’t believe it isn’t one yet.

confessions of the fox by jordy rosenberg (f)- not my usual cup of tea, fiction-wise, but still compelling. a fresh take on the white-male-english-professor-self-insert? but not insufferable. gets weird!

spinning silver by naomi novik (f)- rumplestilstkin, but make it interesting! a great, richly-told fairy tale, but like, large scale. good to read on a cold day while you’re wrapped up in a blanket with some hot tea.

interior chinatown by charles yu (f)- compulsively readable. a couple things bugged me, but not enough to make me dislike it. a fun companion piece to how to live safely in a science fictional universe. i like this guy’s style.

cannibalism by bill schutt (nf)- COOL. mostly covers the animal kingdom (fun), spends too much time on the donner party (less fun), ends with a SPICY take on prions that i cannot get out of my head!!!

buzz, sting, bite by anne sverdrup-thygeson (nf)- BUGS! broad but not overwhelming, neither dumbed down nor overly scientific, short enough to finish in a day or two. recommend this to literally everyone.

books that made me want to read everything else in the author’s ouevre:

the time invariance of snow by e. lily yu (f)- this FUCKS but it’s too short!!!

an unkindness of ghosts by rivers solomon (f)- okay this book is SO good and so well-written and interesting and blah blah blah all the good things, but... the whole time, i was just like?? why???? why is this what you’re choosing to write about??? (i did also read the deep and blood is another word for hunger after this one, and i did like them both, especially the latter, but i think they can do better! like i think they could write a perfect book and i am gonna be *eyes emoji* until then.)

the space between worlds by micaiah johnson (f)- a fine debut novel, but i want to see her do something a little more... idk, refined? i think she overreaches here, like it’s a little... idk looper? this is how you lose the time war? there’s a better comparison, but i can’t think of it, but you get the idea. and then halfway through it shifts gears to mad max. there’s something weird about one of the central relationships, like it’s not complex enough to take as long to resolve as it does. idk idk. there are just a lot of little nitpicky things. it’s not bad! but i think she can do better and i look forward to finding out.

postcolonial love poem by natalie diaz (p)- thinky! like i tried to read this before bed, but it’s not the sort of thing to parse out while you’re falling asleep, it requires more attention than that.

books that Learned Me Somethin:

smoke gets in your eyes by caitlin doughty (nf)- i am a self-professed death obsessed weirdo, fascinated by death and mourning, but i didn’t know all that much about what happens to a body between the dying and the funeral! this book isn’t big, but it covers a lot and doughty’s writing style is engaging and honest. it’s very memorable.

queer by meg-john barker and julia scheele (nf)- i’m gonna be totally honest and say Queer Theory is above my intellectual pay grade, but this book takes you by the hand and explains the basics.

vitamania by catherine price (nf)- LMAO my fellow americans, never take a supplement. this book is great and well-researched, but normal folks don’t need to read it, just listen to season two of the dream podcast, which definitely cribbed from this.

vegetable kingdom by bryant terry (nf)- this is a fine cookbook, my favorite of his that i’ve read so far. gets a special mention bc i had a religious experience just reading one of his kohlrabi recipes. absolutely gutted that i didn’t have an opportunity to try it this year, since the pandemic put the kibosh on all family bbqs.

the best american food writing 2020 edited by j. kenji lopez-alt (nf)- this really is just a great collection.

are prisons obsolete? by angela y. davis (nf)- yes.

i moved to los angeles to work in animation by natalie nourigat (nf)- before reading this, i had basically zero knowledge of how the animation industry works. now i know like three things.

the secret lives of bats by merlin tuttle (nf)- BATS! okay this book is more about the adventures of being a bat scientist than it actually is about bats, but there are bats in there. insectivorous bats basically shit glitter, you should know this.

books from valuable perspectives:

hood feminism by mikki kendall (nf)- a breakdown of who’s getting left out of feminist spaces, why that’s happening, and why it shouldn’t be happening.

all you can ever know by nicole chung (nf)- a (transracial) adoptee’s take on adoption and learning more about her birth family. the personal storytelling of this one really stuck with me.

motherhood so white by nefertiti austin (nf)- a single-mom-by-choice’s take on the foster system/adoption process. walks you through some things i always wondered about and some things i wouldn’t even have thought about.

this place by kateri akiwenzie-damm et al (? n/f)- i, like a lot of non- native americans, only know that history in broad strokes. getting this many highly specific stories in one dense and beautiful book felt like a lucky find. and taking that perspective into the future in the context of that history is v good.

empty by susan burton (nf)- eating disorder stories are important to me bc i care about food so much. this one is so relatable- not in its specificity, but rather its generality. it’s easy to empathize with her perspective because it’s like, Oh, i don’t have that exact problem, but i struggle with different problems in a very similar way. (feels like the opposite of roxane gay’s hunger, in a way.)

obit by victoria chang (p)- this exploration of grief is... woof.

short story collections are hard to evaluate bc you’ll never read one where every single story hits but i generally enjoyed these:

a thousand beginnings and endings edited by ellen oh and elsie chapman (f)

how long til black future month? by n.k. jemisin (f)

her body and other parties by carmen maria machado (f)

books i revisited:

the broken earth trilogy by n.k. jemisin (f)- i read the series backwards this time and like... i can’t really find any faults in these books, man. they’re just the best.

everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too by jomny sun (f... but is it really?)- half of this book’s sales are from me buying it for other people bc it’s the only way i know how to say i love you. i reread it every time just to make sure it still feels right and it always does.

other honorable mentions:

white is for witching by helen oyeyemi (f)- not to pit two bad bitches against each other, but this book does what akwaeke emezi’s freshwater was trying to do. it’s a little weird, a little haunted, a little of a lot of things. read this only in the dead of winter. (and with stephen rennicks’ score for the little stranger playing in the background.)

homie by danez smith (p)- there’s a lot going on here, but this just made me crack a smile a couple times in a way that no other book of poetry has ever done.

the murder of roger ackroyd and murder in mesopotamia by agatha christie (f)- That Bitch!

blues by nikki giovanni (p)- she sure has some Things To Say

the three-body problem by cixin liu (f)- interesting concepts, but... idk something’s missing? felt weirdly soulless to me. i’m probably not gonna read the sequels. but it did make some points!

the sisters of the winter wood by rena rossner (f)- i’m a slut for shapeshifting, okay. but this is a good fairy tale, it works!

parable of the sower by octavia butler (f)- i read this in march, when the pandemic was just kicking off and boy that was not the right time. def my least favorite of hers so far, but an octavia butler i don’t love is still better than a hell of a lot of other books. no idea when or if i’ll get to a good enough headspace for the sequel.

faves:

saturnino herrán by adriana zapett tapia (nf)- i got to learn new things about my mans and see some of his paintings i’ve never even seen online! GOSH.

on food and cooking by harold mcgee (nf)- yeah yeah, i’ve already mentioned this book half a dozen times on here this year, but i don’t care. this book lives off the shelf in my home bc i reference it like every other fucking day. this book is a part of me now.

[broadstreetmisfits]

Cruel Summer - Mat Barzal

Requested?: Kinda? See A/N “94 with mathew barzal!”

Prompt:  "Is that something in your pocket, or are you that excited to see me?"

Warnings: Swearing, mentions & allusions to sex

A/N: Okay so I was already in the middle of writing this when I got this request, and it fits together so perfectly so of course, I had to combine it. It’s based off of “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift

WC: 4,188

Summary: A few months after your incredibly attractive neighbor (who also becomes your best friend) moves in next door, you’re met with an unexpected proposition that leads to a rollercoaster of a summer

At first, you hated him, but it wasn’t just you. Everyone in the neighborhood hated him since the beginning. And the hatred started way before he even moved in; it started when the construction for his new house began. The construction crew decided on the brilliant idea to build at the odd hours of the day, either when everyone was trying to relax and go to bed, or bright and early when people were sound asleep. 

The house ended up being a minimansion and it looked incredibly out of place in your middle class neighborhood. It had to have been at least two times the size of your house and actually made yours look tiny in comparison to his. 

Since it stuck out like a sore thumb, you were dying to see who was going to move in next door. On move in day, you came up with a “foolproof” plan to pretend to tend to your garden while you people watched.

When the person started to move in, you were taken aback. There had had to have been at least 20 people moving things into the house. Yeah, some of those guys could have been moving people, but still, there was more than you thought there would be. It got to the point where you couldn’t tell who was who since they all looked almost the same - stereotypical frat boys. Obviously, when you found out the group of hooligans were moving in next door you were incredibly angry, you knew they would be throwing ridiculous parties and keeping you up every night. 

But after a few more days of watching via the fence and the windows that looked out to his house, you realized that only one of the guys you had seen was actually living there. The guy was a decent height, no taller than six feet, and had a mop of dark brown hair on his head that some days would be styled, but most of them it seemed like he hadn’t even brushed it.

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

One day, you were outside by your fence, and actually picking your berries, not people watching through the gaps in the fence, when you heard the sound of a car unlocking. You didn’t want to look over the fence and see what was going on because you knew that would lead to a conversation with your new neighbor, but also you wanted to see what it was like. Unfortunately, you were also standing right by the garden gate, which for whatever reason, only came up to your hip, so the new guy could see you perfectly. 

“Hey, neighbor!” 

“Shit” You muttered just quiet enough that he didn’t hear you. “Uh hey!” You said, louder. 

“I’m Mat. I moved in a few days ago. I don’t think we’ve met” Finally, you turned to your new neighbor, who was standing in the yard next to yours. You were completely caught off guard. The signature mop of hair was there, but it was neatly slicked back and you could actually see his face. You were captivated by his chocolate brown eyes and the soft smile that played on his lips. 

“Uh no, we haven’t” You answered quickly, hoping not to make a fool of yourself “I’m um Y/N” 

“It’s nice finally meeting you. I actually have to go, but I thought I’d introduce myself before I left”

“It was nice to uh meet you too” You replied and then watched as he walked back to his car and drove away. But the thought of him didn’t disappear so easily.

Luckily for you, you were able to keep Mat in your life, as you two quickly became friends. You learned he plays for the New York Islanders and this was the first house that he bought in New York. 

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

It had been a rough day at the office and all you wanted to do was relax and unwind. When you got home, you changed into more comfortable clothes and made your way over to your best friend’s house. Without blinking an eye, you let yourself in. 

“Mat! Where are you?” You yelled into the mini-mansion, only to be met with silence “Mat?!”

“Up in my room!” His voice finally echoed throughout the house. You made your way up the stairs and into his room where he was laying in his bed. When he saw you looking absolutely miserable, he sat up “Well, you look distressed, what’s up?” 

“Rough day at work” Was all you told him

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mat asked and you nodded. He reached out his arms, signaling a cuddle “C’mere”

Letting out a sigh, you plopped down on his bed. Mat then wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him, right before the two of you leaned back against his headboard.

“So, why was your day so bad?” He asked

“Where do I even begin? I was stuck in meetings the entire day and none of them were productive in the slightest, the majority of my department didn’t bother showing up and the ones that did come in did jackshit. It was just stressful. I got close to nothing done.” You rambled as you began to randomly trace patterns on one of his arms

“And you’re a part of marketing, right?” 

“Yeah, I mostly focus on social media, but sometimes I’ll crossover to different things” 

“Well that doesn’t sound too bad,” He said, causing you to let out a stifled laugh “What?” 

“It’s not bad until you actually do it,” You said, “Most of the time, it’s the first thing a person looks at in relation to the company.” 

“Oh” was all Mat said before the room became silent.

The silence prompted you to look up and see if he was alright since he wasn’t usually this quiet. You found that he was already looking at you, obviously thinking about something.

“What’s up?” You asked, breaking the silence

“Wha- oh nothing” He answered

“Come on, I know when you’re lying. What is it?” 

Again, he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flickered down to your lips then back up to meet your eyes. You knew exactly what he wanted. Part of you wanted to shake your head no - this was your best friend after all. But ever since he moved in, ever since you two talked for the first time, you were head over heels for him. And so, you slowly nodded your head. Both of you leaned in, your lips connecting. 

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

The next day, you were in the middle of cleaning out the fridge when you heard the front door to your house open. Without even looking down the hall, you knew exactly who it was. There was only one person who knew that you kept your front door unlocked when you were home, and that was your neighbor Mat. 

“Cleaning out the fridge?” Mat asked as he entered the kitchen

“Nooo, I’m creating a secret passageway to the room next door” You answered, sarcasm dripping from your words

“Okay wow, no need to be rude about it” He scoffed and then added, “But I’m starving” 

“Help yourself,” You said “But you’re over here for something. What’s up?” 

“I’m not here for anything besides wanting to come and see my best friend,” Mat said with a cheesy smile

“Bullshit. That is the fakest smile I have ever seen. What do you want?” 

“Me? A fake smile? I would never” He said, clearly trying to change the subject 

“Oh my god Mat, just tell me what you want”

“Fine, I wanna have sex”

You froze. This was one of the last things you would have ever expected him to say to you. 

“Uh, what?” You questioned, making sure you had heard him correctly

“I wanna have sex with you” Mat repeated, but you were still taken aback by his idea.

“But why?” 

“Alright, listen” He began and then proceeded to jump up and sit on your counter

“Mat I just wiped that down” You whined

If he cared, he didn’t show it since he didn’t move and proceeded to continue with his reasoning. “I’m single. You’re pathetically single-”

“Okay, rude”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” He said “I was just thinking that after last night, maybe we could take things a little further? But not like romantically.” 

Of course he only wants me for my body. You thought but hid your disappointment from him.

“I’ll have to think about it Barzal,” You told him 

“Alright, well thanks for the free food. I’m gonna go leave and let you think about this. See you later babe” He said and then walked out of your house before you could even answer, leaving you alone and confused. 

Part of you wanted to do it. What happened yesterday was something you had been hoping to happen ever since he moved in, and you definitely wouldn’t be opposed to going further with him and maybe fall in love. But then you started thinking more realistically. Yes, if this worked out well, you and Mat would have a great friends with benefits relationship, but if it went wrong for whatever reason, you and Mat could stop talking altogether. 

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

It had been a few days since Mat gave you his proposition. The two of you hadn’t talked to each other since then, probably because he was nice enough to let you think about it without bothering you. You were thankful for that time though because somehow you actually came to a decision. Standing on your balcony, looking over at his house with your phone in your hand, you gave Mat a call.

“I have my answer,” You told him as soon as he picked up the phone.

“You do?” He asked

“I do. And I wanna do this” You spoke

“Great” Mat responded, a little more excited than he probably should have been

“But,” You began

“But?” 

“But we can’t fall in love. Love leads to relationships and relationships lead to heartbreak and-”

“Okay.” He said, cutting you off “Now I’ll be over in five if that’s okay?” 

“Perfect” 

Not even five minutes later, you heard your front door open and footsteps on your stairs. You didn’t bother to turn and see who it was as you felt the floorboards settle. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder before whispering. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Nodding, you answered “Yeah, why? Are you doubting your offer?” 

“Not at all” Mat spoke before landing a few kisses on your neck, each one giving you an electric shock

You turned around to face your best friend, who in only a moment's time was about to be someone much more. After giving him a small smirk, your lips pressed against his, starting off innocent like they were the day before, but gradually getting more heated as the two of you wandered over to your bed. Before the two of you got there, you looked down at his crotch to see a bulge. 

“Is there something in your pocket, or are you that excited to do this?” You teased

“Oh shut up and get back to kissing me” He replied, clearly flustered, before reconnecting his lips to yours and the two of you getting undressed 

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

“So I know you said that we weren’t going to catch feelings for each other, but in case it does happen, we gotta tell the other person,” Mat said as he sat down at the table, handing you a beer. He had gotten invited to Anders’ wedding, and for some reason dragged you along as his plus one. 

“Awh is someone catching feelings?” You teased and then took a swig of the drink before flashing him a smirk

“No, not at all” He defended himself “I just wanna make sure that we’re both gonna have clear communication with each other.” 

“Good, cause Tito has been looking over at me for the past like five or ten minutes and he looks desperate,” You said as you looked over at Mat’s teammate and gave him a flirty smile

“There is no way in hell that you’re going home with my best friend” Mat hissed barely loud enough for you to hear

“No rules, remember?” 

“Except for yours” He grumbled

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just go away so I can have a little fun” 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you?” 

“You’ll be later tonight or tomorrow but right now you’re not” 

Mathew let out a huff before finally getting up, leaving you alone. You looked back over at Anthony Beauvillier and you were about to wave him over, but some of the wives and girlfriends of the other players sat down at the table with you. 

“So when were you going to tell us that you were going to be here?” Megan asked

“Honestly, I didn’t know until a few days ago. Mat asked if I wanted to come, and I thought I might as well” You answered 

“Wait, Mat asked you out? I thought you were just friends” Cassie asked 

“Oh uh, we are just friends,” You said “He just didn’t have a plus one”

The girls let out a chorus of “ohs” before Cassie apologized for making the assumption.

“Don’t worry, it’s all good.”

“But I mean, I think the two of you would look really cute together,” Brittany said 

“Thanks” You smiled, before trying to find a way out “But I should go find out where he disappeared to.”

Walking around the giant reception hall, you tried to find your best friend. Of course, with both the bride and groom’s friends and family there, and not just the team, it was a little difficult. You did eventually find him talking to a few of his teammates towards the back of the room. He hadn’t spotted you yet, and so when you rested your hand on his ass, he was clearly caught off guard. 

He turned, still not knowing it was you and was about to yell, but when he saw who it was he smirked. 

“So you came crawling back” He whispered 

“I didn’t even get a chance with Tito. Your teammates’ wives and girlfriends cock blocked us” You huffed

“You know I can give you what you need without the hassle, right?” Mat asked as the two of you separated from the rest of the group

“Right now?” 

“Yeah right now, unless you’re too scared” 

“Never” You quickly replied 

Mat took your hand and led you out of the main reception room. The two of you found a bathroom all the way in the back of the building that no one would possibly go to, and as soon as Mat closed the door, your body was up against his and your lips were trailing his neck

“Holy shit, you really are wanting it” Mat managed to get out 

Pulling away, you smirked “Well with you in that suit, I just can’t help myself” 

A fire lit in his eyes “If only you knew what that dress is doing to me, and how much better you’d be if it was off” 

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

Waking up in his clothes, in his bed, or even both, had come close to a daily occurrence, and not a day would go by where you two weren’t up against each other in one form or another. The week after the wedding was no different. 

You woke up in Mat’s bed, completely naked, with the exception of your underwear. Like usual, you grabbed one of his t-shirts that were way too big for you and made your way down to the kitchen. 

But when you stood at the top of the stairs, you heard laughing coming from the kitchen, and you knew Mat wasn’t alone. You wanted to go back to bed and wait until whoever was there was gone, but your hunger got the best of you. Walking into the kitchen, you found Anthony sitting at the counter eating as Mat stood by the stove, tending to the pancakes he was cooking.

“Hey guys” You awkwardly spoke as you entered the room

“What’re you doing here, Y/N?” Tito asked

Luckily, you were quick-witted and were able to come up with a decent answer “Oh uh I wasn’t feeling too well last night and Mat let me stay with him” You smiled at Anthony but as you looked over at Mat, that smile quickly turned into a glare. 

Thankfully Tito bought the lie and he continued to eat. You made your way over to Mat, crossing your arms as you arrived. He simply kept the shit-eating smirk on his face as he rested his hand on your hip, low enough so Anthony couldn’t see it.

“You know, I can’t get over how good you look in my shirts” He whispered, a tinge of his deep morning voice still there

“Now’s not the time Mathew” You grumbled

“So some of the guys and their girlfriends are planning on going out tonight.” Tito spoke, oblivious to what was going on with you and Mat “Do you two wanna come?” 

“You know we’re not dating, right?” Mat asked 

“Yeah, and some of the guys are single.” He responded

“I would love to, but I’m actually going out with some of my friends tonight,” You spoke, giving Tito an apologetic smile “But I’m sure Mat would love to, wouldn’t you?” This time, Mat was the one with the glare and you had the smirk. 

“I guess I could use a night out” He sighed, clearly annoyed that you two weren’t going to be together for the night

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

Later that night, as you had said, you were out at a bar with some of your close friends. All of you were having a great time catching up on everyone’s lives and drinking like there was no tomorrow. However, when the door swung open, your mood changed. Mat, Tito, and a bunch of other Islanders had walked through the door and made their way to the bar. Luckily, you and your friends were in a booth tucked away in the corner, so none of the guys saw you. 

“Hey, isn’t that your neighbor?” Caroline asked and motioned to Mat

“Yeah,” You answered

“Why don’t you go say hi?” She suggested

“Nah, he’s clearly out with some friends and I’m out with mine.” You said and were silently thankful that was the end of that conversation. 

Throughout the night, you kept sneaking glances over at Mat. You couldn’t help it. Even though he was only wearing a plain white t-shirt and khaki shorts, he looked amazing. Of course, because he looked so good, you couldn’t get him out of your brain. You wanted to go over and get him alone, but you didn’t wanna leave your friends. 

A few hours later, the night was ending with your friends. As you left the bar, you took one last look at Mat, to find his arm around some blonde chick. When you saw that, and you saw how happy he was, you could feel your heart sink and the tears start to swell up in your eyes. Somehow, you made it out of the bar and into your Uber before any of the guys saw you crying like a baby.

You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way, he was your best friend after all. You had a rule against falling for him because you didn’t want it to end like this. You knew you needed to end the thing you had with Mat. You were going to have to tell him that you were falling for him and things needed to stop. 

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

It had been a few days since you went out to the bar with your friends. That was the last time you saw Mat. Ever since that night, you had done everything you could to distance yourself from him. He had both called and texted you, but you never answered. You hated ghosting him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually tell him how you were feeling. 

The space that you had put between Mat and yourself was supposed to help you and clear your mind, but instead, it only made you want him more. You missed him and missed being with him, but you knew it wouldn’t be healthy for you to crawl back to him. 

You had no idea what to do with yourself; you were a complete disaster. Instead of going back to him, you’d go out alone and party the night away then cry alone on your bathroom floor. You’d go to work the next day and then repeating the cycle. 

Occasionally you’d either take home or go home with a guy, only to kick him out or sneak out in the early morning. No matter who you slept with or how many men you slept with, none of them compared to Mat. 

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

One night, for some reason, you decided to stay home and not go out. Of course, that meant you had to deal with knowing Mat was right next door, but at this point, it was a constant thing. Like every night, you got a few texts from him, and like every other time, you ignored them.

Later that night there was a knock on your front door. Confused as to who was there and why they’d be there, you went to answer it. But as soon as you did, you regretted it. 

“So you didn’t fall off the edge of the Earth,” Your black-haired hockey player neighbor said with an amused tone. 

“What do you want?” You asked, not a hint of emotion in your voice

“I wanna know why you’ve been ignoring me for the past week and a half.” 

“I just haven’t been in a good mood. Aunt Flow came to town.” You lied

“Bullshit” He called. You hated how he could see right through your little white lies “You know you can tell me anything.” 

“It’s literally nothing,” 

“You don’t need to lie. Just tell me” 

“Maaaat” You pleaded, hoping he would stop

“Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll do whatever to help-”

“Fine! I love you!” You burst out “I love you, okay? For whatever it’s worth, I love you! Now isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard!” At this point, you didn’t care what time it was or the fact that you just blew up on your best friend. He had pushed you over the edge and all you could think about was how frustrated you were. Frustrated at Mat for getting you to this point, frustrated at the world for everything that happened the past few weeks that lead up to this, and frustrated at yourself for letting it get to this point. 

You expected Mat to yell right back at you. What he would say, you had no idea, but you felt like he was going to explode as well. Instead, he just looked at you with that stupid devilish grin that he always has when he’s amused by something. 

“Well? Are you gonna reply? Are you gonna say anything? Or are you just going to stand there with that stupidly hot smirk?” You questioned after a minute of silence

“What do you want me to say? Am I supposed to be mad?” He asked, the amused smirk still plastered on his face. You were completely caught off guard. He was supposed to be mad at you for falling in love with him.

“What?” Was all that was able to come out of your mouth

“Am I supposed to be mad at you?” Mat repeated, a slight chuckle escaping his lips “Cause I’m not” 

“What do you mean you’re not? I just told you I loved you after explicitly saying that we weren’t going to fall in love”

“You do know I never explicitly agreed, right?” He questioned 

“Wha- yes you did!” 

Mat shook his head “Nope. I only said ‘okay’. I respected your decision not to. I never said I wasn’t” 

“You’re honestly ridiculous” You sighed

“Yet you love me,” He said and rested his hands on you before whispering “And I love you too”

“Woah, Woah, Woah, what?” You questioned, backing away from Mat. At this point, your head was spinning and you didn’t know what was going on

“You heard me, I love you too,” Mat said, this time loud and clear “I had my eyes on you ever since I moved in at the beginning of the season.” 

“Yet you didn’t do anything” 

“Believe me, I tried. But you never picked up on it. This was the only way I could think of that would work” 

“Of course it was” You shook your head

Mat’s mouth fell wide open “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means we’re a couple of dense idiots” 

“But we’re dense idiots together” 

“Of course,” You confirmed, pressing your lips against his

You definitely didn’t think this was the way you and Mat were going to become a couple, but of course, you wouldn’t change that cruel summer for the world. 

[leigh-kelly]

(More Hospital!AU)

The morning of Oliver’s doctor’s appointment, Santana is a nervous wreck. She hadn’t slept much the night before, getting up every hour or so to google something that she might want to ask Dr. Morgan, and the whole thing has her so close to the edge. This is her sin. The little boy she gave birth to way too early. If something is wrong with him, she feels like it’s all on her and she just doesn’t know how to cope with that. For her part, Brittany is so good. She gets up and lets Santana stay in bed—even though she’s not sleeping—and gets breakfast for Liam before the twins are even up.

It’s just a lot for Santana to cope with and she has no idea how she’s even going to manage the cab ride to the doctor’s office, let alone the consultation. She knows for a fact that Oliver isn’t developing as quickly as Max, she knows that everything is more obvious because he’s an identical twin and all she fears in the world is that Dr. Morgan is going to tell her that her son is not okay. Special needs she can handle, special needs is totally fine, but what if there’s something terribly wrong with her sweet little Oliver and he’s not going to be okay?

“Baby?” Brittany comes into the room where Santana lays with the covers over her head. “I know the boys are still sleeping, but I think we should get them up or we’re going to be late.”

“Okay.” Santana sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll wake them up. My boobs are killing me, it’s time for them to eat.”

Brittany is good. She’s so good and Santana wishes she could ever express to her just how much she means. She leaves Santana alone because she just knows that Santana needs her time to cope with her anxiety and leaning over the bassinet, Santana gently wakes up Max and Oliver. Oliver cries a lot when he wakes up, and it always hurts Santana’s heart to hear it, but once she has the two of them latched on and she leans against the headboard, she feels like it’s going to be okay. Oliver is strong, Oliver is amazing, and she shouldn’t have to worry about him when he’s so clearly going to catch up to his brother.

Santana spends a long time kissing Liam and Max goodbye when her mother gets there. She just never wants to spend more attention on one of the boys so she’s very careful to divide her love among them. When Oliver first came home, Santana had worried that Max wasn’t getting enough attention, but she’s corrected that, she’s tried so hard to make sure that just because maybe Ollie needs a little more, she’s not neglecting the other boys that she loves so much. Brittany is the love of her life, but Liam, Max and Oliver are something else, they’re the love she never believed she could have, they’re so much of her heart, and she never wants to make any one of them feel like she doesn’t love them as much as the other.

“Are you okay?” Brittany asks Santana, once they’re in the backseat of the cab with Oliver strapped to Santana’s chest.

“I’m so scared, Britt. I don’t even know how to control myself.”

“I’m scared too. But Dr. Morgan is the best neurologist in the city, which pretty much means the best in the world. She came so highly recommended by everyone at the hospital that I can’t be worried she won’t do what’s right by us.”

“I just never want anything to happen to our son. He had surgery so young...”

“I know, but he’s thriving.” Brittany squeezes Santana’s hand. “If we didn’t have Max to compare him to, we probably wouldn’t be worried.”

“But we do.”

“I know. And today he’s going to get an MRI and we’re going to see how much his brain is developing. You’re going to feel so much better after we do that.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

They get to the office and Santana paces the floor of the waiting room. She hates that Dr. Morgan is running late, she hates that even though their appointment is right when the office opens, she’s still not there. Brittany trues to calm her down but it just doesn’t work. She’s an absolute wreck and she won’t be settled until someone tells her that her son is okay. In moments like this, she hates being a surgeon, she hates that she knows about worst case scenarios and she hates that she’s been the one to tell them to parents. She’s afraid of some kind of karmic retribution that will take it out on Oliver and she kind of wants to throw up.

“Oliver.” The receptionist calls out and Santana wants to jump out of her skin. “Dr. Morgan is ready.”

Brittany carries Oliver into the exam room and Dr. Morgan is waiting there. She’s supposed to be the best neurologist in the city, but Santana sizes her up. She can tell that there’s a scowl on her own face that Brittany tries to soften with a squeeze of her hand but she just wants the doctor to know that she better do exactly what is right by her son. She’s a doctor, she’s not a parent that is clueless and can be taken advantage of. She doesn’t know if she accomplishes that all with a glare, but she sure hopes she can.

“Dr. Lopez, Dr. Pierce. It’s so nice to meet you.” Dr. Morgan extends her hand. ���And Mr. Oliver, it’s so nice to meet you too.”

“We’re so glad you could see him.” Brittany speaks. “We know you have quite a busy schedule.”

“I know you were recommended by Holly Holiday, I’ve seen a few of her neonatology patients.”

“She did Oliver’s surgery.” Brittany tells her, while Santana remains silent. “And she says you’re the best.”

“I’m good at my job, but I don’t need the flattery. Why don’t I check Oliver out before we do an MRI?”

Dr. Morgan shines a light in Oliver’s eyes and he cries, making Santana flinch. She knows she’s made patients of her own cry with exams, but it feels different when it’s her own son. Brittany answers most of the questions about Oliver’s development, leaving out the comparisons to Max, while Santana stands over the baby and tries to make him feel better. When it comes time for the MRI, Santana holds back her tears when Dr. Morgan straps Oliver down. He keeps wailing and even with Santana and Brittany in the room, they can’t do anything to calm him. Brittany holds Santana’s hand and it’s the one thing anchoring her during the procedure which feels like it lasts hours. She knows this is just the first of many that he’ll need throughout his life and all that she can hope is that it will get easier as time goes on.

“Okay.” Dr. Morgan says when they are back in the exam room and Santana holds Oliver to her breast, comfort nursing him. “From the MRI, it looks like the brain bleed has healed really well.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” Brittany breathes a sigh of relief and Santana looks up from the baby.

“His development is slow and that’s a concern for me. He’s too young for me to diagnose him, but I want to keep an eye on him, meaning you come see me every six months. Watch him carefully, I want to know if his limbs are stiff or if you notice any flopiness. I expect that his development will continue to be slower than his brother’s, but I suggest you don’t compare the two.”

Santana knows that Dr. Morgan is looking for signs of cerebral palsy in her son but can’t diagnose him at such a young age and she feels sick to her stomach. She doesn’t want her sweet baby boy to have a hard life and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do everything in her power to make it easier. When they leave, she just feels so exhausted and as Oliver sleeps in her arms, she knows she wants to take him up to bed when they get home. She knows that she should talk to Brittany, but she also knows that her mind is racing and she just needs a little time to process.

Luckily for her, Liam and Max are napping when they get back in the house so she’s able to excuse herself from her mom and Brittany and go up to the bedroom. She lays Oliver on the bed beside her because she doesn’t want him far away and she actually manages to fall asleep like that, even if she has nightmares once she does. She knows that she tosses and turns but when she wakes up to the sound of Oliver’s cries, she lifts him into her arms and cries herself. He’s okay, he’s going to be okay, but the stress of the morning has really gotten to her and she just needs to release it.

“Hi.” Brittany opens the door. “I just wanted to come up and check on you.”

“I’m sorry I was useless at the appointment.” Santana sniffles. “It’s just hard for me to give up control to another doctor.”

“I understand that.” Brittany comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to lift Oliver’s hair and look at his scar. “He has a long road ahead of him.”

“You know, my mom used to say that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. I don’t know if I believe in God, but if there is one, I really think he’s given us a little too much.”

“You’re the strongest person I know, Santana. Even if you have really bad anxiety, I know you can handle a lot.”

“You had to watch Liam have skin grafts, we sat through his second surgery, you were there for my third. Now this perfect little boy, we have to watch him for what I know are symptoms of cerebral palsy. I’m so scared about it.”

“If he has cerebral palsy, we’re going to get him the best care there is. I’m not afraid of it.”

“You’re not?”

“He’s our son, are you going to love him any differently?”

“Of course not.”

“Then that’s what matters. Look at him, Santana, he’s perfect, you made these two beautiful things.”

“They really are something else, aren’t they?” Santana sniffles and looks down at Oliver.

“They completed our family. I know we didn’t plan for twins but I can’t imagine not having them.”

“Neither can I. No matter how tired I am or stressed about all the stupid stuff at work, I look at our boys and just feel so grateful.”

“Me too.” Brittany wraps her arms sound Santana and holds her close. “Do you want me to take him downstairs so you can keep resting?”

“No, I’m reading to see Liam and Max. I’m sure Max is hungry.”

“I gave him a bottle while you were sleeping, he’s okay. It’s nice out today though, maybe we can take a walk?”

“I’d like that a lot. I know Li has been itching to go to the park.”

“He’d be thrilled if you told him that.” Brittany laughs. “Let’s go.”

Santana hands Oliver off to Brittany, knowing she really hasn’t had the time to cuddle him that she has, and they go downstairs. Liam is coloring intently at the table and Max is sitting in his little seat, squeezing the stuffed giraffe that is attached to it. Santana kisses her Liam on the head and then she bends down to get Max, watching how he smiles at her. She loves that the twins smile now, she loves that she gets to feel their joy in her presence and she squeezes him to her chest, just wanting to feel him in her arms.

“Mommy Noodle, why was you sleepin’ in the day time? Do you have to go to work?”

“I don’t, Sir. I was just having a little rest. But now that I’m awake, I was thinking we could go to the park.”

“Yay! I love the park! I can show Ollie and Maxie all the stuff! Can they go on the slide with me?”

“They’re still too little for that, bud.” Brittany ruffles his hair. “But maybe by the time summer comes, they’ll be able to go on the swings with you.”

“Summer is in a long, long time.” He pouts. “It’s still cold.”

“It’s getting warmer and summer will be here before you know it.” Brittany promises him. “But for now, Max and Oliver will really like watching you play.”

“Mommy Noodle, will you go on the slide with me? I like it better than going alone.”

“If that makes you happy, then I’ll absolutely go on the slide with you.”

Together, Santana and Brittany get the boys ready for the park and each of them take a carrier with one of the twins. Santana has Max strapped to her chest and before they even make it to the park, he falls asleep. She wonders when they’re going to stop sleeping so much, even though she knows a lot about kids, it’s different when they’re her own, and when she looks over at Oliver, he’s sleeping too. Liam is wide awake though and he skips between them, so excited to finally be outside after what feels like the longest winter.

They get to the park and true to her word, Santana goes down the slide with Liam. Brittany, in one of her amazing moments of forethought, had thrown the double carrier in the diaper bag and Santana helps her situate the two sleeping babies in it before she goes off with Liam. It’s been so long that she’s just been able to play with him that it feels so good for both of them and she sees Brittany stand up to take pictures. Being out in the cool late winter air feels so freeing and after such a stressful day, Santana feels like she could cry in relief. Then, while she’s chasing Liam around, her phone rings in her pocket and she peeks at it to see that it’s Shelby.

“Okay, Liam, time out. It’s Dr. Shelby on the phone and I need to answer it.”

“Hurry up, Mommy Noodle, hurry up!”

“Li, give Mommy a minute. Why don’t I push you in the swing?”

“Okey!”

“Hello?” Santana answers, feeling really nervous to talk to her.

“Hi Santana, how are you?”

“Just a little out of breath, sorry, I was running around with Liam.”

“Is this not a good time? Do you want to call me back?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m here. What going on?”

“The lawyers met today, it looks like they’ve been able to reach a settlement. In the settlement, the Franks have agreed not to sue you personally and they get their money. I met with Sue this afternoon, and you’re cleared to come back to work. I know you’re supposed to be on nights this week, but—”

“Nights are fine. I had taken off today for Oliver’s appointment, but I can come back tomorrow?”

“You can come back tomorrow. I’m scheduling you to cover the emergency room like I’d originally planned.”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Thank you, Shelby.”

“Thank you for being patient while this whole thing was worked out. I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave.”

Santana hangs up the phone and she goes over to the swings where Brittany is somehow managing to push Liam, even with two babies attached to her chest. To make things easier, Santana steps in and takes over the pushing. Brittany looks at her, waiting for her to talk, and Santana takes a deep breath.

“They settled, they’re not going to sue me. I’m going back to work tomorrow night, so I guess I’ll adjust for just one night before the weekend and then I go back to days next week.”

“You lucked out on only getting one night, huh?” Brittany laughs a little.

“I lucked out in a lot of ways. My job is safe. God, Britt, I feel so much better.”

“I feel so much better for you.”

Once Liam is tired out from the park, Santana carries him home when he complains about walking. Brittany makes a pork roast for dinner and as tired as Santana is, she knows that she has to stay up so she can sleep during the day and be prepared for the night shift. She calls her mom, who is perfectly fine with coming back in such short notice, and then after they eat dinner, Santana and Brittany do baths and bedtime. Santana will still come upstairs to do the night feedings so when she does the last feeding before bed, she kisses the babies goodnight and smiles down at them. Liam falls asleep even before books and Santana can see that Brittany is fading fast too.

“I’ll stay up with you for awhile.” Brittany offers, though her eyes look exhausted.

“Don’t, you’ll be tired in the morning. I think maybe I’ll go to the 24 hour Target and buy things we don’t need to keep myself from falling asleep on the couch.”

“I’m glad you got a little nap in today, hopefully that helps.”

“I hope so, the switch is always the worst and to do it for just one night kind of sucks. Saturday is going to be hell.”

“We’ll have a low key day, you can sleep for awhile, I’ll take the boys somewhere in the morning.”

“You’re the best wife, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve just been there, I know it’s brutal.” Brittany shrugs then yawns.

“Go to bed, babe, I know you’re tired.” Santana kisses her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Once Brittany is upstairs in bed, Santana goes outside to get a cab and goes downtown to Target. Married life is such a different experience than when she was single and worked nights and she laughs at herself as she puts dish soap and paper towels in the cart. She has a few hours before she has to feed the boys so she wanders aimlessly around the store, ending up in the clothing section. She stocks up on bigger underwear for Liam and then she finds herself looking at new clothes for him. The twins have so much, people sent so many gifts when they were born, but Liam is growing so fast that she can’t help but pick out new things for him to wear. She and Brittany love Cat and Jack, so she ends up putting a bunch of t-shirts in the cart before she’s off to stock up on diapers.

It’s one o’clock in the morning when she heads home and she leaves everything by the doorway so she can go upstairs and be there when Max and Oliver wake up. She sits on the edge of the bed, murmuring to Brittany to stay sleeping, while she feeds them and hums softly to them and then she goes back downstairs to start organizing everything she bought. She feels absolutely exhausted but if she can just stay awake until five, she’ll be in decent shape for getting some sleep during the day. The time finally comes and she feeds the boys one more time before she crawls into bed next to Brittany, tucking herself into her body. She’ll only get to sleep like that for an hour or so before Brittany gets up, but it’s totally worth it even for the short time.

She sleeps through the morning, not even hearing her mom or the boys downstairs, and when she finally wakes up, it’s two o’clock and her breasts are killing her from not nursing or pumping for so long. Santana brushes her teeth and washes her face and she throws on clean scrubs before she goes downstairs to see what’s going on. Liam is watching Paw Patrol and Oliver is in her mother’s arms while Max sleeps in the bouncy seat.

“Mommy Noodle, you sleepeded for so long! I already taked my nap.”

“I was pretty tired.” Santana laughs. “But I was thinking Ollie might be hungry.”

“He is.” Maribel hands him over to Santana. “I knew you’d be up soon, so I didn’t want to feed him.”

“Thank you for that, Ma. Hello, my sweet boy.”

Santana settles in on the couch to nurse and she watches as Liam shouts along with his show. It’s kind of weird for her, knowing that she won’t be around for bedtime tonight, but she knows she has to get over it. Shelby probably worked her shifts this week and it’s different for her as a single mom with an elementary age daughter than it is for she and Brittany who have each other.

“You must be excited to go back to work, mija.”

“I really am, I’m just glad you’re have this whole thing behind me, and Shelby has started looking for a new surgeon, so it’ll lighten the stress that’s been hanging over the department.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And you’re doing okay?”

“I’m getting by, honestly.” Santana sighs. “I have my moments, but it’s just part of who I am.”

“I don’t tell you enough, but I’m so very proud of you. You’re an amazing doctor and mother.”

“Ma.”

“Take the compliment.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Santana spends time with the boys. Liam yells when she has to go to work, but she promises him that they’ll have the whole weekend together and then she’s out the door. She figures she’ll get there early enough that she’ll have enough time to pop into Brittany’s office before she has to be in the ER and she’s glad she’ll be able to see her. She goes upstairs and Brittany is just packing up, undoubtedly anxious to see Liam and the twins and Santana leans on her doorframe.

“Hey you.” Brittany grins. “I’m glad I got to see you.”

“Me too, I wasn’t sure if you’d be gone.”

“I took a few extra minutes on my rounds tonight, one of my skin grafts isn’t taking is quickly as I’d like.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just watch it. It might have to be redone, but I won’t know for a few days. How are you? Are you rested?”

“I woke up around two, so I’m pretty rested. I know covering the pit means no time to sneak in a nap in an on call room, so I’ll survive.”

“I know you won’t sleep enough when you get home, so I’ll do the night shift tomorrow night with the boys so you can take a pill.”

“Thank you.” Santana comes toward Brittany’s desk and kisses her lips. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“I’m sure we’ll be up.”

Santana goes down to the emergency room and gets started seeing possible surgical patients. Before long, she’s doing an appendectomy on a ten year old girl and after not being in surgery for the last week and a half, it feels good to snap her gloves back on. She thinks of all the overnights she used to work where she didn’t get to do a single surgery, so having one to start off the night feels good. After the Frank incident, she feels like an emergency appendectomy is exactly what she needs to get back in the game and it goes off without a hitch.

Once that’s done, the rest of the night is quiet and she finds herself counting the hours until she can go home. When she’s busy, she never feels that way, but since it’s dead, she just thinks of how nice it would feel to be sleeping beside her wife. When the night is finally over, she’s tired, more tired than she ever was when working an overnight shift before three kids, and she grabs her stuff and goes out on the curb to get a cab. She’s glad she doesn’t have the car, glad she doesn’t have to drive home in her exhausted state and she gives the driver the address and is glad to be home in fifteen minutes.

The lights are still out when she goes into the house and she’s surprised that at 6:30 none of the boys have woken up. She creeps up the stairs, trying to keep it that way, and throws on a clean pair of scrubs and takes a sleeping pill before she crawls in bed next to Brittany. Almost subconsciously, Santana thinks, Brittany pulls her close, and even though she knows very soon Brittany will be out of bed, she savors the time she has in her arms.

“Why won’t Mommy Noodle wake up?” Santana hears Liam screaming in the hall, hours later. “I want to see her now!”

“Li, she didn’t come home until just before we woke up, we have to let her sleep for a little while longer.”

“But it’s daytime and I already eated my lunch!” She listens as her gets increasingly upset, clearly at the point where he needs a nap.

“If you’ll take a nap, you can go lay with Mommy while she sleeps.” Brittany tells him and Santana smiles into her pillow, even as sleep threatens to pull her back under.

She feels Liam get into bed with her and she just pulls him close to her as she falls back to sleep. She knows she’ll have to wake up soon, but for as long as Liam is sleeping, she can remain in bed, content to dream. When she feels Liam stir again, Santana opens her eyes and just looks down at her perfect son, waking up from his nap. He’s definitely less grumpy than he was when he was yelling earlier and even though it’s late in the afternoon, she feels like she’ll have plenty of time with him until bedtime.

“Mommy Noodle, you ‘wake.”

“I am awake, Sir. Did you have a good nap?”

“I cuddled with you!” He grins. “I misseded you so much.”

“I missed you too, but we have all tonight and all tomorrow before I go back to work.”

“Look who’s up.” Brittany opens the door, holding both Max and Oliver. “Hi Mommy.”

“Hi, love. Hi, my sweet boys. Are you hungry?”

“I held off on feeding them, I thought you might be sore.”

“Thank you.” Santana smiles. “Come in bed with us, we’d snuggling.”

Brittany climbs up on the bed, passing the twins to Santana, and she pulls up her scrub shirt to start nursing them. Liam has his head against her shoulder and Brittany holds her hand and it’s just the nicest thing to be cuddled up with her whole family. Once she’s done nursing, Santana figures she should get up and brush her teeth and wash her face—though she doesn’t change out of her scrubs—and when she’s done, she takes Oliver from Brittany and they all go downstairs.

“I want hot dogs for dinner!” Liam declares and both Santana and Brittany laugh. He always wants hot dogs for dinner but they can’t comply <i>every</i> night.

“No hot dogs tonight.” Brittany tells him. “We’re going to have pork chops.”

“But that’s yucky!”

“Li, we talked about this, you have to try things.”

“But I like hot dogs!”

“Liam.” Brittany puts her foot down. “No hot dogs.”

Liam and Brittany argue a little while Santana takes the twins to do their tummy time. Oliver is getting a little better at it, crying a little less, and Santana appreciates that. She knows that he needs to build up his muscle tone and though she longs to scoop him up when he cries, she makes him stay on his stomach beside Max. She and Brittany have talked about it, and they know that the worst thing for him is to have his every whim catered to. Brittany had confessed to Santana that she’s wanted so badly to do it with Liam when he was small and healing but she’d done research that advised her against it. They’re sticking with that with the twins and even though it hurts Santana’s heart, it’s for the best.

“He’s doing better today.” Brittany lays down on her stomach beside Santana after Liam stalks off to the playroom, still mad about the hot dogs.

“Yeah, it’s just a little crying. I can handle that. I’m sorry I slept so late today, I really meant to get up but I was so wound up when I got in from work this morning that I had to take a pill.”

“Honey, you worked an overnight, you don’t have to apologize to me for sleeping.”

“I know, but it’s Saturday.”

“And we have Sunday. I’m just happy you’re back at work.”

“So am I. I know legal kind of sucks, but it’s settled, I don’t have to worry about my malpractice.”

“Good.” Brittany kisses her cheek. “I knew it would be okay.”

“I just didn’t know what to expect. It’s been such a tough few months, I kept imagining worst case scenario where I had to leave and lose the thing that keeps me sane. Or, one of the things that keeps me sane.”

“It’s okay that surgery is what keeps you sane. I think it does for me too. Cutting and fixing and being a hero make everything else fall into place.”

“I will tell you this though.” Santana cocks her head to the side. “Surgery used to be the only thing that made me happy. That’s not true anymore.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.”

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Somewhere Only We Know | Cassian Andor x Reader (one-shot)

A/N: Took a break from writing Riz-related fics until I have inspiration again. Plus, my last fic wasn’t showing in tags which raised my stress levels. Here’s a one-shot for our grumpy space captain, since he’s getting his own series. Love me some quality quiet time doing nothing together moments. This is basically me spilling ideas out.

Words: 3,206

Warning: fluffiness, slow-burn, and hints of depression? Excessive use of commas.

Summary: You’re a mechanic for the resistance who has a massive crush on a certain captain and everyone knows it but him. One restless night leads to many outings of simple stargazing with said captain.

Cassian Andor, Captain of the Rogue One squadron and veteran rebel intelligence officer. He was an intimidating man, and he wasn’t even a commander yet. His serious and, sometimes, grumpy disposition left many tensed around him. The only ones that felt comfortable enough to even joke and smile around him was his squadron members. Jyn would often tease him every time he frowned then somehow end up in an argument with K2-SO, Cassian’s loyal and sassy reprogrammed imperial droid, with Bodhi trying to mediate them.

You had finally left the mechanic workshop, taking a break from repairing helper droids to replenish yourself at the cantina. Grabbing a tray and a cup of water, you scanned the area for a free seat. Jyn spotted you and waved you down, pointing at the open seat next to Cassian with a mischievous smirk. You shook your head, opting to eat at the workshop instead. Jyn gave you a disapproving look, but later smiled as someone tapped your shoulder. You turned and saw Chirrut and Baze blocking your way.

“You can’t keep hiding from him,” Chirrut said, tapping your leg with his cane.

Baze gave you a sympathetic smile, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around, practically marching you over to the table with the rest of the Rogue One squad. Jyn grinned triumphantly as Chirrut and Baze occupied the other two seats, leaving the one next to Cassian empty. Said man sipped at his caf, oblivious to the situation until he had tilted his head back and saw you sit down next to him. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, then went back to his food.

You stood rigged in your spot, lifting a fork and stiffly ate in silence while Jyn rolled her eyes. You had a major crush on the man beside you and it seemed that everyone in his squadron knew of it except the man himself. It started on the first time you were assigned to fix K2. Cassian made sure that the droid was away from the line of fire, mostly leaving him on the ship so they could get away easily. On one of their missions, K2 had no choice but to leave the ship to aid Cassian despite the captain’s protests. While Cassian sustained a few cuts and bruises, K2’s arm was damaged while they tried to get away. All of the other mechanics were busy making repairs around the base, leaving you, the newbie, to take over.

Cassian was hesitant in leaving his droid to your care, but he didn’t have any other choice. K2-SO began to spout statistics about the success rate of your repair job as you grabbed the necessary tools, the odds being against you. With your back towards them, you puffed out your cheeks and made your resolve. You were new, but you specialized in droids, having tinkered with them when you were little. Those statistics were inaccurate if they knew little about you and were drawn from first impressions.

You had quickly got to work, examining the damage and replacing burned and severed wires, like surgery. Cassian stood back quietly, his arms crossed as he watch you frown while you worked. In record timing, you managed to repair the arm, stepping back to let him test the reflexes. The corner of Cassian’s lips turned up slightly as K2 deemed the arm good as new. He uncrossed his arms and walked over to you.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice and proximity made you hold you breath. “Given how fast and efficient you are, maybe I should just come to you for repairs.”

You flushed at the compliment. “Are you alright, miss? Your heart rate seemed to have elevated,” K2-SO said. You cleared your throat, brushing his comment off.

“I’m Cassian Andor,” the captain introduced himself, offering his hand.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n),” you said, taking his rough callused hand and shaking it.

He gave an amused smirk when you held it too long as you stared at him. You dropped his hand like it stung, missing the way his smirk faltered at your reaction. Clearing your throat again, you turned to the mess on your workbench.

“I, uh, have some more repairs to do today,” you said.

Cassian nodded. “I understand. Thank you again for helping us.”

You shrugged dismissively, turning your back towards them again. “It’s my job,” you said over your shoulder, busying yourself with organizing your tools.

As soon as you heard them leave, you let out a long breath. Cassian Andor would not want to be in a relationship during war time, and he especially would not want to be in a relationship with a newbie mechanic. Even if he got to know you and find out who you really were, there was still no chance. You decided to push your feelings for him aside and focused on more work, but it seemed to make it even more obvious to others.

When the nightmare that was lunch break had finished, you made a beeline straight to your workshop. You loved working there. Although it was quiet and many would call it isolating, it was peaceful to you. You were free to focus on whatever task you had on hand, free to sort out your thoughts alone, and free to feel comfortable about yourself.

As you finished up your repairs on a cleaning droid, there was a knock at the door. Without breaking your concentration, you told them to come in, sealing the last metal plate up. Whoever the person was, they waited patiently as you finished up your work. It was only until you’ve set the droid aside did you look up.

“Oh!” You quickly stood up. “Captain, you should have said something. Is there anything I could help you with?”

Cassian shook his head at the title. “No need to call me captain, (Y/n). I was just here to tell you that I’m leaving on another mission soon. Maybe do a once over on my ship before we leave?”

You nodded. “I can do that.” When he didn’t leave right away, you asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Well, Jyn also wanted me to come over here to check on you. She said you weren’t feeling well, but you seemed to be fine,” he said.

“Oh, why would she say that?” you asked, your voice going slightly higher, precisely knowing why she did. You cleared your throat, a nervous habit. “You didn’t have to check up on me.”

“I wanted to… I mean, in case I need you to fix something, I needed to know if you were in the right condition to do so.”

“Oh, um, thank you. I can stop by later tomorrow to check on it.” Cassian stiffly nodded, giving a small smile of gratitude before leaving the workshop.  

You leaned back in your creaky chair, watching him leave. It’s just a stupid crush, you tell yourself. You shouldn’t be making a big deal about it. If your mother was here, she would have been scolding you right now. Not only did you settle as a mechanic, you had a crush on a rebel spy. Those were not anywhere near her standards. But it’s just a crush, you repeated, you’ll get over it.

It was yet another night where you couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, adjusting the covers and the temperature of the room. It was no use. You flung the blankets off of you and grabbed the nearest sweatpants and jacket, putting them on along with your boots before heading out of the living quarters. You found yourself at the hangar, walking idly down the strip with both hands in your pockets.

Back home, you weren’t able to see this many stars at night. There was always lights from the city that made the stars dim in comparison, which caused you to sneak out a lot. Half of the time, you were found out until they eventually allowed you under the conditions of bringing two palace guards. Being the youngest child as well, you weren’t given much responsibilities in the first place, but you still had an image to uphold. They weren’t here, though. They’re somewhere in an ally colony after the city got attacked by the empire. They didn’t know you were here, in fact. After a fight that led your mother to kick you out in a fit of rage, you had set out to find the resistance.

And here you were, finally able to see the stars in all their brilliance.

“I thought I’d be the only one here,” said a familiar voice out of nowhere, making you jump. You turned around and saw Cassian leaning against a wall, watching you closely.

“Cap- I mean, Cassian. What are you doing up?” you asked him.

He tilted his head up, gesturing to the sky. “When I can’t sleep, I come out here to watch the sky. It’s really beautiful tonight.” He pushed himself off of the wall and walked towards you. “And why are you here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.”

Cassian thought for a moment, his frown deepening as he looked away from you. You took that time to scan his features, the way his stubble lined his jaw, how his dark hair was ruffled from restless nights, dark circles slightly forming under his brown eyes. Your heart seized for a moment as his eyes turned back to you.

“There’s a hill on the outskirts of the base,” he said, “It’s a good place to relax while stargazing. Would you like to see?”

You gaped like a fish, mulling over your response. You were rarely completely alone with him, since the usual times you’ve seen each other was at the cantina, the control center, and the hangar. During those times, Cassian would usually be with his squad or just K2-SO. Couple seconds or minutes running in to each other or in passing didn’t really counted as being alone. A little stargazing wouldn’t hurt.

“Lead the way.”

The two of you walked in silence as he took you to the destination. When you finally reached the hill, there were still no conversations. It wasn’t awkward at all, unlike many occasions where you felt uneasy, as if the space had to be filled with something or else their presence would be unfulfilling. As if you rather be alone than with their company. Small talk, which you avoid, was unfortunately the go-to to fill that space.

It wasn’t like that with Cassian. There was something there filling that space, and it was enough that no words needed to be said. You’d lay on the soft cool grass next to him, resting your head on your arm and just trace the patterns in the sky, watching the stars blink back. When one of you felt sleeping finally settling, you’d walk back to the living quarters together, then separate to your respective rooms. Since then, your meetings were a routine, where nothing was said, but it was peaceful and fulfilling.

Jyn had noticed a change in your mood as she’d see you walking with an almost spring to your step on your way to the cantina every morning. She even noticed how you and Cassian would exchange a smile before going about your business. K2-SO had also made a comment on Cassian’s behavior that made him seem “more pleasant to be around for others”.

One day, she invited you over to their table again. Unlike last time, you went over without a thought, sitting next to Cassian with ease. He greeted you with a smile, revealing his dimples, then turned to sip his caf. Jyn and Bodhi exchanged a questionable look, then saw how close the two of you were sitting, your elbows practically bumping each other. You supposed it was out of habit during your outings with him and how the proximity grew closer and closer.

Bodhi chose to be the one to break the silence. “I heard there was an ally ship that arrived early this morning,” he said, “there were guards and everything. Apparently, they’re in close relations with Princess Leia Organa.”

Jyn wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, possibly royalty,” she said, pretending to be impressed.

You stiffened at the mention of guards and royalty, your fork clattering to the table. Everyone at the table turned to you. Jyn was about to voice her concern when there was a change in the atmosphere of the cantina, the buzzing became hushing. Your eyes flickered over to the door, seeing two familiar guards outfitted in their casual uniform, scanning the room. You stood abruptly, ignoring the table as you rushed out through the other door.

The only place that you could think of retreating to was the hill. You broke into a run once you reached the hangar, not wanting to bump into anyone at the moment. You ignored the familiar sleek ship that sat in the hangar, ignored the other mechanics that questioned your behavior, and just ran. You collapsed on your knees once you reached the hill, rolling over onto your back, and allowed your heart to calm down.

What business did the royal guards have on a rebel base? You didn’t even think when you saw them, you just ran. It’s so like you, your older brothers and sisters would say. Running away from responsibilities, they would say. They’d continuously guilt trip you over something you had no control over and release their emotions on you. It reached to the point where you honestly wished that you had not existed if your very existence caused so many people such grief and hindrance. You were unwanted at home.

You had no natural skills in politics, or proper etiquette, or the patience to be compliant when faced with the ridiculous and the unbearable of individuals that you had to mingle with. You were the black sheep of the family, tinkering with the house droids and sneaking out to the market for metal parts. You had no place at home. Often, you wondered if it should be considered a home at all. So what exactly was considered home?

“I was hoping I would find you here,” you heard Cassian from behind you. His voice alone made you relax. He lied down next to you, resting both hands behind his heads as he watched the clouds roll by.

You didn’t reply. You felt like he knew, not everything, but that it was a long story. One that you weren’t sure you were ready to share with anyone. He didn’t press on why you rushed out or why you were here. He just laid there next to you without a word. You turned your head, your eyes tracing the outline of his face. He looked peaceful. Throughout all of those nights that you met with him, you barely looked to the of you, too enamored by the stars, too absorbed by quiet air and the gentle breeze. Seeing him like that was an even more admirable view.

His eyes left the pale blue sky and landed on your (e/c) eyes. He shifted, lying on his side so he could brush a loose strand of your hair aside. His fingers lingered on your cheek, making them comfortably warm, and yet his brown eyes were even warmer as they remained on you. It was if time stopped around the two of you.

He suddenly let out a chuckle, a smile spreading across his face, instantly making him look younger. “Hi,” he said softly, as if seeing you for the first time.

“Hi,” you said, just as gently, as he rested his palm on your cheek.

Maybe it was your first time seeing him, too. Actually seeing him. It wasn’t just a crush anymore. You were no longer nervous around him or shy. You were comfortable with him, as if it grounded you. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through while being dedicated to the resistance for so long, especially after him and his squadron survived Scarif. For him to show this hill to you, this soft side to you, like a secret that only the two of you knew, made you feel honored and special.

It took a moment before he spoke again. “I’ve been with the rebellion since I was six,” he said, “and I’ve done things, many that kept me up at night, all for the rebellion. When we risked our lives to retrieve the death star plans on Scarif… I honestly thought that it would be our last mission. I’ve taken many dangerous missions before, but that was the closest to death I have ever been and all I could do was submit to my fate and hope that the rebellion retrieved the plans, that someone was out there listening. The others… they have restless nights, too, but they seemed to be coping better than I am because they’re actually open to each other.” He sighed. “I felt like I shouldn’t say anything because I’m the captain and I needed to lead them and be strong, but…”

You grabbed his hand as he trailed off, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles. “You should go talk to them,” you said softly, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the spell casted between you two would break. “Being vulnerable isn’t being weak. It takes a lot of strength to allow your walls to fall around other people. I had to learn that on my own.”

“Yes… yes, you’re right.” He leaned in closer so your foreheads were touching. “What happened back at the cantina?”

“No one but the higher-ups know where I’m from,” you started, “I was practically disowned by my mother because I didn’t want to marry this ambassador that I’ve never met, just so our families’ political ties could grow stronger. I didn’t want any part of that and apparently it was my only purpose in life, to be married off as a means to gain political influence. Turning it down meant turning away from the family. So… I left. Didn’t hear much from them since, until now.”

Cassian didn’t speak for a while, causing your nerves to go wild. What does he think of you now? Will he treat you differently? Cassian wouldn’t be like that, would he? He was more sensible than that.

“So, you’re royalty?” he asked slowly, pulling away.

You kept a tight hold of his hand. “Was royalty,” you corrected.

“Do you know what business they have here? Are they looking for you?” There was a hint of worry in his voice as he asked, his body supported up by his right forearm.

“I don’t know,” you said a sigh, your throat constricting a little. “I don’t want to go.”

Cassian looked into yours eyes, as if searching for something, before taking his other hand and rest it next to your head, his body shielding you from the sun. He leaned down slowly, his eyes flickering down to your lips, then back at your eyes as if asking permission. You met him half way, pulling him down with you as your lips molded with his.

Cassian broke away for air, his nose brushing against yours. “Then I won’t let them take you.”

[pluto-fics]

When you need to study

Kim Seokjin

It was that time of the semester again. The big exam time.

Your head was fuming and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from your books, sprawled across your desk. It’s not like you started to study later than you should have, it’s just that, despite having spent whole days and nights studying, you still felt like you could never pass the exam.

The quiet buzzing noise of your phone atop of your desk seemed like the roar of a wild creature in comparison to the silence in your room. When you checked your notifications, a soft sigh escaped your tense body as it finally began to relax.

Jinnie 💖

[Hey, darling. I’m close to your house right now, would you mind it if I came over in a few minutes?]

A smile played on your lips when you read your boyfriend’s message. Maybe you really should stop studying for today and spent a few hours with Seokjin instead.

You

[Sounds good. Should I make dinner for us both?]

His answer arrived almost in an instant.

Jinnie 💖 

[How about I cook for you instead so you can finally relax for a while?]

This made you giggle. He knew how much you were stressing out because of your upcoming exams. He was also the one to repeatedly remind you to take breaks and eat or just relax. It was sweet to see him caring about your well-being, not like it was a special occasion, though. Seokjin always made sure you were at your absolute best, at least health-wise.

You

[I’d love that. Thanks Jinnie. I love you! 💕]

-

Jinnie 💖 

[Love you too, (Y/N). I’ll get some things at the grocery shop and be there in 20 minutes ❤]

Min Yoongi

Silence filled the air of the Genius Lab around you and your boyfriend, Yoongi.

Whilst Yoongi was clicking and typing away at his several devices he uses to produce songs, you were sat on the couch behind him, quietly working on some tasks your teacher handed out to you and your classmates in preparation for the upcoming exams. A lot of people would have felt uncomfortable with this kind of ‘date’, but for you and Yoongi it wasn’t uncommon to meet up just to seperately work on something. It was the presence of the other that was enough for the both of you to feel less lonely while shutting yourselves away from the world to focus completely on the one thing you wanted to get done.

Surprisingly, Yoongi was the one who broke the silence as he let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair before spinning around with it to face you. “Aren’t you hungry? You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N)” he said, now getting up from his chair. You just hummed in response, finishing the sentence you were writing down before looking up at him and nodding. “I really should eat, huh?” you asked, a smile froming on yours and Yoongi’s lips in unison. He nodded shortly then asked “The usual?” to which you smiled even more. “Yep” you said and patted the free space next to you on the couch, Yoongi immediately scooting closer with his phone in hand and falling down beside you as he called the delivery service and placed your orders.

“Are you done with the track yet?” you then asked after he finished the call to which he shook his head a little. “Not yet, but it’s almost how I want it to turn out” he says, his arm naturally finding it’s place around your shoulders as you automatically lean into him and close your eyes. “Can’t wait to listen to it” you say honestly and, for the first time today, felt the tension leave your body and instead felt the feeling of relaxation taking over you, finally able to focus on something else than your exams. That other something being: spending time with Yoongi.

Jung Hoseok

Thud!

Your forehead met the top of your desk for what felt like the hundredth time today. After having pulled an all-nighter last night to memorize as much of the important notes you took during class as you could, you only took a 45 minutes nap this morning before getting up to run some errands during the day. And here you were, back at your desk to study. Or at least attempt to, but failing miserably due to how sleep-deprived you felt.

“Ugh, I can’t concentrate like this...” you mumbled to yourself and leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds before you decided to check your phone for messages. 

Thus, you were met with a bunch of notifications, messages from friends and so on. However, one contact name sent a smile to your face and a certain warmth to your heart as you tapped on the messages he had sent.

Hobi ❤

[Good morning, my angel ❤ Did you sleep well?]

[Seems like you’re busy again today... Remember to take breaks and relax a bit, alright~?]

[Hey, how about you take a break tonight and come over for a while? I miss you, baby ❤]

You felt a sting in your heart, feeling as though you were the worst for not having found the time to check your messages for a whole day. So you immediately typed your reply, apologizing to Hoseok for not having answered his texts and telling him about how tired you were. His response followed quick, almost as if he had been expecting your reply.

Hobi ❤

[It’s fine, don’t worry about it. How about I come and pick you up right now and we just have a nice, calm movie night together? Or a nap date, I don’t care as long as I get to see you, baby]

Giggling a little, you replied with an ‘alright’ and honestly began to feel excited to see your boyfriend again as well.

Kim Namjoon

“Argh!”

You were frustrated. Stressed out. Completely devastated. 

Almost a whole hour had passed since you first attempted at solving one of your practice algebra exercises and you still didn’t get any closer to the solution of it. Dropping your pencil and massaging your temples, you closed your eyes and tried to clear your mind of the countless numbers and mathematical formulas.

That was, until Namjoon came into the living room, carrying two cups of hot beverages towards the coffee table you sat in front of. “What’s wrong Babe?” he asked, a sweet smile beaming your way. You grumbled quietly in response. “Still that stupid exercise, huh?” he then guessed in a mumbled voice.

Taking a seat next to you, he then scanned the task given in the exercise and hummed quietly while seemingly trying to come up with a solution as well. “That really is a hard one” he then sighed, your eyebrows furrowing. “Of course it is, I wouldn’t have been stuck with it for almost a full hour if it wasn’t” you almost snapped. Namjoon, however, stayed completely calm, knowing that it was just the stress that was building up inside of you which made you act up like this.

Thus, he simply asked “Have you tried this yet?” and came up with a, indeed, very logical way to solve the problem. Your eyes widened while he explained what he was thinking, your mind racing and your head nodding on it’s own, agreeing with Namjoon’s suggestions. “Oh my god, you’re a genius! Of course, I should have just done that instead of taking the square root.”

Namjoon just chuckled and gently stroked your back while you quickly scribbled down your calculations and result. “Maybe you should take a break, (Y/N). You’ve been studying for hours, of course it’ll get hard to concentrate at some point” he speaks in a gentle voice “Why don’t we order some food and watch a movie together, hm?”

And how could you disagree with the man who just solved that devilish mathematical problem in less than 3 minutes?

Park Jimin

It was completely silent in your room.

You were sat on your bed, well, more like inbetween Jimin’s legs while he hugged you close and rested his chin on your shoulder, quietly watching you write down a bunch of important text passages from one of the books you had had to read for your english classes.

“And... he pulled her in... for... a kiss” you suddenly heard Jimin mumble the english phrase from the book before you felt him pressing a quick kiss against your cheek and chuckling quietly. You immediately giggled, turning your head to smile at him.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I bet it’s boring to watch me study but I really need to prepare for next week” you spoke. He shook his head slightly and smiled. “It’s fine. You look cute when you’re concentrating so hard” he stated with a grin.

You could feel the blush rushing to your cheeks as you rolled your eyes playfully and leaned back against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hmm, I wish I could still concentrate but my lovely boyfriend keeps distracting me every few minutes” you then said with a teasing smirk and felt Jimin stroking your sides lovingly. He placed another kiss on your cheek and said “Sorry Jagi, I just really wanted to see you today. I didn’t mean to keep you from studying, though.”

“It’s alright, I missed you too. I just wish we could do something fun instead of... well... this” you replied, glaring at your books and notepad as you finished your statement. To this, Jimin giggled before suggesting to keep studying for an hour or so and then going out for dinner together.

“Sounds perfect, thank you Jiminie” you smiled happily and pecked his lips before continuing your note taking from before as Jimin smiled because of the nickname you gave him and buried his face in the nape of your neck while waiting for the final hour of studying to pass.

Kim Taehyung

“I’m really sorry, Tae, but I really need to study tonight” you said to your boyfriend who you were talking to on the phone.

“(Y/N)~! You can’t leave me hanging like this, we haven’t met in days” was his reply. You sighed and dropped the pen you had used to scribble notes into your notebook with. “Tae... I miss you so much, I really do, but I can’t just go out now when there’s so much that I still need to memorize and revise...” you explained to him, a sigh following your words.

Taehyung went quiet for a few seconds before he then said “Fine.”

“I’m so sor-”

-

“If you can’t come out, I’ll just come to you then. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

And with that, the call ended. You blinked a couple of times before sighing again. You should have known that it’d end like this, but who were you to complain? After all, you didn’t lie when you told Taehyung how much you missed him. You craved his hugs so badly right now since his embrace always helped you to relax. And god, were you tense and exhausted right now.

Your doorbell rang half an hour later, just like Taehyung had promised, and as soon as he entered your home, your arms moved on their own to hug him tightly. It startled him at first, but he quickly returned the hug with a happy giggle. “Aw, I missed you too, Jagiya~” he teased and kissed the top of your head.

Jeon Jungkook

You puffed out a breath after finally finishing the task you had started on 40 minutes ago. Your eyes now wandered from your notebook to the back of your boyfriend’s head, as he busied himself with a computer game to not disturb you while you were studying. A smile grew on your lips as you heard him making fun of Taehyung, who apparently played the game with him online, for almost getting killed by a beginner.

Quietly getting up from his bed, you moved closer to Jungkook and waited for the right time to gently place your hands on his shoulders, not wanting to shock him and possibly making him do something stupid in-game by accident.

But once your hands met his shoulders, Jungkook flinched a bit in surprise before chuckling. “Ah~, (Y/N), why do you sneak up to me like that?” he asked amused and glanced back at you with a smile before focusing back on the screen in front of him as you smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to surprise you a little” you said honestly and now watched what he was doing in the game, as well. “Taehyung is telling me to say hi to you” Jungkook then said, erupting a giggle from you. You leaned in to Jungkook’s microphone on his headset and said “Hi Tae” before pecking Jungkook’s head.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jungkook then asked you to which you simply shook your head. “No, I like watching you play. I need to take a break from studying anyway” you replied honestly with a smile and gently pulled back his chair a bit, Jungkook immediately realizing what you’re about to do and gently pulling you down to sit on his lap before he continued to play the game with a happy grin on his face.

“I love you, babe” he then said, only to get teased for it by Taehyung afterwards.

[eerythingisshaka]

Signs of Rain

[Y’lan Noel x Reader]

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings:  Just fluffer!

A/N:  This is my first non-Black Panther character/actor related fic (that I have shared anyway)  But it is just as relevant as the others.  This one goes out to @afraiddreamingandloving [my sister from another mister, my security detail, my alarm clock, my DJ, my tea and crumpets (sorry)] for introducing me to Luke James’ ‘Signs of Rain’ a while back.  It has been rainy so much where I am that I have had the song on repeat almost constantly and a lil fic inspo came from it so there!

Walking up to his car, you feel nerves begin to dance within you.  You hadn’t seen him in such a long time, you wondered if he would even recognize you still.  He is sitting on the roof of his car, and old school Cadillac he has put his soul into refurbishing.  He always had a thing for tinkering, couldn’t keep his hands still for a minute before he was taking things apart and most of the time unsuccessfully reassembling them; but he was good once he got into a trade.  Working with machinery did wonders for his frame, as you studied his back muscles through his shirt.  A wide back was something of a sixth sense for you to notice and he was speaking your language.

“Hey,”  you say in a pleasant tone once you make it to him.

He turns to surprised by your voice before his expressions softens at the sight of you.  “Hey, girl.  How you doin?” His smile widens, his complexion accents the perfect assembly of teeth, shining like an “OPEN” sign.  

He gets down from the car to open his arms to you, and you reciprocate, bringing him in close to you.  His body is warm and welcoming on the cooler than normal summer evening as he held you tightly.  His beard tickled the side of your face as your hands rest on his back, solid.  It took everything in you not to claw at it, but you gave him a good friendly rub instead.  His scent gave you a sense that he loved the Lord but would certainly make you cry, which you got plenty of back in y’alls day.

Breaking from the hug, you answer his question.  “I’m good, Y’lan.  You look...great!  How you been?”

He gives a cough like laugh, “Aw, see the man’s supposed to compliment first, but cat caught my tongue when I seen you.  Thanks though.  You ain’t changed a bit...but for the better.”

You feel a blush coming up to your cheeks as he charmed the stress right off of you.  Y’lan gave off real casanova vibes, but he really was a dork at heart.  You remember when you first met him, he couldn’t look straight at you the whole time you and your friends were around him and his.  You thought he hated your guts, but it just turned out he was so nervous to talk to you, he turned incredibly shy.  You worked that out of him eventually.

“Oh, stop.  I ain’t had no time to get my makeup and hair straight before you called me.  I really am a mess.”  You say as Y’lan motions for you to pop a squat on the hood of his car next to him.

“Tsk, you still worried about looking on point 24/7, huh?  You know I never been one to ask you to look a certain way because-”

“-because I always looked like a million dollars dropped in your lap, I know.  I remember.”  You say with a slight eye roll.  Y’lan was your biggest fan when you were dating.  He made sure you never felt inadequate, showering you with compliments, gifts, PDA, and more.  It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, but you always felt like you needed to keep up or the compliments would stop.

Y’lan gave a quick chuckle at your sarcastic reiteration of his words as he looked off into the setting sun.  The rays cast over his skin, giving his arms and profile gold edges against his deep melanin tone.  “I say what I mean, and I mean it, (Y/N).”

You rub your legs to stay warm.  “So what are you doing in town, then?”  You ask to move the conversation.

Y’lan shrugs, “I had some time off to come through,  Wanted to clear my head, time on the road does that pretty good for me.”

You wondered if he had known you broke up with your former flame before deciding to ‘come through’.  You turn to him curiously.  “But why did you call me?  We hadn’t seen each other in almost two years, man.”

Y’lan scratched his beard, causing you to catch sight of his knuckles; another weakness of yours.  His hands were strong and rough from his trade work and they knew their way around you at one time.  “I couldn’t come by without seeing you.”

“Why, though?”  you press him.

Y’lan sighs.  “You really finna grill me right now?  Instead of enjoying this beautiful evening?”

“Y’lan, you left me, remember?  You couldn’t stand to be around me anymore.  You felt like I was bringing you down and holding you back from whatever the hell, I still don’t know!  And then just out of the blue, you call me up and say you’re in town and to meet at our spot -- what if I have a man?  This would be inappropriate!”

Y’lan licks his lips staring at the ground, “Do you?”

“That’s known of your business --”

He cuts you off, “Why can’t you be straight with me?  That was one problem, if you want me to be honest.  You always wanted to beat me to the punch, when I never meant a bad word to you.”

You cross your arms, “You never asked me why though!  You just brush it under the rug and tell me to quit playing.  Did you ever think about why I did that?”

Y’lan looks at you, poker face. “Of course I did.  But I guess I wasn’t asking the way you wanted me to ask.  Life ain’t a movie, (Y/N).  Shit ain’t scripted and-and beautifully monologued with a orchestra.  Sometimes you just gotta do things yourself and quit expecting others to pull it out of you like a magic trick.”

You sucked your teeth as it pained you to admit.  “You made me feel like magic.  You gave me Disney Prince and happily ever after every damn day we were together, ok?”

Y’lan rubs his temples.  “Then what is it?  What made you...despise me in the end?”

You do a double take to him when he says this.  As quick as you were about to snap him up, you melted at his response.  You never despised him, you couldn’t.  He treated you like a goddess, like the last good woman on earth was all his, he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.  He held his hands together looking off into the distance as he waited for your your response tensely.  The sun had set by now, letting the stars illuminate your surroundings.  The parts of his skin that once reflected gold were now replaced with a bluish hue.

You took a deep breath and spoke softly.  “I never despised you, Y’lan.  I hate that you ever thought that of me.  I could never hate you.”

He holds his hands out before clapping them together, “So what?  And?”

You rub your hands together nervously.  “You were too good.  I didn’t feel worthy to be with you.”  Y’lan turned his gaze to you.   You wanted to caress his wide face, but you had to keep talking.  “I guess I felt like God was playing a trick on me or something?  Like, if He gave me something this good in my life, then shit must be ready to hit the fan any minute.  I was used to that pattern.  But, shit never happened.  It was always good with us, I just doubted my worth, our chemistry, and...it cost a lot.”

Y’lan nodded slowly, digesting your words.  “Wow.  So, like in the movies, when a character gets their fortune told that they gonna die, and they try everything to avoid it but end up doing something that causes it anyway?”

You look off confusedly, “Uhh, yeah I guess so.  Something like that.”  You both giggle at the morbid comparison.  You felt like a weight was taken from around your shoulders.  You finally got all of your feelings out to Y’lan after all this time.  You were grateful you picked up his call tonight.  

Y’lan leaned on his widened knees anxiously, “Soooo, what do we do now?”

You shrug looking up at the sky, “Enjoy the sights a little more maybe?”

“I smells like it’s gonna rain, though.”  Y’lan says sniffing the air.

“Tsk, the weathermen ain’t never completely on point.  That’s probably for a storm further south of us.”

Y’lan bares those pearly whites again.  “Mhm, you know best.”

You push him lightly, “And don’t forget it, Jack!”

You and Y’lan lay back on his car to point out constellations and make up ones on your own.  You could watch them all day, just lying next to him.  It really felt like old times between the two of you as you all point to the sky, hands occasionally brushing against each other, sending shockwaves through your body.  You didn’t know how to approach a conversation of romance but you were fine with just laying together as friends.  

A clap of thunder shakes you both as it snaps you out of your little world.

“Whoa, that sounded close.” Y’lan said sitting up and checking the sky.

“Yeah.  Maybe just five more minutes and we can dip?”

Just as you offered that up, the clouds open; unleashing buckets on top of both of.

“Oh, shit!”  Y’lan exclaimed, jumping off the car.

“Fuck fuck FUCK!”  You jump off to headed to the passenger side of his car.

Y’lan gets his door open and hops in.  You try the door, still locked.  “Y’lan!  Come on!  Hurry up!”  

You see a little through the window as he reaches for the lock; nothing but teeth.

You slide in, slamming the door shut.  “Y’lan!  What the fuck was that about!  I’m soaked as hell now!”  You pull his visor down to your hair wrecked and what little makeup you put on washing away.

Y’lan leans back, his hand resting on the back of your seat.  “I thought you didn’t put no makeup on for me?”

You freeze in your lie.  “Uhhhh…”

“See?  You need to be straight with me!  It’s all good though.”

You scoff at him.  “Shiiiit, be straight with me:  you left me out there longer on purpose.”

Y’lan sucks his teeth, “Man, see -”

“Don’t blame this old ass car!  I saw your grin, you liked seeing me struggle!”  you feigned hurt as you squeezed your shirt and wiped your face.  

“My bad, (Y/N).  I did get too carried away.  You want my shirt?”  

You think this over a minute as the fabric of your clung to you like an icy leech, “Uh, well…”

He looked embarrassed before looking away, clutching the steering wheel.  “I mean, just until you get home.  Unless your dude would have issue-”

“I don’t have a man, Y’lan.”  You confess looking through the window away from him.

There’s a moment of silence, soundtracked by the pitter patter of the fat droplets crashing into the windshield.  You remain still, trying to control your breathing as you feel like you should say something more significant, like you want him back.  But he had a life away from you, no way he could go back to the shit he had with you.  Y’all just hashed out your past differences ten minutes ago!

Y’lan continues, “Well uh, just let me know what you need and when you ready to leave.  I can take you back.  I know the rain makes you nervous.”

You shake your head looking at him, “Not as much anymore.  Your little trick kind of worked.”

Y’lan makes an impressed expression, “For real?”

“Mhm.  The lightning is like a part of Mother Nature, right?  So when I see it, it’s like her stretch marks just coming across.”

Y’lan nodded, looking down at your legs for a split second, “Some of the most beautiful paths are made in nature…”  A bolt of lightning flashes above you all, illuminating the car as you look in Y’lan’s eyes.  You’ve seen that stare before, a warning sign.

“Mhm...When it thunders-”  Almost like on cue, a crash of thunder makes your body jump.

Y’lan rests a hand on your arm with concern, “You ok?”

You nod, “The thunder is just the crash of our-”

“-bodies, intertwined….Yeah, maybe that could use an update.”  Y’lan smiled weakly as he rests his hands on his widened lap.  Any time he manspreads was acceptable to you; showed confidence, authority, and that he had plenty to hang loose.

You felt waves beginning to flow beneath you as your mind wandered to when his lap was your favorite seat in the house.  You felt yourself getting colder though and couldn’t stand your shirt much longer.  

“Ok, take off your shirt.  I need to get these wet clothes off.”  

Y’lan looked at you a moment, taken aback by your request but obliged, taking his shirt off.  Your shirt being wet, was more of a struggle as you it kept rolling and tugging at your skin instead of sliding off.

You could tell your struggling was taking a while as Y’lan’s hand worked the neck from off your head slowly but surely until you popped out.  Y’lan’s face was closer to yours than you expected.  His wide shoulders bare, made you want to kiss them.  Your shirt was still tangled on your arms between you as Y’lan held them.  His gaze stayed locked on your face as his forehead crinkled up with anticipation.   The yearning began to grow as you waited for a cue, a sign that this wasn’t a dream, a split in the time/space continuum  making time slow down a second.   You couldn’t hold back, you wouldn’t if in this very moment you were given the opportunity to let your emotions take over for what you truly wanted.  

Soon as he batted his lashes down to look at your mouth you dove into him.  Grabbing his face, clutching his beard, you meld your mouth into his giving him all the information he needed.  Your tongues danced effortlessly as his grip on your arms got stronger.  You hand grazed along his arm, feeling the scar from his Kappa days that he boasted about way too often on how it made him a man.  You always corrected him and said you did instead.  Taking a breath, your mouths smack apart, as you nibble on his bottom lip.

“(Y/N), I don’t wanna be broken up no more.”  Y’lan said hoarsely as he tries to pull you to him.

You pull away, “I don’t want to be either.”  You take your shirt off completely, freeing you from your bind as you hug his neck, running your hands down his taut abdomen, decorated with signs of his manliness you adored:  tufts of hair, muscles contracting under your touch.  You pull from him to make your way to the back seat of the car.  

Once seated, you look to Y’lan.  “You always knew how to make me feel beautiful, and your touch hasn’t left me yet.  No one could do it like you.”  You say as you work to undo your bra, no longer were you cold from the outside weather. A flash of light illuminate the car again, allowing you to capture Y’lan’s expression more clearly as his mouth sits slightly agape, in awe, lost in your beauty.  

“It’s easy to find beauty in you, no doubt.  That’s why I need you to stay mine, so nobody can claim it for theirs.”  Y’lan’s tone was weighed down with passion as his baritone shook your core for what was to come as he crawled to join you in the back.  

The moisture that once left you chilly now fogged up the windows as you both enjoyed each other once more.  His touch stoked your fire as you rediscovered one another’s pleasures.  The spatters of rain were drowned out by the smacks of your kisses to one another, moaning to each other sweet nothings of bliss and eroticism.  Thunder, overran by the chorus of skin slapping against one another over and over as he sent waves of pleasure over your body .  You couldn’t believe you let this feeling go a while back, but you’d be damned if you made the same mistake twice.

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

The Coffee Prince

Commencement Day

Wakanda Got Y’all

If I Could Do It All Again

#SundaySweat

Song of Stevens

RagTag

@chaneajoyyy (i told you I’d do it!) @allhailnjadaka @afraiddreamingandloving @forbeautyandlife 

I never know how to tag new fresh fics but read and pass it on!

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down, Part 21

Title: Come Back Down, Part 21

Warning/Rating: NC-17; For graphic smut, hand job (male receiving), cussing, description of mental illness.

Word Count: 4,879

Summary: Recovery is not easy for Jensen. It involves sitting still and ‘resting’ which pretty much adds up to anxiety and feelings of failure. Depression weighs heavily on him as he contemplates the past month.

A/N: Thank you, @tas898, for reading through this and reassuring me that it wasn’t complete crap! Also for pushing me to post the damn thing. I super appreciate your support, Twinsie!

Hollygopossum’s Master List ~ If you’d like to read more of my work, click this link 

Come Back Down Master List ~ Just incase you’d like to catch up, click this link here!

Cbd21

I’d been home for about 2 weeks now and had barely even left this room. Despite being drugged up to the gills for most of it, I was starting to lose patience with everyone. Mom had, of course, been insufferable and over attentive which was both annoying and guilt inducing. I knew there were preparations for her favorite holiday to be done but she was too busy checking on me every thirty minutes. Which, was an improvement because up until a couple of days ago, it had been every five.

It was a crazy concept to me, when I thought about it, but Christmas was only less than a week away. The two weeks I’d spent in hospital had seemed to drag on and on, but it turned out that hospital time goes a lot slower than real time.

The time I spent hospitalized was anxiety inducing, especially with my parents and their superpower of smothering the fuck out of me. My family had come to an agreement of a different schedule when I finally lost it enough to need more iv Ativan.

They were only allowed to come in one person at a time. My parents traded of the morning and afternoon shift. Josh, Mackenzie and Jared had each come to visit and take a ‘shift’ that I found unnecessary since I had a very attentive nurse. She came quickly when I had to break down and push the button but she hadn’t tried to make small talk. She was there to get down to business.

Then there was Y/N. She mainly took the night shift, after my parents and I had put our foot down that she needed a shower and at least 5 hours of sleep that she wouldn’t get if she stayed glued to my side 24/7. Selfishly I wanted her to stay with me and scare off my parents with her haunted eyes. But, she truthfully hadn’t recovered from me scaring the ever loving fuck out of her and she needed sleep and food.

So now, even though I was feeling pouty and ready to hunchback my healing ass out of this room and to the nearest bar, I stifled it. Earlier in the week, I’d half heartedly tried to convince her to go home to Wyoming. I told her she didn’t have to stay to take care of me when she had so many things to do at home. The argument was pointless, like arguing with an especially grumpy mule. I tried to let the guilt bog me down. I tried to convince myself that I was not just uselessly just putting her life on hold, and many of the cast and crew were ‘home on break’ until we had a full cast to work with.

So much guilt. Forever with the guilt.  

Unfortunately for me, she was also extremely perceptive. She always had been, and she knew with just one look that I wasn’t handling the bed surfing part of my recovery well. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that the appendectomy had scared the fuck out of me too. But, it seemed wrong to voice that when everyone else had been terrified too. I was damn relieved that she hadn’t listened when I told her that she should go home.

She knew from experience how much of a pain in the ass I could be when I wasn’t feeling well. And, like I’d said before, we’d been there for each other through a large variety of situations. Like, the time I’d gotten mono from making out with Anna McDowell the summer before senior year.

Y/N had been the only person home because she was visiting over her break. Dad was off filming a part in some sitcom that filmed in Vancouver. After I had assured Mom that Y/N and I could behave and would be fine alone, she had reluctantly gone with him.

My throat had been brutally sore and I’d felt weighed down like I could sleep for days at a time. I’ll just say that mono had made the bad cold I’d had back in Cheyenne look like the sniffles. She made sure I drank plenty of fluids and took my medication. She would even bring me popsicles if I didn’t bitch too much. I know I definitely tested Y/N’s patience that first week of summer. It was one of the many times that solidified the position she held in my life as my favorite person.

Now, things were a little different. We weren’t just two teenagers trying to get by anymore. She never gave me any inclination that she ever planned to run like hell. I’d tried to get used to the very real possibility that dealing with all of this was just too much for me to ask. How could such a friend stay in my life for so long? Especially when they were picking up pictures of her and putting them in the gossip magazines?

My life was already spilling over into hers and I hadn’t made anything official. I’d gotten comfortable with what we had, but now I had to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t want the kind of life that was constantly being observed underneath a microscope. Not that I could completely begrudge Danneel for going off the deep end, but I knew I was going to get some backlash for that. That meant that Y/N might get backlash, too. Some of my fans had tagged her as the ‘other woman’ years ago before I’d wizened up.

My sad effort to keep these worries and some others under wraps and my problem alone had failed. She’d tried to cheer me up by offering me my favorite foods or letting me watch whatever I wanted, but the truth was that I was going fucking stir crazy. I didn’t want to sit still so that my abdominal internal sutures could heal properly like the outside sutures were headed to a lot quicker than I had thought. To be honest, it was getting a little itchy which just added to my discontent.

To be fair, I recognized that it was my own damn fault that I’d landed in this situation. If I hadn’t been such a hard headed dipshit, I’d be back on set by now.

On top of that, I couldn’t help but think about Danneel and the fake pregnancy. I still hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted. It still stung more than I was prepared for, even though we weren’t together anymore. Our divorce had caused her to suffer a psychological break, or so her brother had informed me in a very angry, violent conversation over the phone right after I’d been released to go home.

I’d spoken to Danneel’s mother yesterday and she’d informed me that Danneel was receiving treatment closer to her home town in Louisiana in a much nicer, if a little bit professional tone. The doctors there thought the break was due to the imbalance of hormones in her system caused by the fertility treatments she had been having. Oh, and stress. For some reason, Danneel’s mother took pity on me. She mentioned that even though stress didn’t help the situation, it had played a very small part in comparison to the fertility treatments and her unsuccessful attempts at conceiving a baby.

I still couldn’t quite let myself off of the hook, even having been pardoned by her mother. As soon as I was healed enough to drive, I planned on making time to visit with Mrs. Graul and maybe even Danneel if she was ready to have visitors. I knew all too well that the divorce was solid this time, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being responsible for pushing Danneel closer to the deep end. She might have meant to harm me, but I would’ve never wished her any real pain.

Y/N was still furious with Danneel who had confessed to running her off the road and into the ravine. A dark, unpopulated ravine that she’d been at the bottom of for nearly a week. Add on top of that the vandalism of her barn, and Y/N had every reason to press every charge possible, but she’d dropped them when she found out that Danneel wasn’t mentally well. She’d told me right before bed the night before that she didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. Plus, it was kind of hard to point fingers at someone who’d had such a hard time adjusting that they had a meltdown.

Once the media got a hold of the story, some negative Tweets and articles had already been released. Some of the Supernatural fandom were not very happy with me. They blamed me for Danneel’s mental break, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. The suits at the CW said not to worry, that the negative press would settle soon. They’d even tacked on that my drama had actually benefited the show being renewed. Bad attention, is still attention. Ugh! I felt used, but at least the crew would still have a job the longer they stayed on tv.

I sighed, feeling the tension building back up in my chest. It had only been momentarily alleviated by Y/N’s earlier animated conversation about how beautiful our hometown was. As she’d leaned into my shoulder, and nowhere else because I was a fucking china doll, she’d reminisced in a way that didn’t completely depress her. It was new, this lighter side of her talking about childhood hang outs and memories of us as high schoolers.

No matter how many times she returned to Dallas, and even though my parents had moved to a new house a few years before, the first couple of days always hit her like a sledgehammer. Especially if she tries to talk about her family. Now though, she seemed relaxed and happy to be here. She’d come back upstairs a couple of times ready to discuss a conversation that she’d had with my parents. There were little tidbits of information that she’d never known about her mom until my Mom had shared with her.

Maybe I’d be able to summon the inner strength to ask her what had changed.

She had disappeared about an hour ago and the book I was trying to read wasn’t holding my attention for longer than 5 minute increments.

Ever since I’d arrived home I’d been battling the nervous, possibly manic energy that was buzzing beneath my skin the longer I was forced to sit still. There were so many things that needed to be done for the show and I’d had to fight with both my Mom and Y/N so that I could leave to do voice work next week. They’d eventually given in when I told them that it was going to be done locally and for short amounts at a time. Even being able to do voice work in the very near future didn’t really quell it.

The crew had made changes as soon as they knew my recovery would be extended. They had left me out of several scenes and used my stunt guy to fill in where they couldn’t. I hated the strain this put on my friends.

Singer had tried to comfort me with the fact that it was only a couple of episodes and then they would break for Christmas. I wasn’t comforted. I hated anything that would possibly take away from the shows full potential and the family that was there.

You’d think the nervous energy would be completely cancelled out by the depressive episode of gargantuan proportions. It was obvious with my unwillingness to get out of bed or eat or to bathe myself with anything more complicated than a baby wipe down. I could actually feel myself sinking deeper and deeper, even with taking my antidepressant regularly. I could recognize it but I couldn’t do anything about it without feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

I had been at the end of my rope a few nights ago and finally caved. I told Y/N a shortened version of what was going on with me, omitting my worries about her because I didn’t want to give her more things to worry about. She had listened patiently but she hadn’t tried to soothe me with putting her hands on my face or giving me a look of pity.

She chose a scientific explanation that put me at ease faster than a generic, ‘I’m sorry, baby.’ She’d simply explained that sometimes anesthesia and the sedatives would mix up the normal balance of brain chemicals. That I should just try to take it easy until they balanced themselves out, but I didn’t know just how much more I could take.

Bored by the book I was trying to read and filled to the brim with hopelessness, I fell asleep. Sleeping was my only escape. It was the only way I could stop the voices in my head telling me how much I’d fucked up. That I was letting everyone that I’d ever cared about down.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep the next time I woke up, but it was a pleasant wake up. Y/N face was leaning down so that she was eye level, a private smile on her face and a little blush on her cheeks. It looked like maybe she had been able to be outside for a little while and gotten some sun on her face.

“Hey.” She whispered like speaking too loud would disturb the room. As I slowly became more conscious, I noted that she’d opened the blinds to let some sun it. It glowed brightly against the beige carpet in the room, reflecting an ethereal glow on her face.

“Hey.” I croaked, lifting a hand to push the hair hanging in her face behind her ear. She leaned down a little further to kiss my nose and then my lips, bringing a small smile out.

“I’ve run a bath for you.”

And… the moment was gone. “A bath?” A bath required energy. A bath meant I’d need help getting in and out. A bath sounded terrible.

“Yeah.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, probably seeing my face fall. “I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is stay awake.”

“I don’t want you to do all the work.” I grumped, groaning quite dramatically as I sat up. “I don’t want you to have to do anything.”

“Would you rather your Mom helped?” Dirty. She played dirty. She deduced the answer by the appalled twist to my expression. “Maybe we could have a little fun.”

I lifted an eye brow in question, wondering if Y/N had lost her mind while I’d been sleeping. It was a tiny bit enticing but absolutely not while my parents were still in the house. That would just be weird. Plus, I wasn’t exactly in shape to be doing acrobatics in the garden tub.

“Your parents are gone shopping for some last minute Christmas things. They’ll probably be gone…” She checked the phone she’d been carrying in her right hand. “For the next two hours.”

And, there went most of my excuses.

I didn’t cave one bit, my face a study in extreme grumpiness, as she walked close beside me while I hobbled into the upstairs bathroom. Even as I saw the bath tub full of bubbles and surrounded by a couple of candles that had to be left over from Mackenzie, I remained against this whole thing. It was one thing for me to help her shower all last summer. It was completely another for her to do the same.

I loved her and I wanted to be her safety and her security. I couldn’t very well do that while she was washing my ass for me.

To Y/N’s credit, she never lost the smile on her face or the genuine care she put into getting me into the tub. Which, if I were in the mood to be honest, it wasn’t as complicated as I’d thought it would be. It didn’t even hurt as much as I thought it would, but I still would’ve preferred some damn baby wipes or a sink bath to this. I could already be napping again by now. I was already a little breathless from the ten feet I’d just crossed to get to the bathroom.

A thought occurred to me as I got lost watching her take her clothes off, neatly folding them up on the counter next to what I assumed were my clean clothes. (Because I hadn’t even thought about grabbing any) But, maybe she was pushing this bath because she was tired of sleeping next to someone that (maybe, possibly) didn’t smell too fresh. The reasons didn’t even really matter that much. I was in the tub now. Might as well be fucking clean.

“Sit up a little.” She helped by pushing my shoulders forward and then slipped in behind me, her legs spread wide to frame mine. “Okay, now lean back.” I carefully leaned back and despite my issue with being the little spoon, I had to admit that it felt good. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, the water gently lapping around us and her arms encircled around my chest so I wouldn’t slide down.

This was nice and quiet, the firm hold around my chest chased a bit of the crazy anxious feeling away. Y/N knew exactly what I was doing and the possibility of her not knowing hadn’t crossed my mind besides being a grumpy asshole.

I didn’t even have to move when she began soaping my hair with shampoo, using a cup to wet my hair and then rinse it. I begrudgingly had to admit, if only to myself, that having my hair washed felt fucking fantastic. I relaxed further, humming as I let my full weight lean against her, as she massaged my scalp with firm fingers.

Her chuckle vibrated against my back, making a relaxed smile slowly spread on my lips. “You and your hair.”

I cocked an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see it, “What do you mean, ‘you and your hair?’” My voice grumbled an octave or two deeper because I was on the cusp of falling asleep.

“All anyone has to do to wipe that grumpy look on your face is put their fingers in your hair. I’m not sure you can have your hair cut in public with the noises that you make. You might get arrested for being indecent.”

“What?” I tensed up a little, only because what she was describing wasn’t very manly at all. I couldn’t help the character traits that I held to so rigidly. “I do fine in public thank you very much.” I had evolved since I’d grown up in Texas and made sure to never extend anything but support, especially to those that chose to challenge the world’s expectations and dared to be exactly who they were. I admired their strength, but I was still stuck living by my Dad’s southern expectations and it was a lot easier to be understanding of someone else than it was to be understanding of myself.

“Shhh…” Her fingers slid down to dig deeply into my intensely tight neck muscles after she’d rinsed my hair thoroughly. I instantly forgot what I was ruffled about. “I didn’t mean to get your hackles up, Ackles. You’re still a big tough guy if that’s what you want to be.”

She got a grunt in response, mostly because I didn’t want to get into another discussion about how I hold myself to too many rigid self-expectations. Oh yes, she had made her point several times, but I just couldn’t stop. The anxiety that I’d been trying to fight since childhood always managed to make me fixate on my flaws. All through Days of Our Lives and Dark Angel, I would spend hours rehearsing and trying to have my line delivery perfect. When I would lay down at night, all the times I’d failed would keep me from sleeping well, including the time I’d failed to get a big part in the kindergarten play. I took a big breath and let it go, relaxing back into her warm, soft body.

I let myself drift in and out of consciousness, letting her hands wash away all the eck that had built up while I was laid up. Y/N had clipped her nails short so that she could massage my skin as she washed everywhere thoroughly, pushing the painful toxins and leaving me basically a pile of jelly. Damn it felt good. She cleared her throat, a tell that she had something important to say, and I braced myself for what would come next.

“You can’t do this to me again, okay?” She began to whisper, her warm breath and lips tickling the back of my neck and setting off goosebumps as she swiped the wash cloth over my healing incision. I hummed in answer, trying to maintain this relaxed state for as long as possible, but let her know I was listening. “You get a free pass for this one, but anything after this, there will be consequences.” I grunted, unable to conjure up enough energy to form words. “I won’t be able to handle it again, Jay. I never wanted to be close to anyone after my parents. But then, there you were. I will never be able to survive a day without you alive on this Earth somewhere, and that terrifies me.”

The sound of her sniffling brought me back to Earth, her words processing clearly. I laid my head back, held up by her shoulder as I searched blindly for her lips. My eyes were still closed as I instinctively found them. I was afraid if I opened my eyes that she would see the fear in mine as well. Not because of her threat of retribution and consequences, but the horrifying thought that if something happened to me she wouldn’t survive.

They were salty from tears when she pressed her lips against mine. I turned the kiss into something needy, something that expressed the vulnerable thing inside me with her name on it, without words. I wanted to pull her into my lap and hold her close but the internal sutures kept me from moving very much at all.

“M’not goin’ anywhere.” I pressed the words into her willing lips, my tongue easing in to glide over her teeth and then battle for dominance with her tongue.

“Okay,” she whispered on an inhale, her fingers teasing my happy trail below the surface. I was already responding to her kisses, my dick already filling with blood and half hard. I couldn’t help the grunt that was muffled by our lips when her fingers lightly grazed me. My eyes squeezed closed even tighter against the emotion that was stirring turmoil in my chest. The bath and the tease of something more made sense now. She wanted to put her hands on me to feel me alive and well. How could I ever have thought I’d be strong enough to begrudge her that.

From then on her touches were done with more intent, her fingers teasing my shaft only to go lower and gently roll my balls and hold them in her palm. I was gonna be a quick trigger and I couldn’t even bring myself to feel self-conscious about it. I hadn’t even put my own hand on me since a few days before my surgery. I hadn’t even thought of this since I’d been home, too distracted by the pain.

But, fuck if it didn’t feel good now. I was already panting hard, my head feeling dizzy from my short breaths and limited oxygen intake. I tried to turn around so that I could touch and taste more of her, but she stopped me with her hands pressing firmly against my pecks to keep me still. “Stay like this. This is just for you.”

I didn’t like being the only one on the receiving end. I got a lot of my pleasure from watching her feel good. I loved how responsive she was. I loved the noises that she made and how she would finally just let go and feel it. However, I had to admit that what she was doing, the being in control? Fuck, that was hot, too.

I finally had to stop trying to kiss her, leaning my head back and tucking my nose into the crook in her neck just so that I could breathe her scent into my lungs. I felt her other hand leave my side a moment and the sound of a thick liquid being squeezed from a bottle. It didn’t really register until her hand was slicking up my cock with a lubricant. It was oil based so that it didn’t wash off right away, removing the friction that water made uncomfortable. The warm, wet sensation was overwhelming and I couldn’t help the groan as I pushed my face further into her skin.

This time she didn’t tease, sensing my urgency in the twitch of my hips, her hand firm as she began pumping with purpose. I was already desperate, my breath started to get caught in my throat and hitch in my chest.

“Relax, let me do all the work.” She whispered like a dirty, dirty porn star and put pressure on my hip to try to keep me still. The action resulting in a moan from deep in my throat, a thrill of pleasure crawling up my spine. Fuck it was hot that she was bossing me around a little.

She would bring me right to the edge, my toes curling in the water, before she’d ease off. I could hardly stay still or hold in the vulnerable moans that echoed in the acoustics of the bathroom. I couldn’t help but to thrust into her hand as much as she would allow, planting my feet and trying to get the most out of every single one. To keep from sliding down, my hands were leaving finger print bruises as I gripped her thighs for dear life. Fuck!

“Oh, fuck. Oh, god-. …gonna… Sweetheart, I’m gonna-. Oh, fuck!” When she finally let me come it felt like months’ worth of come was dragged out of me in long, hard pulses. My balls clamped down so hard that they were actually sore when I could bring myself to give a fuck. To be honest, I didn’t know what I said, my mind blown and focused on just one thing, babbling the words that just rolled out of my mouth without a filter. There may have been curse words or multiple praises for unknown deities and moans that might’ve sounded like I was dying. All I really knew was that my throat was a little dry when I could finally focus on the room.

The orgasm had turned my entire body into jelly, my legs and arms were like limp noodles. I hissed through my teeth, my dick still very sensitive, when she washed the lubricant off with a warm, soapy wash cloth. God, as much as I’d complained and tried to convince Y/N that this wasn’t a good idea, I had to admit to myself that I had been wrong.

Even though I had been a grumpy ass, she had still been able to take care of me so completely that mixed in with the orgasmic haze was a hell of a lot of gratitude.

Getting me out of the bath tub and dried off would probably be a funny story later, but I was too relaxed to care. I could feel the dopey smile on my face as Y/N laughed at me while I leaned almost my entire weight into her side. “Whoo…” We listed to the left and to the right a little because my brain was mostly out of the building.

“Alright, chuckles, hang on for me for just a minute longer.” She kind of sounded like I was probably killing her back, but my center of gravity depended on her.

When we finally made it safely to the bedroom and into bed, she took great care as she tucked me in. She pulled the comforter up to beneath my chin and dipped to kiss my lips one more time.

It was pure luck that I was able to work my hand and to grab onto her shirt before she could get up to leave. She returned the big, dumb smile I could feel on my face. “Stay.”

The amused smile on her kiss swollen lips turned soft as she answered me with a kiss to my forehead. “Okay.” I watched blearily as she ditched her blue jeans and bra, climbing and snuggling up close next to me in just a t shirt and her blue lace panties. She laid up against me, but put her arm over my chest to avoid my incision, tucking her face beside mine, sharing my pillow. “Love you.”

I pressed my lips into her forehead, staying there as I fell into a few deep, quality hours of sleep. “Love you, too.”

Tagging (Forever’s): @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @callmesatansprincess, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangrl, @weasleywinchester,@easelweasel, @akshi8278, @tas898, @mandymoiselle1970, @pansexualmeteorite,

Tagging (CBD Only): @melissaj616, @katrena7, @deansdirtyduchess, @anticipate1003, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @shamelesslydean, @xristina-gkika

[cosmichobi]

the python’s playground (m)

in which a chance encounter with a bloodied stranger leads to you getting caught between two gangs

Word Count: 5k

(read part 2)

After another night of forcing a smile upon your face whilst taking orders in your unbearably fake customer service voice, you were determined to get home as fast as possible. Never had a shift been so bad that you considered walking through the notorious alleyway near your apartment, but there was a first time for everything.

You had taken three, maybe four steps when you saw him. He sat with his back against the wall, legs stretched out as far as they could go. You hadn’t expected him to have noticed your presence, but how could he not have, when you were standing there gawking at him? The single streetlight illuminated his face when he turned to look at you, and you gasped audibly at the sight of his blood.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

“The other guy looks worse, trust me.”

There was an innocence on his face that was incongruent amongst the blood settled on his lip, the bruise forming on his cheek, and the general cockiness in his demeanour. Perhaps it was those eyes of his, large and curious. He cocked his head to the side when you didn’t respond, his lips pressing together. “You were meant to laugh at that, sweetheart.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“It’s Y/N, not ‘sweetheart’.” Seconds passed before you realised he wasn’t going to tell you his name, and you felt silly for being disappointed. “Look, I don’t live too far from here, you can come to mine and I’ll help you get cleaned up.” His eyes travelled from your face to the shoes on your feet, taking in your waitress uniform and deciding for himself that you were indeed a good girl, the opposite of the trouble he usually got himself into.

“I don’t exactly need your help, but I’m not gonna say no to a pretty girl like you offering to bring me home.” Choosing not to respond to his statement, you offered your hand to him and he was quick to take it. An accomplished sigh escaped your lip once you managed to help him up, he was heavier than you expected.

“This isn’t something I usually do, by the way.” You doubted he cared, but you needed to say something. The last few minutes of the journey were characterised by complete silence, save for the sound of your footsteps, and you couldn’t stand it.

“So, I’m special?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But is it what you meant?”

You stopped to look up at him.

“No.” He laughed, and you could only roll your eyes.

When you reached the front door of your apartment you took a second to warn the man, whose name you still didn’t know, not to wake your roommate, Jennie. She was just as sleep-deprived as you were, and savoured the few hours of sleep a night she managed to get. You struggled to recall if you had cleaned the place before you left for work, but the key was already in the lock, and all you could do was hope that you had.

“Nice place.” Were the first words he said upon entering your apartment. He wasn’t surprised, either, as you seemed pretty well put-together. Then again, most people were well put-together in comparison to a bleeding man sat in an alleyway.

You disappeared into the bathroom as he walked around. When he heard the tap running, he made his way to the bathroom door, and stood just outside it as he spoke. “I was serious about not needing your help, I’ll be fine.”

“Too late. Just sit on the couch.” He’d known you all of half an hour and already had an inkling as to how demanding you could be. He chose to truly make himself comfortable, spreading himself across the couch, taking up as much space as possible. When you emerged from the bathroom, you carried two towels and what looked to be a box of plasters.

He wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to do all of this for him, and that you were wasting your time, but he knew you would be quick to shut him down. He decided it would be easier for the both of you if he let you do what you wanted, and if that meant helping him, then so be it.

Realising there was hardly any space for you on the couch, you awkwardly crouched in the air until you were level with his face. You put a hand under his chin and turned him towards you, taking the first towel, the damp one, and lightly pressing it against his wounds. Having been standing so long at your job, your legs wanted nothing more than to collapse underneath you, and he seemed to have noticed this.

“You can sit on my lap, your legs are shaking.”

“I don’t even know your name, yet you’re telling me to sit on your lap?”

“It’s Jungkook. Happy now?” You said nothing, but you allowed him to guide you onto his lap, his hands on your hips steadying you as you sank down onto him. His hands didn’t leave your hips as you continued to dab at his face. Once you were satisfied that the wounds were clean, you reached down to grab the dry towel, his grip on your hips tightened to ensure you didn’t fall from the couch as you did this. He was strong.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder as you began to pat the wounds dry, and one of his hands slid down to rest on your thigh. It was rare that a stranger’s touch brought goosebumps to your skin, but it became clear a while ago that whoever Jungkook was, he was different.

“There must be a less intimate way of doing this.” You spoke, to which Jungkook chuckled.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be as fun. I can’t pretend I don’t enjoy having you in this position.” Of course, you could tell what it was that Jungkook wanted. Whether it was the confidence with which he touched you, or the way he bit down on his lip when he thought you weren’t looking, something told you that he was used to getting what he wanted.  

“Well, I’m sure you’ve had many girls in this position.” You set the dry towel down, and looked at the plasters. You were quick to speak again before he could rebut your claim. “Do you want the plasters, or no?”

“I’ll live without them.” You shrugged. It was his decision, after all. His didn’t remove his hands from your body, and you weren’t making any effort to move. You didn’t want to give him what he wanted, but he was making it hard for you. The hand that was on his shoulder now dropped to his chest as you began to lose yourself to the lust that often drove you to make poor decisions. Your other hand found its way to the back of his neck before you began to lean into him. When your faces were mere inches apart, the tension having given him a semi that you could feel between your thighs. Before your lips pressed together, you mentally slapped yourself back into reality.

You sat up.

“Do you want some painkillers?” Your voice was chirpy, as if you weren’t seconds away from kissing him.

“No, I want to kiss you.”

“I’ll get you some painkillers.” He stared at you, his face a combination of amusement and disbelief as you leapt off of him before returning with an unopened pack of painkillers. You tossed them to him, and he caught them with one hand.

That was hot.

“I guess you’re about to kick me out of your apartment, too.”

“No, you can stay. It’s late, I don’t mind if you stay the night. You seem pretty comfortable on the couch, anyway.”

“He stole our fucking orange juice!” Jungkook wasn’t there when you woke up, which didn’t surprise you. No, you didn’t know him well, or at all, but he certainly wasn’t the type to stick around for long. Adding in the fact that nothing had even happened between the two of you, you had no reason to expect him to stay. However, you weren’t prepared to find out that the guy had taken your goddamn juice.

Jennie, who told you that she hadn’t heard the two of you during the night and slept through your whole exchange, exploded with laughter once you realised what Jungkook had done. She sat on the kitchen counter, barely able to eat her cereal as she watched you yell expletives into the air.

“I’m not surprised,” she began, once she was finally done laughing at you. “Assholes seem to be your type.”

“He wasn’t an asshole.” You sighed, though from the way Jennie’s brows furrowed you could tell she didn’t believe you. “Just a thief who really likes orange juice, I guess.”

“Eh, could be worse.” The doorbell rang. From the way Jennie hopped off the counter, leaving her cereal as an afterthought, you could tell it was her boyfriend, Seungcheol.

If anything was worse than having your precious orange juice stolen by a stranger who you chose to help, it would be dating the leader of a gang, which is exactly what Seungcheol was. You could never understand how Jennie did it, because the whole ordeal seemed to be more stress than anyone needed.

“This was outside your door.” You hadn’t even noticed the envelope in Seungcheol’s hand, you were too focused on the bruises on his face. Granted, you’d seen him like this before, but never this bad. Jennie once boasted to you that he always won his fights, which made her worry slightly less about him. You weren’t sure he’d won this one.

When he handed you the envelope, you saw even more bruises on his knuckles. You knew better than to say anything, for it wasn’t your place to. You did, however, notice how Jennie pouted at him once he turned to her.

Your name was written in the centre of the cream envelope in handwriting that you didn’t recognise.

“What happened this time?” You heard Jennie ask as you opened up the envelope. Seungcheol’s lack of response had you thinking for a second that she was talking to you, and if he did say anything to her, you certainly didn’t hear it.

Inside the envelope was a small piece of card, with a paragraph addressed to you.

Y/N

As a thanks for taking care of me, and as a sorry for stealing your orange juice, I’m inviting you to a party tomorrow night at the following address. I understand if you don’t want to come, but it would be nice to see you again. If you do come, wear something nice for me.

Jeon Jungkook.

“What the fuck?” The question was mainly directed at yourself, but Jennie and Seungcheol must have heard, since their questioning gazes fell upon you. “Listen to this bullshit.” You read the card aloud. Seungcheol’s jaw clenched.

“Say that name again.” You repeated his name, unaware of why that of all things caught his attention. Seungcheol’s hands balled into fists. You had to look away from the bruises on his hand, they looked so painful. “Jeon fucking Jungkook.”

“I don’t get it.”

“He’s a Python.”

You mentally kicked yourself for not realising this sooner. Of course Jungkook was in a gang, that’s the only thing that would explain the circumstances in which you found him. As your luck would have it, he was a Python. Just when you thought you might have wanted to see him again.

You didn’t know too much about the details – Seungcheol saw to it that Jennie, and you by extension, were as protected from this life as possible – but you knew for sure that the Pythons were his gang’s biggest rivals, and you knew they currently held one of his members hostage.

Silence fell among the three of you. There had been one question burning the tip of your tongue in the seconds since finding out Jungkook’s identity. The other guy looks worse, trust me. His words rang in your ears, they banged against your skull, they mocked you. The ‘other guy’ he spoke so dismissively of, that might have been your best friend’s boyfriend.

“D-Did he do that to you?”

Seungcheol swallowed instead of answering your question. You knew that asking again would be futile.

“You’re going to that party.” His voice was authoritative and powerful, a far cry from the soft one he often used when speaking to his girlfriend.

“Uh, no she’s not.” Jennie interjected. “She’s not going to a fucking Python party, that’s so dangerous!”

“Not if we play our cards right. They’ve got Wonwoo, and we’re getting him back.” You felt that somehow, you were at fault, and so you were listening. “Their parties are never just for fun – they’re always to hide something. Drug deals, money transfers, you name it. It’s the youngest three members that host them, whilst everyone else does the dirty work.”

“So, what’s going on tomorrow then?”

“Where the hell did you go last night?” Yoongi’s voice hammered at Jungkook before he could even get the door shut behind him. He strolled into the room and placed the carton of orange juice that he had taken from your fridge onto the centre table.

“Some OJ for your trouble.”

“Jungkook.”

“I did what you asked me to do,” Jungkook pointed at his face, the wounds making it clear what he had gotten up to the night before. “Isn’t it obvious?” Yoongi exhaled slowly as he clenched and unclenched his fist. Jungkook decided to offer the information before Yoongi had to ask him again, not that he believed that Yoongi would ever hurt him. “A girl found me. She took me to her place-”

“Okay, I don’t need to hear the rest.” Yoongi held his hand up, and Jungkook decided in that moment that it was better to let him think that the two of you had had sex. Somehow, it was less embarrassing, if that was the right word. Maybe he wanted to protect you. There’d be too many questions if Yoongi had known that you willingly helped him, and that he had accepted the help. He’d want to know how much information Jungkook had given you, he’d want to make sure that you’d keep quiet about what you saw.

“Well, you did ask.”

“You had me thinking Seungcheol got the better of you.”

“Me? Come on now.” Jungkook’s (merited) arrogance brought a smirk to Yoongi’s face. He gave Jungkook an affectionate pat on the head, well, as affectionate as it could be from Yoongi. He walked out of the room, and just as he left, Taehyung waltzed in.

“Only Jeon Jungkook manages to walk away from a fight and jump right into a girl’s bed.” It wasn’t the first time Taehyung had eavesdropped. Jungkook was closer to Taehyung than anyone else, and even then he struggled to tell the truth about what had happened. The words were right there, ready to be spilled, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

“I invited her to tomorrow’s party.” Jungkook’s voice was hushed, he didn’t know who else was in earshot. It was clear from the way his lips pressed together that Taehyung didn’t exactly support the decision, so Lord knows how everyone else would feel. “Don’t make that face, she’s harmless.”

“How would you even know that?” If there was one thing Jungkook absolutely could not stand, it was the judgemental gaze he would get from Taehyung whenever he made bad decisions, which was at least once a month. He sighed.

“Look, I stole her orange juice. It’s the least I could do.”

After getting off the phone with Jennie, who had made you promise to text her hourly updates, you ran through the plan in your head. Seungcheol assured you that during the first few hours of these parties, there were only three Pythons present, Jungkook being one of them. The other four, meanwhile, dealt with business, or did the ‘dirty work’, as he had told you earlier. You didn’t ask him to elaborate on what that meant, you hoped that you didn’t have to find out. You planned to work within a two-hour window, which you calculated would give you enough time to get in and get out before any other Pythons arrived.

Whilst you distracted Jungkook, who often had his eyes and ears peeled, Jihoon and Soonyoung would break in and they would get Wonwoo out. They would call you as soon as they were done, and you would be free to leave.

Simple.

The chill of the night air almost distracted you from how daunting the task was. Part of you wanted to turn back, but you were doing this for a cause greater than yourself. You gave yourself a pep talk as you stared up the steps, but then the door opened, and Jungkook stepped out. His face was still wounded, of course, but he looked better than he did the night before. You felt bad for thinking this, but it astounded you how he managed to look so good with all the wounds that he had.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you from the window.” Your eyes narrowed. “Not in a creepy way, or anything.” It was little moments like that, the moments of slight awkwardness, that made you think perhaps he wasn’t the suave player he painted himself out to be.

He didn’t pretend to look at anything other than you as you made your way up the stairs and into the house, biting down on his lip in the same way he had done two nights before.

The house was filled with people, and you wondered exactly how many of them were affiliated with the Pythons. There was something unnerving about how difficult it was to tell – they all looked so ordinary. You swallowed, realising you had been silent for too long.

“You live here?”

“Yeah, me and a few other guys.” He placed a hand on the small of your back, the contact was surprising, and his hands were cold. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’d like some orange juice, actually.” His face flushed at your words before he led you to the kitchen. He didn’t remove his hand from your back, and you eventually got used to the temperature. It was so comfortable, in fact, that you practically forgot it was there until he removed it to open the fridge. There wasn’t much in there, you noticed. “Do you usually steal drinks from people?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He was quick to pour some juice into a cup and held it out to you, eager to get you relaxed and comfortable. He hated that you felt threatened by him, he could tell by the way you looked at him. Taking one look at the cup, you reached over and took the carton from his other hand.

“Thank you.”

“I deserved that.” You leaned against the fridge whilst you took a swing of the carton. Your throat was dry in anticipation for what the night had in store, and you would honestly have taken whatever drink was offered. His gaze was fixed on your cleavage, and he broke out into a grin when he made eye contact with you, realising he’d been caught. “You really did wear something nice for me.” The sentence caused a few girls to whip their heads around, looking at the two of you with what you assumed was jealousy in their eyes.

“Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Follow me.” And you did, avoiding eye contact with the other girls as you scurried behind him and down the hallway. There was a door right at the end of the hall, smaller than the others you had walked past, and you thought that it must have led to the basement. “Laundry room.” He spoke, as if reading your mind. The fact he said anything was confirmation, to you at least, that whatever lay behind that door wasn’t the laundry room.

As if boys like him did laundry.

His room was neater than you expected it to be. He probably tidied it up in expectation that someone would be seeing it that night, whether he intended on that someone being you, you weren’t sure. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him, but you simply shook your head. You perched yourself on the corner of his desk, a foot resting on his chair.

“Be honest,” you started, flipping your hair behind you. You already knew where he was looking, and you needed to make sure to entice him. “Did you only invite me here to finish what we started the other night?”

He cocked his head to the side as he decided how to answer your question. Of course, part of him was hoping for that, but he had no idea how you would take the suggestion, and he didn’t want to insult you.

“I wanted to see you again, it wasn’t just about that.” You wanted to believe him, but you had to remember who he was. He had probably perfected the art of lying, not only to girls but to everyone around him.

“Oh.” You pouted, taking a foot off the chair and sauntering over to him. You leant over in front of him so that your face was teasingly close to his, and you took his face into your hands. “Finishing it off sounds like a good idea to me.” His eyes glanced towards your lips as he licked his own.

“It’s your decision.”

You felt so powerful with his face in your hands and the knowledge that all he wanted was you. You were willing to bet that if you asked him where Wonwoo was right that second, he would’ve told you. You weren’t going to divert from the original plan, though, and you sure as hell weren’t going to let him know what you knew. You were going to do what you were sent to do – distract him.

You kissed him. As rugged as he was, his lips were soft. The pressing of your lips together was all the invitation he needed to bring his hands to your hips and pull you onto his lap. His grip was tight around you, it was like that now he finally had you, he wasn’t going to let you go. He only removed his hands to give you assistance when taking his shirt off, revealing his toned body and muscles. 

You struggled to gauge how long it had been since you arrived at the party, but you were sure Jihoon and Soonyoung didn’t need this long to break into the basement. You would continue to be a distraction to Jungkook until they called you. You told yourself it had nothing to do with your enjoyment of it. 

He flipped you over so that you were lying on your back, with him on top of you. One hand was gently wrapped around the side of your neck as he placed wet, hungry kisses on you. Meanwhile, his free hand had dipped into your shorts, fingers massaging you over your underwear. You whimpered at the sensations, his tongue and fingers working together to get you wet and ready.

“Moaning for me already, huh?” You could only groan in response, to which his lips curled upwards. “Let’s have some fun.” He pulled away from you, reached an arm over to one of his desk drawers and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs.

He hovered over you, settled between your legs as he swung the handcuffs in the air, mischief in his eyes. His gaze sent heat straight to your core, but if tonight was going to be productive, you needed to be in control. You weren’t going to lose yourself, and you weren’t going to give him what he wanted.

Well, not everything at least.

You reached for the handcuffs, only to end up whining when he pulled them away from you.

“These are for me, sweetheart.” You wagged a finger at him, getting onto your knees. The two of you were at a standoff, breathing heavily as you stared at each other, nothing but lust in the air. 

“I think you owe it to me.” You placed kisses up the length of his torso, and on his neck. You lightly bit down on one of his earlobes, and as you did this you reached up and pulled the handcuffs from his grasp.

“Well played.” You ordered him to lie on the bed, and it wasn’t long before you had him handcuffed to the bedposts. To have completely surrendered control to you was something new to him, but it was exciting. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you rested your legs either side of him, pulled your top over your head and discarded of your bra. “Fuck, your tits are amazing.” His desire to touch you was unbearable, and he’d barely been tied up for five minutes. “Play with them for me.”

You took a breast in each hand, squeezing them gently as his eyes widened. You rolled your nipples between your fingers as you grinded against him, feeling him grow harder by the second.

“Don’t you wish you could touch them?” You teased, letting go of your breasts and putting your hands down either side of him, your palms sinking into the mattress.

“Fuck, when are you gonna let me?” You reached over and traced a finger down the side of his face.

“When I decide that you’ve earned it.” You turned your attention to his chest, slowly licking one of his nipples. He hissed sharply, prompting you to place your mouth over his nipple and enclose it in the warmth as you swirled your tongue over it. He began to thrust his hips upwards, writhing underneath you as your tongue drove him crazy. You squeezed your thighs together, mentally slapping yourself for feeling this way. 

“Have I earned it yet? Can I touch you now?” his impatience only spurred you to keep him tied up for longer, and you chose to not respond to his question once you started to unbuckle his belt. “Fuck, please. Please, let me touch you.”

His begging was music to your ears.

After spending entirely too much time bickering with each other as they exhausted most of their methods, Jihoon and Soonyoung managed to get the basement cellar door open. As agreed, Jihoon made his way down the staircase.

Once he was inside, he felt around the wall for the light, using the small beam of light provided by Soonyoung as guidance. He switched it on as soon as he found it, expecting the light to expose Wonwoo’s whereabouts. He expected to see him sat on a chair, or perhaps cowered in the corner of the room.

Instead, he saw nothing.

It was empty.

By the time Jihoon called you, you had Jungkook’s dick buried deep in your mouth. He was still handcuffed to the bed, which only frustrated him further, as he wanted nothing more than to place a hand behind your head and hold you in place as he fucked your mouth. He had to thrust up against you, whining helplessly when u would pull away to tease him. The sight of the trail of saliva between your mouth and the tip of his penis was almost enough to get him to cum right there, you were so fucking hot.

“Your mouth feels amazing.” He puffed. “When you untie me I’m gonna fuck that little mouth of yours the way it deserves to be fucked.”

The vibration of your phone against the desk was an obnoxious mood-killer. You jumped up, taking no notice of Jungkook’s begs to just fucking ignore it, and flew over to the desk to see that Jihoon was calling. You didn’t hesitate in picking up. 

“Wonwoo’s not here.” Jihoon’s voice was hushed.

“What?!”

“He’s not in the goddamn basement, which means they must know something’s up. We’re leaving right now and you need to get the fuck out of there before they start suspecting you, if they don’t already. We’ll wait for you at the park a few roads away from here.” He hung up before you had the chance to respond.

Your panties were soaked, and your breathing was heavy and uneven, but you would be stupid to not listen to Jihoon. All of a sudden, you were worried about being in a room alone with Jungkook. You had no idea what he knew. What if he was one step ahead?

“Y/N?” his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. 

“My friend needs me, I need to go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” You had never gotten dressed so quickly in your life. You avoided eye contact with him, desperately hoping he didn’t notice how badly your hands were shaking. You went over to remove the handcuffs, and he put a hand around one of your wrists once they were free.

“Will I see you again?” No. The door swung open before you could respond. You don’t know who it was that walked in, but he didn’t seem fazed by the image of a completely naked Jungkook. He actually looked like he has something to say.

“Fuck off, Tae!” Tae, as Jungkook called him, threw his hands in the air and backed out of the room. You muttered a goodbye to Jungkook and grabbed your phone before hurrying out of the room.

“Leaving so soon?” Tae asked, leaning against the wall. You nodded, not daring to look up at him. You dashed down the hall, out of the house, and hopefully out of their lives. You don’t know what Tae knew, but you felt his eyes on you the whole time.

You struggled to sleep that night, not even after Jennie had made you hot chocolate, and especially not after Seungcheol’s tirade of curses when he realised the plan had failed. It felt like you had just been able to get to sleep when your phone buzzed, signalling an incoming text.

It was from an unknown number. The brightness of your phone in the dark hurt your eyes as you squinted to read the message.

You had me fooled, sweetheart. But you didn’t really think we’d leave him in the basement, did you?

[mapleleafstrash]

Mason (Part Two) - Morgan Rielly

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the wonderful feed back I got for part one! Part two was requested seventeen times!

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Morgan Rielly

Words: 4,450

Warnings: Language

[Part One]

“Stop freaking out, everything is going to be fine,” Simon whispered to you as you stood on the balls of your feet and rocked away.

You were a nervous wreck.

Mason however, was bouncing around in pure excitement. His new proclaimed favourite team had beaten the Canucks four to two, with Auston Matthews and Morgan, now blessed as his two favourite players, both scoring goals.

In between the second and third periods, Morgan had quickly told you to meet him out in the parking garage near the back of the arena, and had gotten security to give you a fluorescent yellow pass, allowing you access.

So here you stood, awaiting your fate.

The entire game you kept catching Morgan stealing quick glances of you. You’d stare back but it never deterred him, as he continued observing you and your son. You figured your presence would have thrown the assistant captain off his game, but it seemed to do the exact opposite.

You were aware that Morgan hadn’t been having the best season, and that his offensive production had diminished drastically in comparison to his previous season. But he showed no sign of slowing down tonight, as he had a three-point performance.

“Sorry I’m late, I got held up,” the exasperated voice of Morgan exclaimed from behind, causing you to jump in surprise.

“Oh it’s fine, we didn’t even notice,” Simon told him, speaking in your place.

“I see,” Morgan muttered, his eyes meeting yours. Looking away quickly, you took in Mason’s frame while he looked up at Morgan, his eyes twinkling in adoration.

“You played so good!” Mason cheered, putting his hand up, signalling for a high-five.

Morgan, playing along, happily obliged, but you caught the slight look of surprise that ran across his features before he quickly covered it up with a soft smile. “Thanks bud,”

Morgan’s blue eyes then flashed back to you and you stood still, not sure how to approach the situation. You felt frozen, like his gaze was holding you where you stood. It became almost awkward when Simon spoke again,

“So, uh ice cream, right?”

The both of you whipped your heads towards the other young adult in your group, while Mason jumped up and down.

“Yeah! Ice cream!” Mason exclaimed, grabbing your hand and shaking your arm wildly.

“Okay Mace,” you sighed, before gripping his hand back, forcing Mason to stop wailing around.

“Did you guys want to meet us there? I could take Mason?” Simon asked, well more like suggested.

Your stomach dropped when Morgan seemed to agree, nodding in thanks to your friend, “that sounds good,”

“Aww but I wanted to drive with Mr. Morgan,” Mason whined, looking up at you sadly.

You crouched down to his level and placed your hand onto his head, and pushed his blonde hair back soothingly. “Maybe you can drive with him another time Mason. I promise I’ll make sure he comes with me, okay?”

Mason sighed and rolled his head back, looking directly towards Morgan. “Promise?”

This time Morgan spoke, “I promise. I’ll see you just in a bit. I just want to talk to your Mom,”

Mason seemed to accept his declaration and hugged you quickly, before running towards Simon and taking his outstretched hand. You watched silently as your son and best friend left hand in hand, leaving you completely alone with Morgan.

Taking a gulp, you stayed still while you waited for Morgan to make the first move. He’d been the one who wanted this anyways.

Morgan sighed, and ruffled his blonde hair, something he’d always done when he was stressed or frustrated. I’m sure he was currently feeling both.

“Hey Mo! Are you coming back to the hotel or, oh,”

You both turned and saw one of Morgan’s team mates approaching, who had stopped obviously when he noticed you. 

“I’ll meet you back later. Don’t wait up,” Morgan spoke bluntly, causing the younger looking man to just nod before turning back around and head back to where he came from.

The tension you felt swirling around the both of you was almost suffocating. You could hear your blood rushing through your veins and your stomach was in knots. You hadn’t ever felt this uncomfortable in front of Morgan. You felt him watching you, his eyes cutting into you like daggers. 

You could hear a pin drop. That’s how silent the garage was. 

You didn’t know how to start; you didn’t even know what to say. Were you sorry? Very. But you were going to stand by your decision; it was all you had.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Morgan finally said, his voice coming out raspy, almost sounding like he was in pain. 

Looking up to meet his gaze, your breath hitched. His eyes had slowly started watering, a reddish tinge appearing on his lower eyelids. His eyebrows were arched, and a crease had formed across his forehead. He was gritting his teeth while he watched you. 

“I,” you started, but closed your mouth just as fast. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and you shook your head, looking away. You wrapped your arms around your center, hugging yourself. It was the only comfort you could currently find, because you knew Morgan was the last person who was going to sympathize with you at the moment.

“So he is mine,” Morgan spoke, looking skyward as he firmed his lips together.

“Morgan,” you whispered, “you, you don’t understand,”

You were shaking now.

“You’re right Y/N, you’re god damn right I don’t understand!” Morgan shouted, his eyes set ablaze.

You let out a shaky breath, with tears now dripping down your cheeks. Shaking your head, you looked back at him pleadingly, “I did it for you,”

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit Y/N! You didn’t do it for me! You did it for you!" 

"That’s not true!” you screamed back, feeling overcome with emotion. You weren’t going to stand here and let him berate you when he didn’t even understand your motivations, your reasoning for everything.

“Then what is? What’s the truth?” Morgan asked, raising his voice again, “Because all I know is that my girlfriend from all the way back in fucking high school ended up having my baby, my child, and she didn’t even bother to fucking tell me!” he cried out, looking towards you full of hurt.

“I’m not doing this,” you choked out, shaking your head back and forth, “I understand you’re upset but I can’t stand here and have you screaming at me like this Morgan,”

He took a step back, and let out an unsteady breath. Lowering his shoulders, and unclenching his jaw, one stray tear leaked down Morgan’s face as he stared at you, obvious stress showing in his features.

“I’m not just upset Y/N, I’m confused, I’m bitter, but most of all, I’m just hurt,” Morgan explained, “You knew me better than anyone, so how could you not tell me?”

You sniffled, “because, you were gone Morgan. You had already left when I found out, and I didn’t want to jeopardize anything for you. You were living out your dream, and I didn’t want to be the one to hold you back. I knew if I told you, you’d either want me to come out to Moosejaw with you, or you’d come back here, and I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t have that,” you spoke, making sure to tread lightly. “I didn’t want to ruin your chances of playing professional hockey, because I knew how much playing meant to you, and still means to you,”

“Y/N,” Morgan sighed, “that doesn’t matter,”

“No,” you uttered, “don’t you dare say that to me. Because it did matter and it still does. We were seventeen Morgan! Would you have really wanted to come back here to play house with me? What would your parents have said? And yeah, I’ll admit, I knew you wouldn’t just abandon me, but I couldn’t have you throwing away your dream. Do you honestly think you’d be where you are right now if I had told you?”

Morgan firmed his lips together hard and looked up, he knew you were right. 

“But that still doesn’t make it okay,” Morgan said, his voice cracking.  “I loved you Y/N, and it broke my heart to end it with you, you knew that,”

He was on the verge of sobbing, and you weren’t too far behind.

“I know,” you whimpered out, “which is why I did what I had to do. I had to keep it a secret Morgan, because I wanted you to play hockey, I wanted you to continue doing what you loved,”

Morgan scoffed, wiping away more stray tears from his cheeks, “but what about Mason? How was this fair for him?”

“It wasn’t,” you admitted, “but he’s done so good Morgan. I’ve had a lot of help over the years, and we’ve both gotten to a place where we’re both comfortable, we’re happy. I know that I haven’t been able to give him the best of everything, but he’s still been so good to me. Sure, he gets himself into trouble sometimes, but for the most part, he’s just a wonderful little boy, and I love him more than anything,”

Morgan’s lips curved upwards slightly, but he still looked very uneasy. He licked his lips before speaking again, “Does he know?”

You shook your head, “I’ve never brought you up, and Mason’s never really asked me any specific questions about you. But it’s coming, I know it is,”

Morgan nodded, and stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, looking down at his feet. 

“If you don’t want me to tell him, I won’t,” you added, causing Morgan to whip his head back up to look at you. 

“You think that’s what I want?” Morgan questioned, his eyebrows raised.

“You tell me,” you said, “but if you’re going to do this, and I mean be in Mason’s life, you can’t just back out later Morgan. If we’re going to tell him, I can’t have you coming in and out of his life. That’s not fair to him,”

“I know,” Morgan nodded, “and it’s not fair to you either,”

You parted you lips, as his words sunk into you.

“But how can I just walk away from this?” Morgan questioned. “I can’t just leave him behind Y/N, he’s my son,”

You nodded your head, a sob escaping you, causing you to hold your hand up against your mouth. Weeping quietly, your body tensed up when you felt Morgan wrap his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly, just like he used to. It was if no time had passed. Your body still fit into his perfectly. 

Standing in the dark, empty parking garage, wrapped in Morgan’s embrace, you felt your body start to become numb, as the adrenaline from this entire situation finally ceased, and you became drained. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, almost like a whisper.

“I know, me too,” Morgan replied, before pressing his lips onto your temple and holding you tight.

“Mommy!”

Your Y/E/C eyes looked to your left to see Mason waving at you, while he sat in one of the parlour’s booths on his knees. Simon looked towards you, evident concern appearing across his face.

You knew you looked like crap. Your eyes were puffy and you no doubt looked exhausted due to your little screaming match back at the arena. But you knew the man walking in behind you looked no better.

“Hi Mace,” you spoke, as you made your way towards the booth, sliding in beside your son and pulling him in tight. You needed to hold your little boy, even just for a moment, especially after your previous conversation with his father.

“Have you decided what you want Mason?” Simon asked your son, who pursed his lips in thought. 

He then looked towards you, “chocolate or peanut butter?”

“Peanut butter definitely,” Morgan said, answering for you, causing you to flash your eyes towards him, “that was always your Mom’s favourite,”

You were taken aback, and you felt your cheeks flush. He still remembered?

“Ooh ooh, Mr. Morgan! Are you going to get ice cream too?” Mason asked, making Morgan smile softly towards him before he nodded, “I think I’ll have a bit,”

“Wait a second,” Mason said, crossing his arms against his chest and looking up towards the larger frame of Morgan, “are you supposed to be eating ice cream? I thought hockey players weren’t supposed to eat junk food,”

Morgan chuckled, but you spoke first, “well neither are you, but here we are Mace,” you said, tickling his sides, causing him to giggle.

“It was your idea,” Simon interjected, smirking at you.

“Yeah! It was your idea Mommy,” Mason said, sending you a cheeky grin while copying his Uncle’s words.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” you laughed, sending a friendly glare towards Simon. He held his hands up in defence, “Mason, don’t be saucy with you mother,”

“Why don’t you head up to the counter with Morgan, Mace,” you suggested, looking up towards Morgan, who seemed to be in a trance.

Blinking out of it, Morgan nodded towards you, before flashing a grin towards Mason, “yeah bud, pick out whatever you want, it’s my treat,” he explained, before Mason cheered and jumped over your lap, walking away with him.

“So, how’d it go? I mean, he’s here so it couldn’t have been that bad,” Simon spoke, but you shook your head.

“It was brutal Si, absolutely brutal,” you sighed.

“That bad huh?” he said, sending you a sad look. “I didn’t want to say anything but you both look like,”

“Crap?” you smirked.

“Well, you can tell you were both quite upset earlier,” Simon admitted.

You folded your lips together and nodded. Luckily the line was long at the front cash, which gave you more time to talk with you friend. 

“He wants to tell Mason,” you explained, and Simon’s eyes widened slightly.

“He does?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “he says he wants to be in his life,”

“And you’re okay with that?” He questioned, and you smiled sadly.

“Mason deserves to know his father Si, and his father deserves to know him too,” you said, “and trust me, I know this is definitely going to be an uphill battle for the next, well, who knows how long, but I can’t keep my son away from Morgan. Especially considering Morgan could’ve handled this much worse. Mason needs a father Simon, and you, along with all of the other men in Mason’s life have done such an amazing job, but,”

“None of us are his Dad,” Simon said, finishing your statement with a nod. “I completely get it Y/N, trust me, you aren’t hurting my feelings at all. But, I just want you to be careful, okay?”

You nodded, flashing him a smile, “I will. I have to be,”

“So is he going to tell him tonight?” Simon asked.

“I think so,” you replied, “would you mind if it was just me and him with Mason though, when we tell him?”

Simon sent you a smile, “Of course, that’s no problem,”

“You’re the best,” you grinned, causing Simon to chuckle, “even though you wanted to murder me a few hours ago?”

“Don’t push it,” you joked, laughing along with your friend.

“Well, I should get going then,” Simon sighed, before sliding out of the booth.

“Thanks again Simon,” you spoke, and Simon smiled, “no worries Y/N, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,”

“Sounds good,” you nodded, before watching your friend exit the busy parlour.

“Here you go Mommy!” Mason exclaimed, as he ran up to your table, setting down your own bowl of ice cream in front of you. “Peanut butter with chocolate sauce and pink sprinkles,”

You grinned at your son, “and how did you know that’s what I wanted?" 

"Mr. Morgan told me,” Mason claimed with a large beam. 

You firmed your lips together and watched as Mason ran back towards Morgan, who was currently paying at the counter. You couldn’t help but feel your lips curve upwards as you watched them interact. Mason was definitely Morgan’s. They looked like father and son, it was undeniable. You caught Morgan’s blue eyes, as the pair made their way back towards you, a cup of their own ice cream in both their hands.

“Where’s Uncle Simon?” Mason asked you, looking deflated once he realized your friend had left.

“He had to head home baby, but he wanted me to tell you that he’d see you this weekend when you guys go to the movies, just like he promised, okay?” You said, trying to perk Mason up. The two boys had made plans earlier in the week to go see one of the new animated films.

“Okay,” Mason sighed, before digging into his frozen dessert.

“What do you say to Morgan?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow as Mason swallowed his ice cream.

“Thank you Mr. Morgan,” Mason chirped, before taking another bite.

“It was my pleasure buddy,” Morgan told him, “anytime,”

“Thanks for this too,” you muttered, nudging your cup of ice cream. Morgan just nodded.

By the time you were all finished your dessert, Mason was finally coming down from his sugar high. He was already up way past his normal bed time, and with the night he’d just had, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“Hey Mace, did you want to head home,” you questioned, and your son just nodded, as he leaned his head onto your shoulder.

Smiling slightly, Morgan observed his son from his side of the table. You knew he was disappointed that he couldn’t have more time with Mace, but he was still only five, meaning he unfortunately wasn’t able to stay up very late.

“Well, why don’t we head out? I still got to get you guys home,” Morgan spoke, and you nodded. 

While Morgan went to throw out the trash, you struggled to stand up with both Mason and your purse in your arms. Noticing this, Morgan reached out towards your son, but stopped suddenly. He looked towards you, as if he was asking permission. He hadn’t wanted to overstep his boundaries.

“Would you mind?” you asked softly, and Morgan smiled, before taking Mason out of your arms and following you out of the building.

After getting Mason buckled into the back seat of Morgan’s rental, you got into the front seat of the sedan, and gave Morgan directions back to your home. The radio played softly in the background, and you stared out the window as you passed through the downtown core. Tonight’s events swirled through your mind as you went over everything that had occurred. You couldn’t believe what had happened. But it did, and you knew you had to deal with it.

As Morgan pulled into your driveway, you looked towards his figure. He sighed as he shifted the gears into park. Looking back at you, you silently stared towards one another, as if you were having a silent conversation. It wasn’t awkward, it was just, different. Neither of you knew what to say, or what to do. But you knew that no matter what happened, from now on, you had each other, and somehow, it comforted you.

“Did you want to come in?” You asked, as his blue eyes searched your own gaze.

“I don’t know,” Morgan sighed, “do I?”

You firmed your lips together, and looked back towards your sleeping son. “I think you do,” you whispered, before turning back to face him.

“Okay,” Morgan nodded, as he shut the car off and unlocked the doors.

As Morgan trailed after you, with Mason in his arms, you unlocked your front door before flipping on the lights. Slipping your shoes off, you took Mason from Morgan’s grasp to allow him to take his own shoes off as well.

Walking down your front hallway, you looked back at Morgan hopeful, and nodded, signalling for him to follow you. Hearing his footstep behind you, you walked carefully up the stairs, securely holding Mason tight against you. 

Making your way into Mason’s bedroom, you flicked on his light with your elbow and walked over to his day bed. Placing him down gently, you removed Mason’s shoes and took his jacket off. 

“Mace?” you murmured, nudging your son softly.

He groaned, before opening his blue eyes slightly. “Mommy?”

“Want to get dressed into your pajama’s?” you questioned, and he nodded.

Grabbing a pair of his flannel pj’s, you helped him swiftly get undressed and redressed again before he laid back down. Turning back, you saw Morgan leaning up against the door frame, while he watched the two of you.

“Baby, before you go to bed, can I tell you something?” you asked Mason. He cocked his head slightly in interest, and nodded.

Flicking your eyes back to Morgan, you ushered him in. Sitting down onto your knee’s next to Mason, you sighed, “You know how Sarah next door has both a Mommy and a Daddy?”

Mason nodded, while Morgan looked towards you. “And you know how it’s always just been me and you? Well, you also have a Daddy Mace,”

Mason sat up, looking very excited, “I do?”

You grinned with a nod, “you do Mason, and I’m sorry he wasn’t able to come any sooner, but your Daddy really wants to meet you. Would you want to meet him too?” you asked.

Mason nodded enthusiastically, “I do, I really want to meet him, I’m sure he’s super cool! Just like you Mommy!”

You looked beside you, and Morgan looked like he was close to tears. You smiled softly at the sight, and placed your hand gently onto Morgan’s shoulder in support, “Mason, Morgan is your Daddy,”

Mason blinked, looking shocked. But before you could become concerned, Mason grinned brightly towards the man knelt next to you. “You’re my Dad?”

Morgan smiled towards Mason, “I’m your Dad Mason, and I’m sorry I couldn’t get here any sooner but,”

Morgan was cut off when Mason all the sudden flung himself into Morgan’s arms, hugging him tightly. Morgan was taken a back for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around Mason, and placed his head down onto your little boys’ shoulder, embracing his son for the first time. 

You felt tears brim your eyes as you watched Mason being held by his father. It was a moment you’d only ever dreamed about, and now it had come true.

“I love you Daddy,” Mason spoke, as his small hands gripped Morgan’s dress shirt.

“I love you too Mason,” Morgan replied, without skipping a beat, “and I promise from now on, we’re going to be together, okay?”

Mason nodded into Morgan’s chest, accepting his declaration. Pulling away, Mason looked towards Morgan optimistically, “does that mean you’re going to stay here with us?”

Morgan flashed his eyes towards you, and you smiled sadly, “Your Dad plays hockey Mason, so he can’t stay for too long baby,”

“Oh,” Mason mumbled, looking down sadly.

“But, that doesn’t mean I can’t come visit, and when the season’s over, we can spend as much time as you want together,” Morgan told him, lifting his chin so he could look at him. “And whenever I’m here you get to come watch me play,”

“But I don’t want you to go,” Mason pouted, looking towards his father sadly.

Morgan frowned. “I don’t either bud, but I can’t help it. So, I need you to stay on your best behaviour for your Mom, okay? And you need to take care of her. I swear I’ll be back as soon as I can Mason, that’s a promise,”

Pursing his lips, Mason held out his hand, “Promise, promise?”

Morgan smirked before shaking his son’s hand, “I promise, promise, promise.”

Mason giggled before hugging his father again. “I can’t believe my Daddy is a super cool hockey player,” Mason whispered while looking towards you, and you chuckled.

“That he is,”

You looked up from your spot on the couch when you heard Morgan’s heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs. You had left Mason alone with his father to say goodnight.

“He finally crashed,” Morgan explained, as he entered the living room and you nodded, realizing it was well after one o'clock in the morning.

“Did you want some coffee or anything?” you offered, standing up from your spot.

“It’s okay, um I think I should probably head out, I’ve already broken team protocol,” Morgan said, as he reached back to scratch the back of his head.

“Right,” you nodded and stuffed your hands into your jean pockets. 

“Look, I uh,” Morgan muttered before stopping mid sentence.  He sighed, “can we grab brunch or something tomorrow? We have a game in Edmonton Sunday and we’re not flying out until tomorrow night. I’d like to talk more, about, well everything,”

“I’m sure Mason would like that,” you replied, leaning up against the couch’s arm.

Morgan smiled slightly, “I know he would, but I think I just need it to be me and you. I’m gonna sleep on it, but, I have lots of questions and zero answers as of right now, and I want to try and figure out what we’re going to do, because I wasn’t lying Y/N, I want to be involved and I want to be here with Mason and, and with you,”

“Eleven o'clock, at Mel’s diner?” You asked suddenly, and Morgan let out a sigh of relief. 

“I’ll be there,” he promised and you nodded, smiling softly.

“I know you will,”

Morgan’s lips curved upwards before he approached you. Staring into his eyes you felt something erupt from deep inside, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, I was just confused and hurt and,”

“Morgan, it’s fine,” you reassured, and he nodded.

Leading him out towards the front door, you watched as Morgan pulled his suit jacket back on and laced up his shoes. Before he gripped the front door handle, he turned and looked back towards you.

“Mason’s lucky to have you," 

You blinked, before smiling at the thought of your little boy, "No, I’m lucky to have him,”

Morgan smirked slightly, “well I’ll see you tomorrow,”

You nodded, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

You caught your breath however, when Morgan walked back towards you and pulled you into a soft embrace. Hesitating slightly, you slowly wound your arms around the father of your child and melted into his hug. And for the first time in a long time, everything seemed to be falling perfectly back into place.