#my dads family has never been close to me. this past month they did host 2 parties at my house that NO ONE TOLD ME ABT.so i get home and

[basura-official]

Ew

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[joyfulholland]

The Peace Treaty - Mob!Tom

....when your father orders you to make peace with Tom Holland, heir to the other crime family, you find working together is not as horrendous as you once thought.....

a/n: enemies to lovers with mob!Tom...this was a labour of love but I really like how this turned out and I hope you do too! i was largely inspired by all of my insanely talented friend Hannah’s (@duskholland​) mob!Tom writing, which is an absolute must read for anyone and everyone! please let me know what you think! this was nearly a smut but I changed my mind so if anyone would be interested in a part 2 please send me a message!

warnings: swearing, lots of mentions of violence, some mentions of blood/injuries

word count: 6.1k

All weddings have a little drama somewhere, but you thought having to throw a knife to stop the unwanted guest escaping was a tad excessive.

Luckily, the majority of the wedding party and guests were out in the gardens, so it was only a select few who had seen you interrupt the man’s swift exit. You smirked in triumph as he turned back to face you, his posture having slumped realising that not only was he cornered, but severely outnumbered. Smoothing out the cobalt silk that was your bridesmaid dress, you took one step forward, before pausing at the cough from the man beside you.

Tom wordlessly flipped the pistol he was holding so that you could easily take it from him. His actions caused you to raise an eyebrow, and he smirked as he revealed the second handgun tucked into his waistband.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to carry in that dress.” He grinned, eyes scanning your figure as you took the weapon from him. “Figured I better bring a spare so you wouldn’t have to miss out on the action.”

“Thank you.” You didn’t hide the surprise in your tone, still not used to his friendly attitude. Gesturing at the man still in the doorway, whose eyes were darting between you both, and the four other men behind you, you returned to the task at hand. “Shall we?”

“After you darling.”

~one week earlier~

“You can’t be serious Dad.”

Your father rolled his eyes from where he was seated across from you in front of the fire, the sound of laughter and music drifting under the door to his study from the party going on outside. Taking another sip of his whisky, he sighed at the incredulous look still plastered on your face.

“It’s time you made peace with him. I’m getting old, it’ll be your turn to run things soon, and we’d like to retire knowing the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats and throwing everything we built away. Besides, your sister’s wedding is almost here, and I want it to run smoothly.”

Sinking back into your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh before raising your own drink to your lips. Growing up as the eldest daughter of one of the two biggest crime families in London, you’d been raised preparing for the day it would be your turn to take on the “family business”, and you had relished in the prospect. The only issue you had taken to the entire affair, one which it seemed your father was now determined to resolve, was the heir to the other notorious family with whom you shared your work: Tom Holland.

One year older than you, the rivalry between you had started young. Both determined to prove you would one day be capable heads of your respective families, you’d attempted to one up each other at every opportunity available. Where he had excelled in marksmanship, your skill with a knife was incomparable to anyone else. When he began working for his father full time, you had begged your own to let you do the same, pleading that the fact he was older irrelevant. His specialty was smuggling, so you made disposal yours. The two of you even had a private scoreboard of times your activities had namelessly been displayed on the news, bragging that you were more successful at getting away with it than the other.

“Just shag him already.” Your younger sister, Isabelle, had groaned not a month before, as you’d finished regaling her with your recent triumph over him. “You’ve both been madly in love since you were about two years old.”

You’d almost spat your wine at her, the statement causing you off guard. Whilst it was no secret that Tom had suddenly become incredibly attractive over the course of a summer away when he was seventeen, you had made that fact irrelevant as your feelings towards him held nothing but contempt.

“I’m not in love with him.” Your words had come out as defiant, but it had only caused her to snort into her own drink. “Belle, he’s an arrogant, selfish arsehole who has done nothing but show as much hate towards me as I have to him since we were old enough to throw building blocks at each other.”

“I think you meant passion, not hate, but whatever.” She rolled her eyes, knowing when to drop a subject. “But it would be better for us all if you got along at least, and so help me God if the sexual tension between the two of you ruins my wedding I’ll murder you, heir to the firm or not.”

Which led you back to sitting across from your father, who had just informed you that he’d agreed with Tom’s father Dominic that the two of them were to hold ‘peace treaty’ talks between you.

“Did Belle put you up to this?” You asked suspiciously, eyes flashing to the door where you knew she would be holding court as the host of the wedding shower.

“She and your mother may have suggested it.”

“So she snitched to the both of you.”

“Actually, I think it was your mother’s idea first, she’s been speaking about it for a while.”

The smile on his face let you know you were defeated. It seemed they had all colluded together to force you into the ceasefire of your battle with Tom, and there was no way to escape it. Letting out another disgruntled sigh, you finished the remainder of your drink before rising from the chair.

“I assume he’s here.” The tone of your voice made your father let out a bark of laughter, and you knew you sounded like a child who had just been reprimanded. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Not waiting for an answer, you crossed the room and re-joined the party that your father had pulled you from, rearranging your face into a fake smile as you passed guests in various states of enjoyment on your way to the main reception area in your family estate. You’d barely stepped over the threshold of the doorway when his voice rang clearly above the music.

“Well, if it isn’t my new best friend.”

Turning to face him, you saw Tom push up from where he was leaning against the wall. Your eyes quickly scanned his body, noting the near-empty glass held loosely between two ring-clad fingers. His black suit jacket fitted him perfectly over a crisp white shirt, which had the top three buttons undone to reveal a thin gold chain around his neck. He was flanked on either side by his two most loyal friends, Harrison and Tuwaine, both of whom offered you a smile. Whilst the rivalry between yourself and Tom was strong, neither of you had ever taken any issue to those in both of your inner circles.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s had the play nice speech.” Skipping any greetings, you return the other men’s smiles before focusing on Tom. He gives a short chuckle at your words before raising his glass to his lips and finishing the remainder of his drink. “For the record, I have no intentions of becoming friends.”

“I’m wounded darling.” Tom’s still wearing an obnoxious smirk as a server comes to offer you a glass of champagne, taking away his empty glass in the process. “I thought we could make a a good team, make everyone even happier.”

“In your dreams, Holland.” You know he’s just baiting you, but with the prospect of at least a couple more hours of party ahead of you, your patience for him was limited. “We can be civil at events and make an effort in any deals. But that’s it. We are not, and never will be a team.”

Not giving him time to answer, you swiftly turned on your heels and entered further into the crowd of people celebrating your sister’s upcoming nuptials, determined not to let him ruin this night for you anymore, and not to think about him until the next time you saw him.

Which, it turned out, would be sooner than you had hoped.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The following morning, you had retreated back to your own apartment.

Having cited ‘business’ as your reason, you knew that your family had seen into your lie, and that you wanted to be able to sulk in peace. You’d promised, under threats of bodily harm, to return two days before the wedding, giving you a good four days to get your bad mood out of the way.

The alone time only lasted fifteen hours.

It was drawing close to two a.m. when the banging on your door disturbed you. You hadn’t fallen asleep yet, having been going over some files at your desk, but the loud beating had startled you, and was unexpected enough for you to grab your gun from your bottom draw before approaching the source. Checking the spy hole, a string of curses left your mouth as you unchained and unlocked the door.

Tom fell through the threshold, his brown curls dishevelled, and his knuckles bruised. A thin trail of blood trickled down the side of his face from a slash above his left eyebrow, and a dark patch pooling on his shoulder alluded to there being another injury beneath his shirt. Quickly shutting the door behind him and relocking it, you spun to glare at the man who was now propping himself up against the wall of your hall.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him, taking another survey of his injuries, and noting the yellowing skin under his eye that had a blue tinge. He had never been to your apartment before, but it didn’t shock you that he knew the address, especially as you knew his. Instead, you chose to ask the next most prominent question. “Have you been stabbed or shot?”

“I was close by, needed to tell you something.” He ignores your question, so you move past him to get to your bathroom, noting the wince he tried to hide as he moved to follow. Gingerly sitting on the edge of your bathtub, he watches as you grab a first aid kit from the cabinet under your sink. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you bleed.” You roll your eyes at him as you turn to face him, gesturing towards his shirt as a hint for him to remove it. He does so slowly, grimacing as he tries not to move his shoulder. You can’t help but take a sharp gasp when you see the gash running over the top of his skin, clear that a bullet had skimmed past him and not quite missed. Tom sends you a weak smile as you turn back to grab something to clean the wound. “What were you so desperate to tell me anyway? You could have just called.”

“Like you’d have answered.” Tom jokes as you step forward to begin patching him up, a hiss falling through his lips as you make contact with his injury. “You’ve made it clear that you only want to speak to me on a need-to-know basis, and this was urgent. That’s going to need stitches isn’t it? Just try and stem the bleeding until I get home, Haz is pretty decent at sewing me up.”

Your eyes flashed to meet his for a brief second before returning to his shoulder, nodding at his question. You couldn’t deny that you probably would have rejected his call and had nothing else to say to him in response. Grabbing some gauze, you start to tightly pad over the wound, waiting for him to continue.

“I ran into Jason.” His words promptly stop your actions, and your eyes connect again. Jason Boule was the son of another crime family, one whom which neither your father or Tom’s had gotten ever along with, and one who had been attempting to sabotage both of your businesses for years. “I think they’re trying to get someone into the wedding.”

“What did he say?” You ask, finishing with his shoulder before grabbing something to start cleaning up his face. “And what did you say to make him shoot at you?”

“Asked me to pass on congratulations to the happy couple, claimed he was disappointed he hadn’t received an invite, that he was sure it was going to be a day to remember.” Tom spoke the last few words with gritted teeth as you wiped over the cut along his face. “Then he…I may have said something about how vermin weren’t usually invited to weddings, which is about when he shot at me.”

“You missed something out in the middle.” You smirked as it was Tom’s turn to roll his eyes, having not missed the way he’d changed his mind mid-sentence, passing him an instant-cool pack from your kit. “Hold that on your eye.”

“Thanks.” He muttered, doing as you told him. You waited expectantly, and he groaned before carrying on. “He may have said some shit about you in the middle, which I may have punched him for, but that wasn’t important to the alluding to sending someone to the wedding point.”

“You punched him for bad-mouthing me?”

“Well, yeah. Just because I give you shit for not being as good as me, doesn’t give him any right to. Especially not what he said, which I won’t repeat for the fact it was disgusting.”

Eyes once again locked on his, you found yourself lost for words. Tom had tried to joke it off, but the idea of him defending you, in any situation, felt like a foreign concept. Dropping your gaze down, you sucked in a breath at the realisation of the intimate situation the two of you were in: you, standing between his legs as he sat, shirtless, with only centimetres separating the two of you. As you raised your eyes slowly back to his, you found Tom’s gaze still fixed firmly on your face. A moment passed, and for a brief second you found yourself leaning closer, until a loud buzzing signalled Tom’s phone ringing in his pocket. Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back, eyes returning to his and forcing your face to remain neutral as he glanced at his screen and sighed.

“You should get home, get your shoulder looked at properly.” Your words shattered the tension that had surrounded you both momentarily, and Tom coughed before nodding and reaching for his discarded shirt. “Thank you, Tom, for coming to tell me.”

“All part of the peace treaty.” His smile looked forced as he pulled his shirt back on and stood, passing you back the ice pack and making his way to leave your apartment. “You wanna tell your Dad-“

“No.” You cut him off quickly, running a hand through your hair as you think through the situation. “I… this wedding is important, and I don’t want him worrying. We can sort it right?”

“OK.” He nods, his usual smirk returning. “You’ll actually have to answer my calls though.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m sure I can manage.” You roll your eyes at him, and Tom chuckles with a nod before going to unlock your door. “I’ll speak to some of my guys in the morning.”

“And you said we couldn’t be a team.”

“Go home Holland.” You sigh, gently pushing him out of your apartment. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Counting down the hours darling.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days were filled with flurries of phone calls between yourself and Tom, some more pleasant than others. Almost all of the calls were logistical; how many people the two of you planned on telling, whether or not to station someone at the exits. In an attempt to remain focused, you tried to keep your tone formal and business like, not deviating from the matter at hand.

The problem was Tom had other plans.

You’d be halfway through discussing exit routes when he’d suddenly ask your opinion on his suit for the wedding, or you’d be texting him floor plans and he would send back a picture of options for his shoes. And then of course, once or twice, the two of you would disagree about something and end up fighting, with one of you hanging up on the other before calling back almost immediately because it really wasn’t an issue you had time to ignore. Trying to balance getting along after so many years of competition, in addition to doing everything you could to ignore the moment that had transpired between you the night in your bathroom, as well as calls from your sister about last minute wedding worries was giving you a permanent migraine.

The day before the wedding, he called you just as you were finishing dinner with your family.

“Now’s really not the time.” You murmured, skipping any formal greeting as you stepped into the empty hallway. “I’ve just-“

“Come outside.” He cut you off, tone matching yours. “Got something you’ll wanna see.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, the line cut off, leaving you no choice but to follow his orders. Stepping into the snug, where everyone had retired to after finishing, you flashed an apologetic smile.

“I’ve just got to step out for a bit.” You told them, earning an eye roll from your mother and a curious look from your father. You shook your head slightly, reassuring him not to worry. “Won’t be too long.”

“If you’re not back when I go to bed I will kill you.” Isabelle sighed, head tilting back over the sofa from where she was seated in front of you. “Promise me you’ll stop and say good night.”

“Promise.” You mutter, dipping forward to kiss her forehead before retreating from the room. Hurrying down the hallway, you slipped out of the large front doors to see the outline of Tom leaning against his car, parked close to the doors of your garage. Crossing the gravel, the cool evening breeze made you shiver as you walked the dark to meet him, the hem of your dress grazing against your thighs. Getting close enough to make out his features, you called out to him. “Roddy let you in the gate?”

“Told him I had a meeting with you, he let me in no questions asked.” He hummed; body still angled from where he was leaning on the hood of his jaguar. “Figured you must have told him something.”

“Warned him we could have an unexpected visitor tomorrow so to not question you if you turned up.” You affirmed, crossing your arms around you in an attempt to keep warm. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

Tom’s eyes dropped to your arms and smirked, before pushing off his car and opening the door, tilting his head at it as a signal to get in. You did so wordlessly, sighing in content as he shut the door behind you and the heat of his car engulfed you. The car smelled more like Tom’s aftershave than any air freshener, which only strengthened when Tom had slipped into the driver’s seat moments later. As he reached across you to open the glove box, you held your breath as his arm, exposed from where he’d rolled up his sleeves, grazed your body, mind still determined to rid yourself of any minor attraction to him. Tom pulled out a large envelope, fingers brushing yours as he gave it to you before settling back into his own seat. Sliding out the contents, you found printed emails containing directions to your father’s study, as well as photographs of your family estate, and the name of a company which you were in the middle of a business deal with.

“May or may not have hacked into Boule’s emails.” Tom explained before you could ask, your eyes lifting from the papers in front of you to meet his. “I know we didn’t agree on that, but Paddy is becoming one hell of a whiz kid at it, so asked him to see if he could find anything.”

Smiling at the mention of Tom’s youngest brother, you returned your attention to the documents, speed reading through them as Tom waited for you to reply. Noticing the names on the email addresses, your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You aren’t kidding about Paddy.” The surprise in your tone made Tom chuckle, and you lifted your gaze back to him. “These were coded, weren’t they?”

“Told you, kids got skills. Think we’re pretty lucky he’s already one of the family, or we’d all be fighting over him.”

“Well at least now we know what Jason’s coming after.”

“And that he’s only sending one guy. We’ll barely have anything to do.”

You chuckled softly at his words, leaning back against the chair and letting your gaze wander over the darkened landscape of your estate. You could only just make out the large marquee that had been erected for the wedding, most of it obscured by the dark as well as part of the house.

“Think we could have always worked together like this?” Tom’s words startle you, and you tilt your head to the side to find him mirroring your position. “You know, if you could have just admitted I was better when we were kids, then it would have been fine.”

You let out a short laugh, watching his lips pull into a grin at the sound. Seeing how smug he was, an idea flashed into your head. Before Tom could realise what was happening, you pushed yourself off your chair and swung your legs to straddle over his, pulling the small knife you had tucked into your belt free to press loosely against his neck.

“What was that about being better than me?” You asked, grinning as his expression changed from one of shock to frustration, his eyes rolling as he raised one hand to push gently at your hip. “You’re getting slow, Holland.”

“Doesn’t count.” He protested, eyes following your hand as you flipped the small blade back into the safety of its holder. “You’ve pulled bigger knives on me than that. Anyway, that wasn’t fair, I’m unarmed.”

“So I wouldn’t find your gun in the armrest box beside us?” You tease, settling back on Tom’s thighs and opening up the compartment to prove your point. “Oh, look, I was right.”

“You’re acting like you know more about me than I do you, but I’m well aware that you have another knife strapped on you, so this works both ways.”

“How do you know I have two?”

“Because you’ve been carrying two knives since you were seventeen after that job we had to do together that almost went wrong, and you only had one.”

“You remember that?”

“Course I do, you stole my car keys and refused to let me drive myself home.”

“Because you’d been shot.”

“I was barely bleeding.”

“That’s because the bullet was still stuck in your ribcage. Just because I hated you didn’t mean I wanted you to die. Besides, I was right. You passed out barely five minutes later.”

“You hated me?”

“Back then? Immensely.”

“And now?”

You hadn’t realised that you’d been getting closer to him, but as Tom asked his question, you felt his breath fan across your face. He’d sat up straighter, his hands sliding up to sit on your waist, whilst yours sat at the base of his chest, your eyes level and lips centimetres apart. Up close, you could see the mark left behind above his eyebrow from the fight a few nights prior, and the yellow tint below his eye where his bruising hadn’t fully healed. Tom’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he waited for you to answer, his thumbs dragging slow circles against your sides.

“Maybe a little less.”

You were sure your words had been inaudible, but Tom somehow seemed to hear them, and he smiled before lifting one of his hands to cup your neck and bring your head forward to close the gap between you. His lips brushed over yours tentatively as your eyes fluttered closed, both of you still hesitant in this unchartered territory. As his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, you emitted a soft sigh, hands tightening around the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer.

Doing so changed the mood from hesitation to excitement, and Tom tightened the grip on your neck as the kiss deepened. His other hand, which had still been sitting on your waist, slowly moved down and dipped below your dress until it was holding the back of your thigh. Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, Tom used his hold on your head to angle it, his lips trailing steadily along your jaw.

“If you leave any marks I’ll stab you.” Your threat was undermined by the moan that immediately followed it, as Tom found the spot by your ear, and you felt him grin against your skin before he pressed a final kiss to you and pulled back to meet your gaze. “I mean it, I’m not walking down the aisle behind my sister covered in hickies. It’ll be your funeral instead.”

“I love it when you threaten to kill me.” He smirks, darting forward to capture your lips once more. Pushing him lightly, he groaned as he fell back against his chair, the hand on your neck falling to his side. “Alright, alright. You don’t need to worry darling, because as much as I want to, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in my car.”

“The first time?” You push back from him, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. Tom simply hummed at your question, the hand on your neck dropping to grab both of yours. You waited for him to respond, only growing annoyed as he did nothing but smirk at you. Losing your patience with him, you wrench your hands free to lean across and open the car door. “You’re so infuriating, that’s why we never worked as a team. Your ego.”

“Definitely nothing to do with your temper either.” You weren’t looking at his face as you climbed out of the car, but you could practically hear him roll his eyes. Smoothing out your dress as the cool, evening breeze engulfed you once more, you turned to head back to the house, before he called out behind you. “You’re welcome, by the way. For the information.”

“Thanks!” You shout back, not turning your head as you continue back to the house. Tom’s laugh carries across the driveway, followed by the sound of his car door closing. Reaching the front door, you look back as you step back inside, watching as his engine purred to life before gliding back towards the gates. Quietly closing the door, you begin making your way to your room, noticing that most of your family had already made their way to bed. Stopping at the door before yours, you knock softly before hearing a muffled come in, cracking open the door to smile at your sister. “Just wanted to know if I’m being killed or not?”

“I’ll let you off.” Isabelle rolled her eyes from where she was laying in her bed but grinned back as you leant against the door frame. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“You’d tell me if there was something, right?”

“Absolutely.” You lied, pushing off the wall to cross the room and press a kiss to her cheek. “Now get some beauty sleep, or Adam won’t want to marry you.”

“Like you’d let him back out.” Belle joked, referring to how her husband-to-be worked for the family business. “Love you.”

“Love you.” You hummed back, before leaving the room and entering your own. Flipping on the light, you sighed before preparing for bed, thinking of what was to come in the next twenty-four hours.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“After you darling.”

Your eyes returned to the intruder cornered by the door, thinking over how you’d ended up here. The wedding itself had gone without a hitch; your sister and her now husband had exchanged rings and vows in front of everyone without any noticeable hiccups. You’d spotted Tom as you’d led the bridesmaids down the aisle and had determinedly kept your gaze away from him throughout the ceremony, only exchanging a curt nod as you’d left to take part in the official photo’s, trusting him to keep an eye. It was the only contact you’d had with him until you spotted what you’d been waiting all day to see, Freddie, one of your men, signalling you from across the reception party. Politely excusing yourself from the conversation you were in, you had wordlessly tapped Tom’s arm on your way back to your family house, hearing him do the same before following with Harrison and Tuwaine behind him. With the advanced knowledge you had gained from Paddy’s hacking abilities, the two of you, each flanked by two of your men, had found and cornered the intruder before he’d made it farther than the entry hall.

“I know Boule sent you, and why he sent you, and given the occasion, I don’t have time or patience to waste on your excuses.” You sighed, stopping in front as Freddie and Ralph moved to stand either side of him. Toying with the gun you now held, you watched as his eyes darted between the weapon and your face. “So you’re going to swiftly leave, and run and tell him nice try, but maybe next time. Because if you try anything else, the next knife I throw won’t miss.”

He hadn’t got a chance to respond before Freddie and Ralph had taken him by both arms, nodding at you before escorting him out of the building. You watched them go, as Tom followed suit. For a second, you thought he was leaving too, before he stopped to retrieve the knife you had thrown earlier, still lodged in the door. Wordlessly returning to you, he held the blade out for you to take, and you offered him a tight smile as you swapped it for the gun he had offered you earlier.

“Not that you need it,” Tom joked as you returned the knife to the strap on your inner thigh. Your eyes found his in surprise, watching as he replaced both of the guns he now held in his waistband. “What with you having two and all.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, before spinning on your heel to face his two friends. “We should get back.”

“She can’t possibly have two knives on her?” Harrison hissed to Tom, the three men a few paces behind you as you made your way back to the garden.

“Oh, trust me, she can.”

“Where?”

Smiling to yourself as the fresh air engulfed you once more, you re-entered the marquee to see no change to the scene from when you had left it: some people dancing, some milling around speaking and laughing, others still finishing their food at various tables. Eyes scanning the guests around you, they landed on the bride herself striding across the room determinedly in your direction.

“You lied to me.” She accused, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you to the dancefloor. Isabelle released her grip on you as the music changed to a slower song, wrapping instead wrapping them around you to sway slowly to the music. “You said that everything was fine, and then you sneak off to stop one of Boule’s men breaking into Dad’s study.”

“How the hell did you find out?” The smile was still on your face as the two of you spun in a small circle, mainly because despite her tone, she was still beaming herself. “I didn’t even tell Dad.”

“Roddy told me.” Her tone was smug as her eyes wandered from your face to look around the tent. “After I watched you leave that is. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own sister leave my wedding?”

“Well, I hoped the wedding thing might cause some distraction.”

“Fat chance.” She snorted, eyes returning to yours. “I’ve got a particular skill set that comes in handy. Don’t think I didn’t see Tom follow.”

“He was the one who found out about it originally.” Your tone changed as you thought over what had transpired between you. “You know he brought an extra gun because he knew I wouldn’t be able to have on today?”

“The fact that it surprises you is hilarious.” She laughs, stepping back from you and unwrapping her arms, only to link her fingers through yours instead. “You know that he’s-“

“Don’t say it.”

“Fine. I’ll let him tell you.”

“What-“

“Mind if I cut in?” You whipped your head to find Tom behind you, watching as he sent a winning smile to your sister. “Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks Tom, she’s all yours.” Belle grinned back, pulling you in to kiss your cheek, before muttering in your ear, “You’ll thank me eventually.”

Releasing you completely, you watched as she passed Tom with another smile, walking straight into her new husband’s outstretched arms. Your gaze returned to the man in front of you, watching cautiously as he held out his hand.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, seeing your hesitation. “Think about how happy our father’s will be to see their peace treaty working.”

Rolling your eyes, you placed your hand in his and allow him to pull you closer, your other hand rising up to rest on his shoulder.

“You stormed away last night before I could explain myself.” His voice was low in your ear as he began to move the two of you in time with the music. “Never have been a fan of letting me have the last word.”

“If this is an apology it sucks so far.” You reply, your tone light as you try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on your waist.

“I’m not going to apologise, it wasn’t the right moment.”

“You said that like you’ve been planning it.”

“Only every day since you stole my car keys.”

“Now I know you’re taking the piss.”

Pulling back to meet his gaze, you found nothing but sincerity as he took a breath to explain.

“You got the money we went there for whilst simultaneously holding three men twice your size at gunpoint, and then got us both out of there despite the fact I’d been shot. Then you took my keys and yelled at me whilst taking me home until I passed out.” The look on his face now was nothing like you had ever seen, his eyes searching yours as he continued. “Darling, as much as I really do enjoy the way you look when you’re mad at me, the main reason I’ve been antagonising you more and more the past few years was so I actually have a chance to spend time with you. Now if I’m making a complete twat of myself, say the word and we can continue the way we are and forget I ever said a word of this.”

“Tom-“

“You know you only ever call me that when I’ve been shot.” He mutters, a hint of his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Should I be worried?”

“You know I was already reluctant to admit that I might feel the same way, and now I’m going to take it back...”

Your words died on your lips as he silenced you with his own, dropping your hand to cradle your face as he kissed you softly. You could feel him grinning against you before he pulled back, thumb dragging softly against the skin of your cheek.

“This doesn’t mean I’m going easy on you now, you know.” You mutter, unable to stop your own smile taking over. “I mean, if you think that just because we’re together I’d start letting you-”

“Letting me?” Tom’s bark of laughter inspired your smile to grow even more, the incredulous look in his eyes quickly morphing into his trademark smirk. “I’m sorry, who was it who discovered Boule’s plans for today?”

“Only because you got into a fight over me. Admit it Holland, I’m your weakness. It’s not my fault you’re so in awe of my talents.”

“If I kiss you again, will you stop being so competitive?”

“Depends, maybe you should it try and find out.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

did you like it? did you hate it? let me know either way as well as anything else you want to see me write!

tagging some lovely people: @gonzalezyon @nowayhomeparker @sinisterspidey​ 

[strawberrylemonz]

Be Okay

Part 8

Part 9 [CURRENT]

Part 10

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin

Enjoy!

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

The kids were fast asleep in their room, all drained of their energy reserves from playing so much with each other. In the living area, Fundy sat on the couch, staring out the window. The sound of a throat clearing brought him back to reality. Turning to his side, he saw Tommy hold out a cup of tea to him, his own cup of tea in his other hand. Accepting the drink with a nod, Fundy took small sips as he enjoyed the calming sensation in the room. He shifted over on the couch, allowing space for Tommy to settle down. The two sat in a comfortable silence, one that Fundy was nervous to break. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Tommy”

He willed himself to look over at his uncle, not sure what to expect. He still remembered his uncle as a brash, loud, spirited teenage boy, so it was strange to see him the way he was an adult. Sill startled with how calm the boy could be, Fundy watched as Tommy, eyes closed, simply nodded as he took a sip of his tea. Letting out a sigh, Tommy opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling with a warm look in his eyes.

“I’m also glad that I’m not dead” 

The two sat in silence once more, their teas running low. After looking around the room, Fundy spoke up once more.

“Did you actually build your house? I remember that you always hated building.”

The low chuckle of his uncle made him squirm. It wasn’t that he was scared or uncomfortable with it, it was just that it had been so long. When was the last time Fundy just sat down, warm drink in hand, just to stay up and talk to Tommy? His mind immediately went back to the days of his childhood, before the wars forced his mind to shift his body into an older state. He remembered how Tommy would rush to his room, no matter how old Fundy was, just to calm him and keep him from waking a very tired, lonely Wilbur. He remembered how Tommy would carry him into the kitchen, letting him sit on the counter as long as Wilbur never found out he did so. He would watch as his uncle made two cups of hot cocoa, and took Fundy back to his room. The two would sit in silence, listening to Tommy’s discs, until Fundy would fall asleep. Sometimes, if Fundy had a very bad nightmare, they would stay up and talk the night away. Until this very moment, Fundy didn’t realize how much he missed times like this. Smiling down at his tea, he listened as Tommy spoke up. 

“Yeah, I built this house. Did it myself, too. It was the first official build, aside from my bench in the market, on this server. Everyone else was so focused on teaching me how to properly build and work with all sorts of materials, so I eventually made them proud by creating this. I’ve noticed that it’s been slowly growing as the days go by. It’s quite comforting, really.”

“And this adventure park you’ve been advertising? When will it be done? Who helped?”

“Innit an Adventure? Built that all by myself, no help at all. It’s already done being built, I just pushed opening day back a few months so the server can properly prepare to hosts the guests.”

Fundy nodded as he hummed in acknowledgment, a habit he had picked up from Tommy when he was much younger. No longer afraid of the possibility of being thrown out by his uncle, Fundy continued the conversation. 

“So Tubbo and the girls are doing good? Tubbo just vanished the same day you did, and Drista stopped visiting after a while.”

“They’re doing perfectly fine, actually. They all live in Stampy’s Lovely World. It’s a nice server, I’m glad that they ended up there. Hey, Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how’s the server?”

Tommy watched as his nephew deflated, a shaky sigh leaving him. Not wanting to push the boy past his limits, Tommy was quick to speak up once again.

“You don’t have to answer me right now, I understand needed to wait before discussing certain things.”

“No, you deserve to know the situation. It’s, well, it’s complicated? So much has happened since you and Tubbo left the server. I’m not even completely sure as to what’s all happening because went into hiding. I do know that Philza and Technoblade have gone around, destroying anything that they identified as a government. Dream went off the rails searching for the two of you, and he’s threatened and punished anyone he though was hiding you guys from him. We received some new players in the server. They’ve helped settle down some of the threats. Oh, remember that weird red stuff that was spreading?”

“Yeah, what was that shit, anyways?”

“Apparently it sprouted from that egg, you know, from that weird egg propaganda? It started possessing and corrupting the members of the Badlands. From what I’ve heard, it’s been temporarily contained and the possessed members have returned to their normal state, but who knows how long that will last. When I left, the containment seemed so unstable. Oh, there is the thing with Wilbur.”

“What about Wilbur?”

“The last time I stumbled upon Philza, he was trying to resurrect him. I don’t know if they succeeded, though. Quite frankly, I’m not sure if I want to know.”

He felt like a jerk telling his uncle, the brother of his dad, that he wasn’t even sure that he wanted his dad to be alive. He didn’t even bring himself to explain his reasons for it, how he was scared whether or not his dad would be the dad he used to have, or the one that was barely recognizable. His negative thoughts, however, melted away as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over at his uncle, he didn’t expect to see the understanding grin that danced on Tommy’s lips. He didn’t expect to hear the broken, wavering voice of Tommy.

“I know.”

Fundy stiffened as Tommy put an arm around his nephew, pulling him in for a side hug. After moments of hesitation, Fundy eventually relaxed in the embrace. It had been so long since Fundy has felt such affection by family that wasn’t his son. He sucked in a breathe as he tried to not let out the sob that was bubbling up inside him. Once he heard Tommy’s voice, however, he allowed tears to escape. It was okay, though, because he knew Tommy was letting his own tears out as well. And as Tommy put a hand on Fundy’s head, lightly scratching his comfort spot between his ears, Fundy couldn’t stop the half sigh, half sob that escaped his lips. And as soon as Tommy spoke up again, he let out all the hurt he kept cooped up out, in the form of messy sobs. 

“It’s okay, Fundy, you can let it out now. You’re free now. You’ll be okay.”

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

Fundy felt relieved that he didn’t have to be on guard all hours of both day and night. He was grateful that Tommy let him sleep in that morning, assuring him that he would handle the kids’ breakfast. Yawning as he stretched out his limbs, waking himself up, he smiled as he looked around the guest room that would be converted to his own. Don’t get him wrong, Fundy adored Theo, but it was nice to be able to wake up without fear or stress regarding his son’s health and safety. When he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile as the kids helped Tommy with breakfast. As Tommy set down the hot cakes on plates, the kids fought over the fruit and syrup to decorate them. And as Theo laughed aloud, smiling brightly, Fundy realized that he didn’t regret a thing regarding his son. 

“Papa! Look! Clem and I made this one to look like you!”

Fundy laughed as he walked over to the kids, saying a quick greeting to his uncle. Accepting the plate from the two children, he smiled down at the beaming faces in front of them. Watching as the two settled themselves on the counter, he took turns ruffling their hair with his free hand. 

“Look at you two! Wonderful artists! Good job! Thank you!”

Delighted with the praises, Clem squealed as she clapped her hands, hopping up and down as she sat on her side of the counter. Theo laughed as he joined in on the clapping, equally as delighted as his younger cousin. Fundy just laughed as he helped Tommy carry the plates to the table, the children waddling behind once they were released from their tall prisons. Sitting Theo down beside Clementine, Fundy watched as Tommy poured drinks for everyone. And as they all sat down to enjoy breakfast as a family, Fundy knew that Tommy was right.

He would be okay.

[nctsjiho]

Heart-to-Heart

warnings: mentions of the pandemic and about mental health, but we don’t go deep into the topic (I hope you are pulling through loves🤍💚🤍 Stay healthy!)

❀  JiHo opens up about her past and how she’s currently feeling

JiHo waits a few seconds for the comments to roll in to make sure she’s live before bringing her hand up and waving at the camera. She looks a lot more tired than normal, but that could be because it was currently 3 in the morning.

It looks like she’s sitting on a couch or maybe even her bed with her knees close to her sweater clad chest. The hood of the sweater hiding her hair and ears with the strings tied tightly at the neckline.

“Why are you awake this early?” She hums after reading the question. A smile starting to form on her lips before she answers. “I’ve been up all night playing games with Haechan, Chenle and Jeno.” She chuckles.

“Everyone. My hair has become so long.” JiHo starts to undo the strings of her hoodie and uncovers her head. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, which she also undoes to show her hair longer than it had ever been (during her time in NCT at least). The strands of hair fall to her chest and she cards her hands trough it. “I would usually cut it by now, but I’m too lazy to go to the salon.” She sheepishly grins. “And I’m actually starting to like it a little, what do you guys think?”

It’s been a while since the fans had seen JiHo’s hair like this. Messy with her natural curls much more visible. “I love your hair unnie!” JiHo laughs at the comment before thanking the fan. “I like your short hair, but the long hair is also really pretty.”

“Did you celebrate Ten’s birthday?” She reads out. “There’s a lot of birthdays in February so I tried to do something for every birthday boy. I’ve already wished Ten a happy birthday and gave him his gift, but this year I could only really celebrate with the boys who I live with.” She nods to herself, hoping the fans would understand.

While reading comments on her phone a creaking noise could be heard, JiHo’s gaze moving to her side. “Is there something?” She asks, followed by footsteps that become gradually louder. “I saw the light from the hallway so I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall asleep with the lights on.” It was Taeyong’s voice. The girl nods and then looks at the screen in front of her. Taeyong moves into frame while asking if she was live on V App. “Yes, I was playing with the dreamies earlier and then wanted to go live for a little.” She explains and the leader hums in reply. “Don’t stay up too late okay? Bye everyone.” Taeyong leaves, but not before patting JiHo on the shoulder, somewhat using the girl’s shoulder as leverage to help him stand up.

“How are you today?” An English comment catches JiHo’s eye and she reads it out loud. A deep sigh leaves her lips and she looks back into the camera. “It’s not that I’m feeling bad, I’m just really tired lately. I got sick before our gimme gimme comeback because I was so exhausted. But don’t worry I’m better now. I just think the situation we’re in right now with the pandemic is taking a toll on my body and mental health. Luckily I have NCT with me and they all try to help each other feel better.” A genuine smile covers the slight frown she sported while talking. “I’m not an expert and I’m pretty bad at giving advice, but if you’re feeling down please reach out to someone. They might not be able to help much either, but just talking about how you feel is so much better than keeping everything to yourself. I also hope that NCT can be a light in your day whenever you feel down. We still have a lot of content going out on YouTube and our music is always there for you to listen to.”

The live stream had really taken a turn. With JiHo reading out a lot of comments and sympathising with the fans, every now and than trying to lighten the mood by cracking a dumb joke. The jokes were never funny, but JiHo was slowly getting sleep-drunk and everything started to seem funny to her. Despite that she couldn’t change the overall mood of the V Live, with comments still as sombre as before.

“I live with my roommates but I still feel lonely, sometimes I just miss my family.” As she reads the comment, something in JiHo’s eyes changes. Her soft expression falls into almost a frown, the word ‘family’ coming out as only a whisper. It’s quiet for the next minute or so, the fans clearly picking up on something as comments flood in about her family or asking if everything was alright.

It’s clear that the girl is trying to hide her true feelings as she forces a smile back on her face.”Don’t worry everyone, I’m fine.” She laughs softly. “I’ve never talked about my family right?” JiHo can’t even keep her eyes on the camera. “I don’t really talk to them a lot.” She realises how people could misinterpret the meaning behind those words and shoots up in her seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on bad terms with my family. I’m just not really close to them either.”

“I moved to Korea on my own when I was almost 14, I spent that birthday here with some of the trainees I used to live with.” She smiles at the fond memory and the fans in the comments seem to be more at ease after seeing her smile so genuinely. “Before that I used to live with my grandparents for most of my life. So I’m closest to them, and I call them at least once a month. It used to be a lot more but now I usually just message them.”

“I have a lot of friends in France though and we video chat a lot.” She laughs and tells a story about a late night video call session where they played Jack Box together. “I do miss them a lot, so I hope I get to see them in real life after the pandemic is over.”

“What about your parents? My parents? It’s a bit complicated.” She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I lived with them for 4 years before my mother got really sick. She needed special treatment, and my dad got a big job opportunity. The moved together because she’d be closer to a hospital where they could help her even better. That’s when i moved in with my grandparents and I could stay close to my friends and the rest of my family.”

“When I was 11, my mother was healthy again and so we all moved back in together close to my grandparent’s home. It was a little awkward at first.” JiHo brings her hand up to scratch her scalp, her head drooping down for a second. “I only lived with them for 2 more years before I got scouted, so we didn’t get really close again. But they were always so supportive of me, so they still feel like my real parents.”

“They even host parties every now and then to celebrate new albums or milestones NCT achieves, and then they’ll send me pictures and tell me that they are proud of me.” The fans who were all listening intently had resorted to spamming the comments with hearts and an occasional ‘aww’. “I sometimes think that if I didn’t get scouted I’d be really close to my parents now and I’d have such an amazing childhood. Not that I haven’t had a great childhood already.”

That last comment had just left her mouth without much thought and people started to fill the comments with questions again. “Don’t say that, otherwise NCT wouldn’t have you in it” JiHo laughs before explaining herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I think getting scouted is the best thing that ever happened to me. NCT and Czennie are like my second family. Please forgive me.” She brings her palms together in front of her face and bows, a bright smile clearly visible. JiHo then moves her hands away from each other before twisting her fingers into 2 finger-hearts. “I love you guys.”

Though she didn’t tell the fans everything about her past and her life in France was still a big mystery, everyone seemed pleased to know more about their neo girl. JiHo, herself, even felt a bit relieved like she lifted a big weight off her shoulders by telling her about her past and how she was feeling.

She knew now that she could trust her fans with a few more personal things. What she didn’t know though, was that her roommates had also been watching her live stream and just as she was about to end the stream on a high note, 4 boys barge in her room, with the tallest and the youngest of the four launching themselves on the girl.

“Ack-” She shrieks, surprised by the sudden appearance of her roommates. “What’s going on?” “Hmm, I’m so proud of you!” Haechan had JiHo’s shoulders locked in his arms and he was squeezing her tightly. “We’re all proud of you.” Doyoung had said from behind the camera.

The girl rests her head against Johnny’s chest, acting as if she was trying to get as far as possible from her same-aged-friend who was still holding on to her. “Okay! Okay! I think we’re good now. You guys can leave.” JiHo shoos the boys away and Johnny takes the hint, ruffling the girls hair before leaving with the 2 men who weren’t trying to suffocate the youngest. “Haechan~” She whines and the boy mutters something about letting him do his thing a little longer.

She had managed to wedge her hand out his hold and started to push him by his chest and head. When she realised he wasn’t budging she just gave up, her body going limp and now she was almost leaning into his embrace. “Czennie, see what I have to live with. He only hugs me on camera, otherwise he’s only bullying me.” Haechan gasps letting the girl go. “The audacity! JiHo is a liar.” He places his hands on his chest where his heart would be and feigns being hurt. He gets a shake of JiHo’s head in response before she ends her stream by telling the fans that they should take care of themselves and their loved ones.

[halfway-happyyy]

She’s My Kind Of Girl

AN: this started as an idea of the lovely @bskarsgardlove92‘s and i kind of just rolled with it! i hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated! 

synopsis: Alex dresses in drag to attend a costume party with his girl, as one half of Swedish superband, ABBA! Absolute fluff ensues!

“Though you may hail from a long and distinguished line of inexplicably talented thespians, I know you well enough by now to recognize when you're not telling me something.”

Alexander passed a serviette over the front of his mouth and swallowed back a bite of salmon, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

She sipped deeply from her glass of chilled wine, and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “Don’t play coy with me, Alex. You were on the line with Eija when I came into the kitchen. That glint in your eyes says so much and then nothing at all in equal measure.”

“One could almost say that you know me too well, kid.”

"Almost," She grinned around the delicate rim of her glass. “Now spill it, Skarsgård.”

Alexander leaned back against the oak chair, dangling a long arm over the back of it. “Dad’s seventieth birthday is next month. Eija’s hosting a party back home for him, and she wants us to be there.”

She thought fondly of Alexander’s father often; he had been one of the first faces of his family that she’d had the privilege of meeting when her and Alexander had started taking things a little more seriously. Where her own father figure had been virtually non-existent most of the time, she was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law in Stellan. He was such an integral part of their lives that the thought of not returning home to Sweden to celebrate him was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll look into flights tomorrow morning. What kind of get together is it? I would imagine knowing Eija as I do, that she's got something wonderful up her sleeve?”

Alexander's lips curved up into a devilish smirk and he cocked his head to the side.

“She's hosting a costume party.”

There it was…

“God, I can only imagine the ideas that beautiful mind of yours has already dreamed up.”

Alexander tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth, his blue eyes glittering mischievously in the low light from the dining room lamp. “Hm, you know how much dad loves ABBA…”

It was the precise tone of his voice that she reckoned prepared her for what was coming next. “Oh boy,” She giggled under her breath.

“Well, I propose that we go as Björn and Agnetha.”

She mulled the thought of it over in her head, and then an idea swam into her mind's eye that caused a smirk similar to her other half's to tug the edges of her lips skyward. “I'll do it on one condition, my love.”

His eyebrow lifted in intrigue. “I'm all ears.”

“I will do it if I can be the Björn to your Agnetha.”

His laughter- utterly loud and booming, filled every square space of their home with a warm and joyous sound. When it subsided, he leveled his gaze with hers and she noticed immediately, the blush that had risen to the apples his cheeks. After a moment, he nodded his head finitely. “You've got yourself a deal, kid.”

*

She glanced at the watch face beneath the bell sleeve of her silver, sequined blouse, and sighed heavily. “C'mon dancing queen, we haven’t got all night…” Alexander emerged from the bathroom door a moment later, a blonde, perfectly styled wig fell below the cups of a filled-out bra.

“I must say,” He reached toward her to tousle the brunette wig atop of her head, a smirk in place on his features. “Silver and forest green sequins do wonders for you, kid. Or should I say- Björn.”

“Oh hush,” She giggled. “I can hardly imagine the outfit you’ve conjured up for this evening." They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before she gestured to her vanity. "Shall I do your makeup?”

Alexander shifted from foot to foot. “If you wouldn't mind,” He murmured.

She stood on tiptoes to twirl strands of blonde hair around her finger. “It would be an honour, Agnetha.”

She followed Alexander to the vanity next to their bay window and turned on the lamp so that it illuminated his face perfectly. Pulling up a photo of Agnetha on her phone for reference, she set to work. “She sometimes likes to wear bold colours on her eyes, so that’s the look we’re going for this evening.” She started the process by moisturizing and priming his face, opting out of a foundation, and using a tinted moisturizer instead. “Alright, close your eyes for me, my love.” He did as he was told, and she allowed herself a moment to admire how breathtaking he truly was. After a couple of seconds of searching, she found a palette that was made up of different shades of purple and applied a muted lavender hue over both of his lids. Wanting to go a little darker, she blended a violet shade into his creases and stood back to admire her handiwork. Nearly done, she decided to go dramatic on the eyeliner, but when she reached for her favourite tube of mascara, Alexander faltered.

“I don’t need… falsies?”

She blanched. “Alex, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but your natural eyelashes are beautiful,” She took his face in her hands and gently turned it to the side, gesturing to his left eye. “Look how long and healthy they are. I think I have some cheap lashes lying around somewhere if you really want them, but I think a few coats of mascara will do wonderfully.”

He reached up to press his lips to the underside of her jaw, shaking his head. “No, I trust you.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and got back to work. “You’ve done magnificent so far. I’m just about finished…” She glanced around for her mauve pink lipstick, held a hand beneath his chin and applied the colour to his lips. “Alright, rub your lips together for me please.” She watched him do as she asked. “Now pat them together, as if you were smacking them.” She waited. “Alright, for the finishing touch,” She reached for her bottle of setting spray, told him to close his eyes, and let the mist settle over his face. “You my love, are finished and ready for the evening.

He leaned forward to inspect her handiwork closely, and a large smile grew on his face. “You’ve done a wonderful job, kid.”

She nodded towards the washroom door. “Go on then, Chiquitita. The party awaits.”

“You and your ABBA puns, huh?” Alexander smirked, before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just wait until your brothers get a hold of us.” She snickered. While she waited for Alexander to wrap up, she began lacing up the white platform boots she had found weeks ago. They added an extra four inches to her height, and she fought back a giggle as she sipped the last remnants of her pre-game cocktail.

Ten minutes elapsed, and she began to feel the familiar tug of inebriation deep in her belly. Suddenly, Alexander cleared his throat. “I’m coming out. Are you ready?”

“I’ve literally never been more ready in my life.” She deadpanned.

Alexander emerged from the washroom, and all she could do was gape at his figure as he stood poised in the doorway. Lord knows where, but he had managed to find a hot pink jumpsuit with a silver-sequined trim around the neckline and a heart-shaped cutout that showed off his adorable, trim bellybutton perfectly. He donned glossy, white boots on his feet that only added to his seemingly immense height. “Well, what do you think?” He asked, dubiously.

She swallowed hard. “I have lots of feelings about it actually… but our car is here, and your father awaits.” She held her arm out for him to take. “Shall we go, my beautiful Agnetha?”

Alexander accepted her arm gratefully and bent down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Lead the way, Björn.”

“What are your brothers going as?” She asked, as they slid into the backseat of the sedan.

“Uh, I think Bill and his family said that they were going as Disney characters. Gustaf and Valter are going as Top Gun’s Maverick and Goose, respectively,” He paused so that they could share a laugh at that. “And I’m not sure yet what Sam and his family are doing.”

She scratched contemptuously at the back of her head. “I hate this wig already.”

Alexander snorted into his drink. “But it looks so good on you… the way it kind of frames your face in that ‘the 70’s called and they want their hair back’ kind of way…”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the heart-shaped bellybutton window for me.”

Alexander guffawed loudly. “Oh really? We're playing that game? Well then, it’s the extra four or five inches that you’re wearing but you still don’t reach past my sternum, for me.”

They rounded the corner to Stellan’s street, and laughter bubbled up out of her mouth like a song. “It’s the fact that you look better than most women I know, for me.” This sent Alexander into such a frenzy that she paid the driver herself. “Alright, Agnetha, I have a dream and it involves you exiting this vehicle tonight,” She nudged his back to get him out of the open car door. “Let's go, girlfriend.” They ambled up the pathway hand-in-hand and stood giggling in front of Stellan’s door. Roaring laughter and bits and pieces of broken Swedish and English conversation could be heard from inside as her finger hovered above the doorbell. “You ready?”

Alexander nodded, finitely. “Go on then,”

She rang the bell and waited for what felt like years, before the door flung open and Eija greeted them in a demure, feline costume. Her face was disbelieving at first, but then her painted-on whiskers twitched; she cracked and laughter roared from her belly in happy waves. When she could speak again, she shook her head gleefully. “Come in, come in you two. What an honour to have one half of the world’s greatest band with us!” She ushered them into Stellan’s lively home, the scent of a freshly-cooked feast hung tantalizing in the air, and made her mouth water hungrily. “Just wait until papa sees you!” She clapped her hands merrily, pulling them into the adjacent living room.

Their entrance caused mass hysteria; pure laugher on a level that was hard to fathom. Gustaf approached them first, a pair of sunglasses sat perched atop his head, and he was sporting a mustache. Clad in a pair of army-green coveralls, the badge on his chest simply read, ‘Gus.’ “I have to say that when Alex first told me what the two of you were planning, this was not what I had in mind…” He scratched absentmindedly at the bridge of his nose, his smile wry. “But you two absolutely knocked it out of the park. Well done, brother.” He belly laughed, and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t wait until dad sees you.”

Valter appeared before them next, clad in the exact same costume as Gustaf accept that his badge read, ‘Maverick’, and he had on over his blue eyes, a pair of mirrored Rayban aviators. “Mamma Mia, Agnetha! Such lovely bosoms you have!”

A hand appeared out of the abyss and sneaked its way toward Alexander’s ample breasts, but the younger Skarsgård's plan was foiled before he could get there with Alexander slapping it away just in the nick of time. “Touch them and die, Valter.” He beamed, devilishly.

Valter's grin was sheepish. “My apologies Agnetha- Björn.”

She tossed a wink his way. “Turns out she can take care of herself just fine.”

“Alright, alright, where are they?” Stellan’s achingly familiar voice- unmistakable anywhere, boomed throughout the room. When he caught sight of them, he stood stock-still and tilted his head back, his rolling laughter loud and genuine. It caused pleasant goosebumps to rise in waves over her arms, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “This is it,” He announced. “I couldn’t dare to ask for another thing after this. My eldest boy and his love coming in drag as Agnetha and Björn? This is seventy, folks!” He closed the distance between them to wrap them both in a crushing bear hug. When he pulled away, his eyes were glittering brightly beneath the low light of the many lamps scattered around the living room. “How unbelievably wonderful it is to see you both here.” He kissed both of their cheeks over again, his smile wide and utterly contagious. “On a totally unrelated note- that you and Björn here have similar situations happening… ehm, up top, is really quite miraculous, isn’t it?”

Alexander rolled his azure eyes, laughing loudly at that. “Happy birthday, dad.”

“And what a wonderful birthday it turned out to be. Come, come. We have much to discuss.”

The night carried on in much the same fashion; drinks were had (and spilt), laughter was shared, pictures were taken- and all the while, she just felt unimaginably blessed to be a part of it all. Closer towards the evening’s finish, she felt Alexander’s hand tighten around her own, and she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt that this was her family. This was where she belonged.

[soulmate-game]

Part1 ... Part2 ... Part3...

Marinette blinked, tilting her head a bit. The streets around them were loud and bustling with bodies and vehicles despite the sun being right at the horizon. Gotham would slow down soon, people being wary of the darkness in the crime-ridden city,but for now it was busy as usual. Marinette and Jon stood outside the stadium that would be hosting the World Fencing Finals, but a familiar face had stopped them right before they entered.

“I didn’t know you liked fencing,” Marinette mused out loud, making Damian tsk and look away. The boy got along with Marinette alright, but that didn’t immediately cancel out his natural standoffish nature.

“Of course you didn’t, I never told you,” he retorted smoothly, the youngest Wayne moving forward to reluctantly open the door for his two friends.

“You hardly talk about yourself at all, actually,” Marinette continued, humming to herself. “Are you keeping secrets?”

Damian scoffed again, even as Jon snickered behind them. “Everyone has secrets. Even a naive child like you should know that.”

Jon couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face. He had long since gotten used to the strange way the two communicated over the past month since they first met. Marinette always seemed to know when one of Damian’s jabs were or weren’t meant as serious insults, just as Damian was somehow able to always pick up the exact second that Marinette’s caring nature switched from being rooted in kindness to coming from a place of fear.

Yet Jon was the only one of the trio of friends who could hear their heartbeats change pace when they spotted one another, or when their hands accidentally brushed. Neither Damian nor Marinette seemed to realize their own feelings yet, but Jon would be there when they did.

He just hoped their relationship didn’t develop too quickly. Both his best friend and his new sister were dangerously fragile, just in different ways. He didn’t want them accidentally breaking each other.

“Come to think of it,” Jon heard Damian say, pulling the young kryptonian from his thoughts. “You do not talk about yourself quite as much as it seems like you do. You’ve certainly never mentioned liking swordplay.”

“Ah,” Marinette gave Damian a lopsided smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “I like watching it sometimes, but I’m mainly here to see my friend. She’s one of the competitors today, she and I managed to convince her mom to let her sleepover at our place for two nights.”

“But only if she wins,” Jon added sourly. He and his dad had both heard that condition of the deal that Kagami’s mother had made loud and clear. “I’m sorry Mari, but your friend’s mom sounds way too strict and demanding. If she wins this competition, she can spend two days hanging out with you, but if she even gets as low as second place they have to go back to Japan for remedial training immediately?” Jon shook his head. It wasn’t right.

Damian raised both eyebrows at that, but seemed more intrigued than surprised. “I’ve seen stricter,” he commented casually, only succeeding in making Jon glare at him for the veiled reference to his own dark childhood. “But you are right, Kent. That is concerning treatment. Who is this friend of yours, Marinette? Perhaps I have heard of them if they are good enough to qualify for the World Finals.”

By then, the trio had already handed in their tickets and reached the stands. Jon and Marinette glared at Damian when they realized all of their seats were in the front row, right next to each other even, knowing without a doubt that the rich boy was somehow behind it. The two Kents had had much worse seats when they had first purchased their tickets online.

Marinette waited until they all sat down before answering. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you know her. Her name’s Kagami Tsurugi—“

“World class fencer from a long family line of Japanese fencers,” Damian interrupted, nodding knowingly as one of his hands raised to gently grip his chin. “Before Fencing was introduced to Japan, they were famous for their practice of kendo and katana technique. Especially considering their typically untraditional way of insisting that the females in their family take up combat. That, of course, traces all the way back to the ancient female samurai, or Onna-Bugeisha, Tomoe Gozen, one of the ancestors of the Tsurugi family before they split from the Gozen family.”

Marinette and Jon just blinked at the young heir, before Jon’s mouth slowly started to curve up in a mischievous smile. Damian’s eyes narrowed in warning.

“Kent—“

“You’re a fan,” Jon ignored the warning, gleefully grinning ear to ear. “You did your research on her and her family, that’s some hardcore biggest-fan behavior right there. Do you want us to see if she can give you an autographkfgdjgdgj—“ Jon was cut off as Damian lunged over Marinette, the only person separating the two boys, and muffled Jon’s mouth with one hand as his other tried to slam Jon’s head on the chair’s arm. Of course super strength was no joke, and Jon’s head didn’t move even an inch as he laughed through Damian’s hands.

Marinette was somehow able to separate them, and Damian sat back in his chair with a huff and straightened his button-down shirt imperiously.

“I am not a ‘fan’,” he denied primly, but not even Marinette missed the slight pink to his cheeks even through his denial. “I simply acknowledge her skill. As a practitioner of swordplay myself, it is only me being proactive to research her family history. If she is so inclined, I intend to invite her to the manor sometime before she leaves for a casual spar.”

“Oh, she’ll love that,” Marinette agreed, nodding even as the first duel started. “Kagami is always looking for new sparring partners who can keep up with her, but so far only our other friend Adrien and her mom are capable enough. But…” her voice had dropped to a whisper out of respect for the current combatants, but both boys noticed her pause and the way she worried her lip.

“What?” Jon whispered back, worried. Marinette’s nose wrinkled.

“But I don’t know if it’s a good idea to introduce Kagami to Damian. They might end up taking over the world.”

Jon slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort. Damian just smirked.

“Now you must introduce us. Perhaps I can finally meet someone who can conspire with me to get rid of my brothers.”

With that, the three quieted and actually watched the fights. Jon didn’t really understand the rules or what was happening, but he liked watching the footwork and the different styles that each competitor used when they dueled. Then, about the third or fourth match, a fencer in a bright red uniform walked out.

“That’s her!” Marinette squealed, leaning forward in her seat. She and Damian had occasionally whispered to one another about what they thought were good or bad calls on points, and critiquing different competitor’s techniques. It was a bit of an eye opener to Jon, who realized that he didn’t know much about what Marinette’s life was like back in Paris despite living with the girl for almost five months. In fact, he didn’t know much about her beyond what she actively showed at home.

Maybe Damian had a point earlier. Marinette had a weird way of making it feel like she spoke about herself a lot but in reality didn’t share much about herself at all. Most of what Jon knew about her came from experience. He knew her tells for whenever she started getting nervous, excited, worried, or was close to an attack. He knew how to tell when she was feeling overwhelmed or started retreating into herself because she didn’t want to intrude. But this?

Jon watched as Marinette stood up and cheered for Kagami when the red-clad fencer scored swift points.

He didn’t know the things that she liked to do besides designing. She mentioned listening to Jagged Stone, maybe that was her favorite kind of music.

Whatever. Jon wouldn’t let himself dwell on how Marinette didn’t open up as much as he would like—it was his job as the older brother for once to put some effort in too. Besides, with everything else Marinette had been through over the months it made sense for her to be a little closed off.

Jon moved his eyes back to the floor. Kagami lunged forward right then, ruthless as she slashed and didn’t allow her opponent a moment to do anything but scramble to deflect. But the red-uniformed woman was too fast, almost violent in her strikes, and she landed three hits on her opponent within one second.

Yeah. Now that he knew what was going on, he knew how to gently, slowly, learn more about his sister. Sorry Kon, but Jon had his eyes on the Best Brother prize.

Kagami won, without her opponent winning a single point against her.

“You know, Kagami’s fighting reminds me of someone,” Jon spoke up, ignoring the venomous glare Damian sent him. His sister looked over curiously as the fighters swapped out and Kagami was led to the back, where a locker room of sorts was set up for the competitors.

“Really? Who? I’ve only ever seen Kagami fight like that. Maybe her mom, but that’s different.”

Jon smiled, knowing he’d get some shit for this stunt later when he went on patrol with Damien but decidedly not caring.

“Robin. The newest one anyway, you can find videos online from different sightings of him around Gotham. He uses a sword.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, obviously knowing that he partnered with Robin a lot as Superboy but not knowing that Damien was also intimately aware of that fact.

“Huh, that’s weird. Ryuuko, one of the Paris heroes, also uses a sword. But it’s a Miraculous weapon, so it’s a bit different than a normal sword.”

Jon winced. That backfired, he and his dad weren’t quite ready for the rest of the JL to know about the Paris situation. So much for the plan to bring it up later, when Marinette was better settled into life in America.

“Paris has heroes?” Damian asked, eyes sharp. All it took was one glance from the green-eyed boy for Jon to know that this would definitely be brought up to Batman. Great.

At least the next match started, distracting both of the fencing fans from continuing the conversation. For the moment.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette was the loudest voice in the stadium, standing on her chair without shame as she cheered for her friend, Kagami’s lips twitching in the slightest hint of a smile before she bowed her head to accept her medal.

Marinette was not surprised at all to see her friend win first place in the whole competition. Damian was pleased, and suitably impressed. Jon was just happy that this meant Kagami’s mother couldn’t keep Marinette from spending time with her friend.

Hopping down from the chair, Marinette turned to her friend and brother with a large smile. “Come on! Kagami and her mom are going to meet us in front of the building once everything is done, but I don’t want to fight the crowds.”

Jon cringed, nodding and standing up immediately. Marinette didn’t do well in crowds nowadays, though it could certainly be worse. Inside buildings like the school wasn’t so bad, it was mainly outdoors. Jon and his parents never missed how Marinette would constantly hold Lois’s hand or stick religiously to the woman’s side whenever they walked outside around tall buildings or through thick crowds. None of them mentioned it.

Damien picked up on it, having observed Marinette’s behavior firsthand during the only time he had went outside with her somewhere other than school. They had merely gone to buy Damian a new tie that Marinette approved of, but the girl had scarcely gone further than a foot away from him the whole time they were outside in the city. Only the stern glances from Jon had kept him from commenting on it.

Moments later, the two had found themselves waiting outside the stadium at almost ten at night, though none of them seemed particularly uncomfortable. Marinette seemed downright at home, besides her occasional glances up at the building next to them and her refusal to leave Damian’s side. They waited a good half hour in the slight chill of the night air before Kagami Tsurugi, completely changed out of her uniform, walked up beside her mother Tomoe Tsurugi.

The older woman was, to Jon’s slight shock (Damian’s research was VERY thorough), blind. She tilted her head when she and her daughter stopped in front of the trio.

“Miss Marinette?” She asked in flawless English. “How have you been?”

Marinette smiled, the expression oddly soft compared to her usual beaming grin. “As well as I can be, Madame Tsurugi. With me are my adoptive brother, Jon Kent, and one of my new friends, Damian Wayne. If it is alright with you, we would like to go to Damian’s house for the night. My guardians and his father already approved.”

Jon and Damian blinked, never having heard Marinette speak so properly before. It truly said a lot about the kind of woman Tomoe Tsurugi was. The woman gave an icy smile, pleased but distant. She raised one delicate eyebrow.

“I am getting old, but not dumb Miss Dupain-Cheng. I know very well who the Waynes are, and referring to his home as a mere house is a gross understatement that you couldn’t hope to fool me with in a hundred years,” the woman remarked with subtle humor. Marinette chuckled.

“It was worth a shot,” she defended herself with a shrug. Tomoe shook her head in amusement before settling both hands on her cane and straightening her posture.

“If you vouch for your… friend…” Tomoe said with deliberate slowness. Marinette was quick to nod.

“I do. Damian is trustworthy, and I won’t leave Kagami alone, Madame Tsurugi.”

Tomoe’s mouth flattened, and she was silent for a moment. “You know that you are one of the few people I trust with my daughter, Marinette. I will trust your judgement this time as well. However, Kagami must still call me in the morning and when she does reach your new home as well. And you remember her vacation training schedule?”

Both boys looked at each other, wondering why Kagami did not even try to speak up even though they had their own suspicions. The Japanese teen found that to be the moment she was done being silent however, and sighed.

“Mother,” Kagami spoke, back straight and tone level and proper. “I am perfectly capable of sticking to my training on my own. I do not need Mari-hime to remind me.”

Tomoe pursed her lips, but nodded nonetheless. “Alright. Mister Wayne? I trust your father is alright with Kagami bringing her fencing equipment?”

Damian nodded, despite knowing that Tomoe would not see it. For some reason he got the feeling that she was fully aware of the gesture regardless of her lack of sight.

“Of course. I am actually a fencer as well, though not competitively. I was hopeful that Kagami would humor me with a spar, our manor has a rather nice gym that would provide a more than sufficient space for such an activity.”

At that, Tomoe seemed rather pleased. “That is, of course, up to Kagami since she has not seen Marinette in quite some time and likely has plans for her time already. But I encourage any opportunity that my daughter finds to hone her skills.”

“The competitors today were skilled, but lack knowledge of real battle,” Kagami added, locking gazes with Damian. “My mother trains me as if I were actually fighting, so I seldom find fencers able to match my reactions. If you believe yourself capable, I would be honored to cross swords with you.”

“Oh no,” Marinette stage-whispered to Jon even as her eyes stayed on Damian and Kagami. “This is where the world domination starts.”

Even Tomoe couldn’t resist a small grin at that, and it wasn’t much longer before the trio were picked up by Damian’s butler, who introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. Inside the limousine, Kagami visibly relaxed. Her back was still straight, though not overly so, and her face was no longer stringently stoic. Once they pulled away from the stadium, she wasted no time pulling Marinette into a tight hug.

“I am sorry I could not be there for you, Mari-hime.”

Marinette laughed, returning the hug enthusiastically. “Don’t be silly! You were at the funeral, and you video chat with me at least twice a week. That’s plenty.”

Kagami shook her head, tightening her hold. “My mother would have been more than happy to take you in. Sometimes I believe she likes you more than me,” Kagami finally pulled away, turning to level a hard stare at Jon. “But that obviously did not happen, so you and your parents better take good care of Mari-hime, or nobody will find your bodies.”

“Kagami!” Marinette immediately reprimanded, aghast. “The Kents are wonderful! And what did I say about the death threats?”

Kagami rolled her eyes. “My cousin’s family still makes traditional katanas. I have plenty of available arms to carry out my promises.”

“Kagamiiiiiii.”

“If they treat you well, then they have nothing to worry about.”

Marinette groaned in despair, dramatically flopping over until she was draped over the side of Kagami like a limp towel. “I’m gonna get you a spray bottle, and every time you threaten somebody with violence I’m going to spritz you.”

Kagami’s eyes narrowed in playful challenge. “You will have to catch me first.”

Damian was smirking, enjoying this interaction a bit too much. “I believe the two of us will get along just fine, Tsurugi. Do you have a favorite katana craftsman, by any chance?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“They’re so tiny!” The man did not seem to realize the danger he was in with that statement. He was apparently one of Damian’s older brothers, Jason Todd. Both Kagami and Marinette, the “tiny” people in question, glared daggers at the man. “Okay, you,” he said to Kagami, “You’re at least intimidating. Don’t unsheathe that sword please. Bruce already told us that you won the World Finals, and I would rather not die today.” He held his hands up in surrender. Kagami just smirked smugly, and crossed her arms.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “And me?”

Jason blinked. “What about you? You’re tiny and adorable, even when you’re glaring at me!” He boldly came forward to rustle her hair. “Like a little pixie.”

Kagami covered her smile with a hand, eyes dancing with amusement. Bruce, who had been the first to welcome them all in and introduce himself to Kagami, was pinching his nose next to Alfred in the background. Damian’s other brothers were also gathered. Apparently they all had wanted to meet his new friend and Jon’s new sister.

“Be careful, I’m not the one you should be worried about. At least without my sword I am not as dangerous,” Kagami warned. Everyone blinked at her, and her expression quickly turned confused. Her eyes darted to Marinette, who was too busy glaring at Jason with puffed-out cheeks to notice. “Mari-hime… you didn’t tell anyone?”

Marinette finally looked over, shrugging. “I mentioned it to Jon, Clark, and Lois.”

“What are you talking about, Miss Tsurugi?” Bruce asked, curious after the warning from the fencer. Kagami looked up, and slowly a devious smile spread over her face. It was small, but sent shivers over Jason’s spine.

“Jason and Marinette should spar. Mari-hime is quite the combatant when she desires to be.”

Jason crossed his arms, raising his brow and looking Marinette up and down. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m about double her size—“

“Hey Jon, why don’t you call Lois?” Marinette interrupted, turning to look at her brother with a small smirk. “We’ve got her a huge story— burly biker is too scared to spar a girl half his size.”

Cackles arose, the other two of Damian’s brothers leaning on each other as they guffawed. Bruce and Alfred even stifled chuckles of their own, and Damian’s smirk was infuriatingly prominent. Jon was much like the other two Wayne boys, nearly bowled over in laughter. Jason, after a brief moment of shock and offense, straightened up and grinned. He shrugged off his leather jacket with a small huff of laughter of his own.

“Alright, that was pretty good. You want a spar that badly, you got one. But you’re gonna have to really impress me if you want me to take back what I said about you being adorable and nonthreatening.”

“I’m putting fifty dollars on Marinette,” Kagami bet loudly, raising her hand. “Who wants to bet against me?”

Jason and Marinette both shook their heads in amusement, the big man leading Marinette to the family fitness room (the public one anyway, outside of the Batcave) as everyone besides Bruce and Alfred energetically placed their bets on who would win the spar.

Dick and Tim were betting on Jason, for obvious reasons. Damian withheld from betting, but it was clear he was hoping Marinette would somehow win. Jon just stayed quiet, refusing to share any opinion on the matter. But once Jason and Marinette started heading to the sparring mat that was already laid out, he stopped her.

“You sure about this?” He asked, pulling her away so that nobody else could eavesdrop. “I know I laughed and everything, but you don’t have to spar. Jason won’t hold back if you tell him not to, but he’s not a pushover in any respect.”

Marinette frowned. She had gotten a little caught up in the moment, but at the same time… she wanted this. “You guys are great,” she replied to her brother, voice equally soft. “But you and Clark don’t focus on combat technique. I haven’t had a real fight, at least not one where I don’t have powers to fall back on, in a long time. I need this.”

Jon sighed, but nodded. He squeezed her shoulder for a moment, before smiling at the shorter girl. “Then show everyone what you can do. And I suggest telling Jason not to hold back, or you won’t be able to show off as much as you want.”

Marinette bounced on her heels happily, leaning up to kiss Jon on the cheek. “I’m winning Kagami some money today!” She yelled with a fist-bump before jogging over to join a very amused Jason.

“Was your bro giving you some tips?” He asked, stretching out his arms as Marinette giggled.

“Kind of! Jon suggested that I ask you to not hold back!”

Jason froze, gaze sliding over to the young kryptonian, who only smiled back enigmatically. He might not have spent much time around the youngest Super, but he hung out with Kon often enough and he knew that Jon was fully aware of what he was capable of as Red Hood. He wouldn’t suggest that Jason not hold back unless he was actually confident in Marinette’s skill.

The rest of his family seemed to pick up on that as well, also frozen in shock. Jason was one of the most ruthless fighters of all of them, fearless and brutal.

“Kent better know what he’s doing,” Damian hissed under his breath, to which his father and brothers could only nod to silently.

“So the pixie wants me to not hold back? Alright,” Jason agreed to after a moment of stunned silence. Immediately most of his jovial manner drained away, replaced with focus as he spread his legs and sunk into a stance that came naturally to him at that point. If Jon and Marinette both wanted him to treat her like a real threat (without forgetting that this was just a spar, anyway) then he would. Maybe the girl had super strength or invulnerability like the other Supers. That would explain why Clark was so quick to take her in.

“Oh I hope we don’t regret this later,” Bruce groaned before stepping into the center mat and raising one hand. “Alright. Winner is whoever can pin or otherwise subdue the other first. Please, don’t break any bones or skin. I do not need an angry Lois Lane on my doorstep tomorrow morning. You can use the whole room as long as you don’t risk hitting or involving any of us innocent bystanders. Ready?” Bruce backed up off the mat. “Start!” He wasted no time backing away to a wall.

There was no moment of stillness. There was no waiting with baited breath or looking for an opening. As soon as Bruce called Start, Jason attacked.

He jumped over the distance separating him and Marinette, bringing his knee up to try and end this in one strike like he would have in the field.

Only Marinette wasn’t there to take the hit. Just as quickly as Jason had lunged, she had jumped. Instead of Jason kicking her in the stomach, the small Asian girl had leapt up, and landed on the upraised knee balanced on only one nimble foot.

Suddenly, they were face to face. They grinned at each other, and then they were nothing but movement again.

—*—*—*—*—*

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @bigpicklebananatree @thezestywalru @bugaboosandbees @ironspiderstark @mikantsume @marinettepotterandplagg @more-or-less-human-i-guess @myazael @ladybug-182 @buticaaba @dast218 @maribat-is-lifeblood @elspethshadow @fandomsaremylifeline @moonlightstar64 @whats-she-gonna-post-next @toodaloo-kangaroo @maybemanymuffins @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @legendaryneckjudgestudent @goblinwhoships @yin-390

Part 5

This got long, so the majority of the spar will be in the next part so that I don’t get cut off. :D OMG, StOrY DeVelOPmeNT?! Who am I?!

More good stuff next chap.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - prologue

first hellos & last goodbyes

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 3.2k

note from the writer: it’s finally here. I’m working on finishing the epilogue, but the entire series currently has a 26k word count and I’m not quite done. I’m going to have a posting schedule, I just haven’t decided whether or not to make it daily or every other day yet. let me know what you think!

JUNE

It’s warm, not unbearably so, but you were more than comfortable in your strappy sundress. You were happy, a smile evident on your face as you bounced around your aunt’s house. You were itching to help with setting up the barbecue, considering she had offered to host you for the summer while your parents took off on a well-deserved second honeymoon. Even though you were twenty, summers home from college were to be spent with family and it had been a while since you  had seen your extended family from Vancouver.

“Do you need something to do?” Your aunt asked, a grin turning up the corners of her mouth as she glanced up at you from the salad she was mixing. You smiled, nodding once before taking a sip of the beer your cousin had thrust into your hands the moment she spotted you come down the stairs. “Take these out to your uncle.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” You mock saluted, grabbing the empty platter she gestured to and slipping out the back door and onto the patio. Your uncle was standing at the grill, polo shirt tucked into cargo shorts and to complete the stereotypical barbecue dad look, he had on a baseball cap and sandals. “Special delivery.” You grinned, setting the platter down beside the grill for when the burgers and hotdogs were done. He smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of your head before releasing you and returning to his conversation with one of his buddies.

You turned, looking for your next destination when you saw your cousin Rachel, the one you were staying with that was only a few months older than you, waving you over. You smiled, crossing the yard and trying not to feel awkward under the gaze of the two brunettes that were standing with her, one boy and one girl that looked similar enough to be related.

“Hey, there you are.” Rachel squeezed you into her side much like her father did, and you reciprocated the half-hug. She introduced you to them, and you smiled politely. “And this is Tyson and Kacey, they live next door.”

“Hi.” You turned, and for the first time you let yourself take in their appearance. Kacey was smiling like a total sweetheart, but when you turned your attention to Tyson it felt as if your breath had been knocked out of you for a moment. He was grinning at you, with the widest and most charming smile that you couldn’t look away from.

You had never been one for believing in love at first sight, but there was something about Tyson and the way he was looking at you that had you questioning it. As cliché as it sounded, you genuinely felt as if the rest of the world melted away, and you were sharing a moment with him.

But as quickly as it began, it ended, and Kacey was asking you questions. Rachel pinched your side at the same time Kacey elbowed her brother, shaking both of you out of whatever daydream place you had been.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You smiled sheepishly at Kacey, punctuating your sentence with a sip of your beer and a silent prayer that no one would comment on your sudden flustered appearance. Rachel was as close to you as a sister, which meant she both adored you and loved to tease you relentlessly. Thankfully, she stayed quiet, but you did not miss the look she shot you.

“I asked where you’re from?” She repeated, and though the question was directed to you, she was eyeing her brother cautiously. He was flushed just as much as you were, maybe even more so, with the color blossoming on his cheeks and reaching the tips of his ears.

“Oh, I’m from Seattle, in the States. My parents moved there from here before I was born.” You explained with a smile, squeezing your bottle a little too hard as you tried to ignore Tyson’s gaze on you. You were barely holding it together just knowing he was there, so you did not trust yourself to meet his smile.

He hadn’t even said anything yet and you were already a blushing mess.

You chatted with them for a bit, answering questions about your classes and hometown and how much you liked Vancouver. You told them how you were working to be an elementary teacher and that had always been your dream.You asked about their lives, and were surprised to find out that Tyson was a professional hockey player in Colorado. You thought that was cool, being a fan of the sport, but after a few questions about how he was liking it and that it must be fun to travel a lot, the topic was dropped in favor of Kacey pointing out Rachel’s boyfriend Michael arriving.

He slid between you and Rachel, giving you a side-hug before wrapping an arm around Rachel’s waist and kissing her cheeks. You greeted him with a kind smile, and though you had only met him a few days prior, you could already tell how happy he was making your cousin. Introductions were made, and Kacey once more took it upon herself to question the newcomer.

“Can you, uh, show me where you got that?” Tyson spoke up, gesturing to the now-empty bottle you had just taken your last slip of. Kacey, Rachel, and Michael were in their own little conversation already, so you nodded and turned away from the group before he fell in step beside you. “So, how long are you in Vancouver?”

“I head back at the end of August.” You explained, setting your empty bottle in the bag designated for recycling before finishing your original path to the cooler. Tyson spotted it, pulling out a bottle and handing it to you before grabbing one for himself. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by one of your uncle’s calling your name, telling you to come play a game of cornhole with him and his wife, urging Tyson to be your partner.

“Are you any good?” He questioned with a grin that you easily returned, adding a nod to answer his question. He tapped his bottle to yours, leading the way through the yard to where the game was set up, glancing at you over his shoulder as he spoke next. “You better, I’m a competitive person, you know.”

“You should be nice to me, I showed you where the beer is.” You grinned, smile growing wider at the booming laugh that slipped past his lips. He moved to stand at the opposite board beside your uncle, and you weren’t sure if the warmth you felt was from his smile or the sun beating on your shoulders, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

The hours seemed to pass by in a blur. You and Tyson had come out victorious in your game, and were halfway through a rematch when the food was being served. You met up with Kacey, Rachel, and Michael after that, filling your plates before heading to the gazebo at the end of the yard to eat.

Even after that, when Rachel and Michael had slipped away and Kacey was called over by her mom, Tyson didn’t leave your side. The whole time, you were laughing with him. He was incredibly goofy, a smile never leaving his face the entire time you were with him.

You were still chatting with him as the sun started to set, and at the first sign of your shivers, he offered you the sweatshirt he had brought over with him earlier in the day. You tried to control the way your cheeks heated up, but the Colorado Avalanche sweatshirt he had given you was entirely too soft and comfortable for you to not blush after tugging it over your head.

Tyson looked as if he wanted to say something, but was once more interrupted. The soft way he was looking at you was mesmerizing, but once Rachel jumped into the gazebo his attention snapped to her with amusement in his eyes.

“Hi, so, sorry to interrupt, but you guys kind of need to go someplace grandma can’t see you.” She grinned at you, laughing breathlessly as Michael wrapped an arm around her from behind and tugged her back into his chest. You raised a brow at her in silent question, but Tyson was already standing and offering his hand to you in order to pull you to your feet. “Michael and I want to… go someplace…” You laughed at her word choice, knowing she entirely meant they wanted to go hookup somewhere. “But grandma overheard me telling mom we were heading out, and you know how she is, and she said we could only go if I took you and Tyson.”

You nodded, though you were a little distracted by the fact that Tyson still hadn’t let go of your hand. Your grandma had always been on the more conservative side in regards to relationships and whether or not you should have alone time—in the way Rachel so obviously was hinting at—before marriage.

“Have her home before midnight.” You teasingly threatened Michael, and he nodded with a chuckle. He was a good guy, you knew that, but it was still fun to give him grief. You had followed them to the front of the house, and you and Tyson watched as they drove off.

“Wanna go for a walk?” He asked, swinging your entwined hands dramatically and nodding his head in the direction of the road. You grinned, tugging him by the hand to lead him. As you walked it was silent, save for your occasional giggle as Tyson made it his mission to see just how obnoxiously he could swing your arms before you commented on it and stopped him. You didn’t plan on doing that, though, because the way he was grinning ridiculously and giggling as your hands went practically vertical was utterly adorable.

“You’re a dork.” You chuckled, bumping him with your shoulder. That had him laughing loudly into the nighttime summer air, the sun having just set moments ago. Tyson stopped walking then, and you turned to stand in front of him. He was smiling at you, though it was much softer than the teasing grin and beaming look you had been met with all day.  You raised a brow, about to question his change in demeanor when he reached his free hand up and brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear and letting his fingers trace down your jaw.

“Can I kiss you?” He sounded a little hesitant, like he was afraid of scaring you off and just the fact that he was so nervous after being so confident and sweet all day had you grinning. You weren’t sure if it was the four beers you’d had during the day or the simple fact that everything felt so easy and comfortable with Tyson, but you were nodding before you really knew it.

As he leaned down towards you, he tilted your chin up a bit. Your eyes fluttered shut, and soon after his lips brushed against yours. The way his lips felt like something out of a movie, how the quiet street around you melted away into nothing and it was just you and Tyson. The kiss was short, but when he pulled back and saw just how wide you were smiling, he was quick to press his lips to yours again.

The second kiss was firmer, but just as gentle and you dropped Tyson’s hand to brace yourself against his chest as he tugged your hips to get you closer. There wasn’t any heat in the kiss—passion, yes, but it was clear that kissing was as far as things were going to go.

You pulled away first the second time, and you were certain your grin was as wide as his. He looked adorable, the smile reaching his cheeks and your hands slipped from his chest to around his middle. Your next words fell past your lips easily, and his answering nod came before you even finished speaking.

“Let’s hang out tomorrow.”

AUGUST

Summer had come and gone, and your parents had gotten home from their trip the night before. That meant today you were headed to the airport, back to Seattle and to your regular life. You knew saying goodbyes sucked, but leaving Tyson hurt more than you thought it would.

You had said goodbye to his mother, Kacey, Michael, and your whole family back at the house. Tyson had offered to drive you to the airport in order to get just a few more minutes of alone time with you, and your aunt knew how close you had gotten over the summer. She remembered what it was like, to be young and falling hopelessly for someone.

Tyson hadn’t let go of your hand since you had gotten in the car, his gripping yours tight across the center console. You didn’t talk about it, you’d been living in dread and silent denial for the past two weeks. Tyson talked, though, and you admired his constant assurances that he’d stay in touch and you’d see eachother again. There was no timetable, with how you would be starting classes and he’d be busy with training camp, and then once the regular season started you’d be swamped with midterms, and then finals—but he promised, and you trusted him with everything.

He parked his car at the airport, adamant about being with you until they wouldn’t let him go any further, until he would’ve had to buy a ticket to go with you, and he was tempted to do just that. You sighed, leaning your head back until it rested against the seat.

Tyson copied your position, turning his head to the side to look at you. You could feel the weight of his stare fall heavy on your face, and just seeing the airport in person made everything all the more real.

Tyson was good at reading your emotions, he had spent nearly each day of summer with you, He’d be damned if he hadn’t been ingraining every moment spent with you in his mind in preparation for this day from the second he laid eyes on you at that first barbecue. Usually, he saw happiness and joy in your eyes. He had only ever seen the look of sadness he saw now on the few occasions where you felt homesick—and that one time he had walked in on you, Kacey, and Rachel watching the ending of The Notebook. He raised your interlocked hands, pressing a kiss to the back of yours to get your attention.

You smiled weakly, turning to face him. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your nose and you dropped your head to his shoulder. You could feel the tears start to gather in your eyes, the ache in your chest longing for him despite the fact that you were literally holding his hand still.

“We can do this. You’re too smart to be crying over some guy.” He commented, and though there was truth in some of what he said, he was mostly poking fun at what your grandma had said a few days earlier when you told her that you didn’t want to leave, you had meant it as a comment about missing everyone, but she knew you were upset about Tyson.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, nudging his shoulder as he chuckled lowly. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, knowing you’d wasted too much time already and needed to hurry into the airport. Tyson knew it, too, and he made the first move by opening his door. With a sigh, you followed suit, only to be swept into a hug the moment both your feet were on the ground. Apparently, you had taken longer to get out of the car than you thought, because he had already gotten your luggage out and set them beside him.

The urge to cry was back, your throat was tight and you couldn’t meet Tyson’s gaze. He didn’t push it, instead he grabbed one of your suitcases and handed you the other, grabbing your free hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. You still didn’t say anything, and Tyson silently led you through the airport. When he stopped and sighed, you knew it was time to say goodbye.

“It’s not true, you know.” It was obvious by the look on his face that he was confused by your words, that your grandma’s offhanded comment hadn’t been weighing as heavily on his mind as it was on yours. “You’re not just some guy, Tys.”

This time, you couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through your body as he pulled you into him, one hand on the back of your head to tuck you into his chest while the other ran soothingly up and down your back. He was whispering sweet nothings and gentle assurances in your ear, and you were hanging on to his every word—it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told you, but they were things you would miss hearing and that had you gripping his shirt tighter.

“I know. I know, I’m not.” He whispered, tilting your head up with his hands that were cupping both of your cheeks. He thumbs brushed the area under your eyes, wiping at the wetness that had gathered there as a result of having to leave. His voice was tight, and one glance into his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and the way his shoulders were tense told he wasn’t doing much better than you.

You stayed like that for as long as you could, wrapped up in each other and exchanging kisses as if you hadn’t had the chance to do so all summer. You were drinking in every last moment with him, burning the feeling of his grip on your hips and the smell of his cologne into your memory.

And then you absolutely had to leave, and maybe even run through security to make your plane. Your hand was curled around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet you halfway as he pulled your hips against his own for the sole purpose of getting as close to you as he could.

And then he was wiping your tears one last time, tugging you back into his chest for one last hug and one last forehead kiss and it was really driving home the fact that you were leaving. You were leaving an amazing guy that you had fallen for over the course of a summer, and it was up in the air when you’d see him again.

And then you were walking away, your feet seemingly moving of their own accord. You were wiping away your own tears, and you pushed down the thought that it felt so much more comforting when Tyson did it. You gave him one last wave, and he blew you one last dramatic kiss just to hear you laugh at his antics one last time.

And then you turned the corner and he disappeared from your view, and from your life, for two years.

And if you had known, you would’ve kissed him harder one last time.

[12yeahiminluvwu]

Calm

pairing - Rudy Pankow x Little Sister!Reader

summary- Requested by @deathcompass :) “hi! your writing is amazing :) i was wondering if you could write something with drew/rudy where his younger sister has a panic attack and he helps her calm down because she gets them a lot?”

word count- 1.9+ 

warning(s)- panic attack tw, anxiety tw, swearing (maybe? idk), kinda cliche… gives me 2016 wattpad vibes ngl, the ending sucks i’m so sorry! very loosely edited

series masterlist 

masterlist

Disclaimer: I’ve only ever had very mild panic attacks so I’m going to use my own experiences to write this, but I do understand that they can be very severe and I’m not in any way trying to romanticize anything at all. I love you, stay safe <3 

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

“Hey bug, you ready to come home?” You sighed, realizing that summer was ending and you would be having to go back to Alaska for school. It hadn’t snuck up on you, but some part of you had hoped that you’d get to stay with your brother forever. 

“I guess…” You mumbled back, not wanting to hurt your parents but also not wanting to go back. 

“You’re all set to fly out in a few days, we can’t wait to see you!” Your mom exclaimed. You could hear the excitement in her voice which only broke your heart even more. The familiar feeling began to bubble up in your chest, making it seem like you couldn’t breathe in all the way, like something was taking up space in your lungs preventing you from getting enough oxygen. This hadn’t happened all summer, not since you came to live with Rudy. It had been so long since you felt it, you almost forgot the feeling altogether. 

“Sweetie? You still there?” Your mom’s voice brought you out of your own head and back into the real world, where a few minutes of silence had passed. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. I’ll see you soon. Love you guys.” You quickly ended the conversation, wanting to get as far away from your phone as possible, as your mind assimilated it with the panic you were feeling. 

This time, you were able to keep yourself calm.

--

“Baby, do you really have to leave?” Your boyfriend asked, his arms sliding around your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The feeling of his skin on yours always ignited a fire within you, one you didn’t want to put out. You leaving in a few days felt like a storm threatening to wash away the wildfire the two of you had created together. 

“Yeah… I have to go back to school, my brother is gonna be filming season two of his show in Charleston, I’d have no one to stay with…” You mumbled into his chest, soaking in his scent, aching to remember every piece of him. Part of you wanted to believe that a long-distance relationship with him would work but the rest of you knew that it wasn’t fair to either of you. 

“Go to school here, with us! You could stay with me!” One of your best friends chimed in. A spark of hope lit up in your stomach, maybe you could stay. But then, like clockwork, that same feeling from earlier began to slither its way through your body. Your mind raced to all the things you’d be leaving behind, all the friends you had back home that you hadn’t seen in months. 

But as your mind raced and you sat with your new friends, and boyfriend (something you never thought you’d get back home), you realized the people in this room meant more to you than the people back home, who were only still friends with you because they didn’t have anyone else to be friends with. That still didn’t keep the panic at bay, but once again, you were able to keep yourself calm. 

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

“Roo, I wanna talk to you about something…” You said, coming into his room that night. 

“What’s up kid?” He asked, watching you sit down next to him on his bed. The way you twiddled your thumbs and chewed on your lips told him you were nervous about something, his mind racing to find out what it could be. The energy in the room shifted, and it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Taking a big gulp, you started trying to verbalize your thoughts, even though it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“So… I was thinking- maybe- I… I could stay here with my friends and go to school here. She said she’d- she’d talk to her mom and ask if it was ok. But like, I would- I would need your help talking to mom and dad because I don’t want to hurt their feelings, but I really- really don;t want to go back home…” You stumbled out, hoping that he would understand what you had just word vomited at him. Slowly, you began to feel the burn of tears coming to your eyes, and desperately you tried to hold them back. 

“You want to stay here? How come?” He asked. He sat up, coaxing you into his arms cause he knows it calms you down. You laid your head on his chest and kept trying to take deep breaths as he stroked your hair. 

“I feel more understood by the people I’ve met here than I do by anyone in that stupid little town…” You whispered, “I’ve gotten closer to them in 3 months than I did to anyone back home in 16 years, Rudy. I have no one... no one real anyway.” 

“So you want to stay here in LA?” He asked again and you nodded. The sound of his voice was distant, sounding miles away. You did your best to focus on your breathing but that focus was quickly slipping away as your breathing became more sporadic and uneven. It was as if something was sitting on your chest, preventing you from getting enough air. 

“I’ll talk to mom and dad and see what they say. Kiddo, I need you to focus on your breathing ok? Focus on taking a deep breath all the way in and breathing all the way out.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair as you gasped in deep breaths and let the tears fall down your face. Slowly, the room started opening back up and even though the tears still ran down your face and your hands shook like an earthquake, it got a little easier to breathe. 

“That’s it, just like that,” He cooed. You sighed at the sound of his voice, remembering when you used to get these all the times before Rudy left home. After he was gone, they picked up even more and your mom and dad just didn’t quite know how to ground you like Rudy did. He was always there to protect you, it was a kick in the gut when he left you. But here he was, calming you down.

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

Rudy sat up in the living room, the next morning. You were still asleep, somewhat exhausted from last night's events. The phone rang and he took a deep breath, hoping for nothing more than to be able to get you what you want. 

“Hey Rudy! How have you been?” Your guys’ mom answered and he smiled, hearing the happiness in her voice. 

“Hey mom, is dad around?” He asked and heard shuffling on the other end. Suddenly his dad's voice sounded from the line and they got a little lost in simple conversation. Rudy then remembered exactly why he called them and got down to business. 

“So I wanna talk to you about Y/n…” He trailed off and your parents went a little quiet. He started to feel the sweat gather on his palms and gulped down the nervous lump in his throat, noticing the shift of energy in the call. 

“Is she ok? Did something happen to her?” Your dad spewed out, worried that something might have happened to his little girl, but he shook his head before remembering they couldn’t see him. 

“No no no she’s fine, but I know you guys are gonna be a little skeptical about what I’m going to tell you,” He sighed before continuing on, “ She wants to stay here for the school year…” 

The line went quiet. He could tell his parents were shocked, the fact that their daughter didn’t want to come home was a lot to process and they had no idea what the reasoning behind it was. 

“What do you mean? She doesn’t want to come home?” The woman gasped, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“She’s ade some really awesome friends, people she’s closer to than anyone she is with at home. She’s already lined up a place to stay while I’m shooting. I think you’d really like them actually. It’s one of her best friends and her mom, they’re really nice! I think you guys should change Y/n’s ticket so that you guys can come down here…” He rushed out, hoping they understood him, but he was met with silence once again. 

“Uhm… We’re not making any promises, but we’ll come down there so we can talk about this as a family…” His dad said and he nodded with a smile, agreeing. 

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

You woke up feeling the events from last night lingering in your shoulders and neck. 

It was a familiar ache that only ever happened after an attack, a muscle tightness that made it feel as though you’d been sleeping on concrete for the past week. Doing your best to roll out the soreness, you walked into the kitchen to see Rudy with a look on his face that you couldn’t read. 

“So… I talked to mom and dad, and they’re gonna come here so we can talk about you staying!” He smiled and you felt like a little bit of the weight you’d been feeling lifted. 

“When are they coming?” 

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” He said, coming over and hugging me tightly, “We’ll get you where you need to be kid, promise!” 

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

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Your parents sat across from you and your brother, silently. You could tell they were deep in thought, but it didn’t help the shaking that began to take over your hands. 

All you wanted was for them to understand. They weren’t always great at that… 

“Mom, are you gonna say anything?” You finally asked, wincing when she let out a sign.

“Y/n, I just don’t like the idea of you living with someone you just met three months ago....” She said finally and your dad nodded along with her. 

“You don’t understand though. I’m closer to them than I am to anybody back home! I know her and I know that she cares about me, her mom cares about me! When I wasn’t here, I was there. I’m practically already a part of the family! She’s had me and Rudy over for dinner so many times I lost count. She’s hosted dinner parties for the cast because she wants to get to know the people close to Rudy and I because she cares! She’s like a second mom to me. And I love you guys, I really do. But I’m just not happy at home! It doesn’t feel like home anymore. This… This feels like home.” You stood up, pacing back and forth, your voice gradually raising to try and hold in the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Baby…” 

“Momma…” You whispered pleadingly, looking her in the eyes for the first time since she’d arrived and finally letting the tears fall. Rudy was next to you in seconds, pulling you into his arms, doing his best to keep you grounded so you didn’t fall off the edge.

The silence was filled by your sniffles and Rudy’s whispers into your ear. Your parents looked at each other with a knowing look in their eyes. It was obvious that they were not your home anymore, and no matter how much it broke their hearts they knew they had to let you go.

“Y/n, honey, we want to meet the family first, but we think you should stay. We want you to be happy bug, and if this is where you’re happy, then this is where you should be!” Your mom finally said, coming over and wrapping you and your brother in a tight hug. Your dad followed in suit and soon enough you started to feel yourself calm down.

[amanda-glassen]

Her Everything

Part of @svuappreciation #WSVU Week. Day 7: Heartbreak. Twelve-year-old Olivia overhears why her mom never told her who her dad is. TW: rape mention.

From March to June, twelve-year-old Olivia’s Saturday mornings would be dedicated to softball. Her team may not have won that morning, but the loss didn’t matter to Olivia. She had hit a homerun and three of her favorite people were there to watch her: her mom, her uncle, and her girlfriend, Alex. It made Olivia particularly proud to see her two favorite women dressed in her team colors. Alex was wearing a mint green v-neck t-shirt with her long hair back in a ponytail with a mint green scrunchie. Her mom wore the t-shirt that all the moms wore but, never being the kind to wear an oversized t-shirt, she had cut it into a tank top to wear with her leggings. Neither her mom nor Alex knew anything about softball, but her uncle Kyle was there to explain everything to them and, even if Alex didn’t understand the game, Olivia didn’t mind as long as her cute good luck charm was there to watch her play.

She and Alex had been a couple for two months and, at twelve, two months felt like a serious commitment, especially because Alex was now allowed to come over on weekends. There wasn’t even the slightest chance that she’d be allowed in Olivia’s room with the door closed, but Olivia didn’t care where they were as long as she was allowed to hold Alex’s hand.

They decided to watch a movie on the couch after the game while Olivia’s mom and uncle were having a glass of wine in the kitchen. Olivia always enjoyed when her uncle visited and she’d overhear the casual back and forth between them－the kind that happened between siblings－the casual teasing, sharing stories, making each other laugh. It was what Olivia sometimes longed to have even if she knew it were impossible.

“I wish I had a brother,” she told Alex.

Alex pressed pause on the remote so she could focus on Olivia without any distractions. “No, you don’t,” she told her, her eyes wide. “Little brothers are annoying. I’ll give you mine for the weekend and you’ll be so glad you’re an only child.”

“Not even,” Olivia insisted. “Your little brother Logan is fun. Remember when me and him built a LEGO T-Rex and your parents took us to the batting cages and I taught him how to hit a curveball?”

Alex batted her eyelashes at her. “That’s because you like boy things.”

“I like you,” Olivia said as she started to tickle her. “And you are definitely not a boy thing.”

“Olivia!” Alex squealed loudly when Olivia continued to tickle her. 

“Girls?” they heard Serena call out from the kitchen. “What are you doing in there?”

“Nothing,” Alex and Olivia responded in unison, although they knew their time alone was now over. She quickly pressed play on the remote and sat a comfortable distance away from Alex.

Her uncle Kyle was the first to enter the living room followed by her mom, both with a full wine glass in hand. “Your mom says we have to come cramp your style, as if she didn’t have her first girlfriend when she was twelve or thirteen,” her uncle said to her. He sat down on an accent chair on one side of the couch while her mom sat down on the other. “What are we watching?”

“The Blair Witch Project,” Alex responded. “I’ve always wanted to see it, but my mom has my Netflix profile set to a Kids’ profile. I never get to watch anything fun. I’m twelve now. I should be able to watch whatever I want.”

“Maybe not whatever you want,” Serena told her. “But I’m sure she’ll let you watch more things little by little. Middle school sleepovers are when most girls start watching horror movies.”

“I remember the first time Serena watched this movie with her friends,” Kyle began. “She had a sleepover for her 13th birthday and there were probably ten girls over. My sister thought she was so cool because she was the only one who wasn’t scared. What she didn’t tell them was that she had watched this movie the night before to prepare herself so she wouldn’t be scared in front of her friends. There’s this scene toward the end where there’s a lot of screaming and that’s when I decided to mess with the circuit breaker and turn all the lights off in the house. Serena ran to our parents’ room, screaming ‘Daddy!’ at the top of her lungs. Just like that, her seventh grade reputation was ruined.”

Olivia was laughing hysterically, but Alex wasn’t so amused. “That sounds like something my little brother would do. Why are boys such jerks?”

Serena gently swirled her wine in the glass before taking a sip. “Boys are jerks until you humble them.”

“Had I known what my sister was capable of, I wouldn’t have spent the first 18 years of my life messing with her and it’d be in your brother’s best interest for him not to mess with you either,” Kyle responded. “Serena and I are best friends now, but when we were kids, I messed with her all the time and she never did anything about it. Little did I know she wasn’t one for petty revenge. My sister is calculated and cunning and she got me back in the best way.”

“How?” Alex asked, wide-eyed. “Is it something I can do, too?”

“Maybe in a few years,” Serena responded. “It was the first time frat boys proved themselves useful. Out of every college in America, he decided to go to the same school I did and join my sorority’s brother fraternity.”

“Had I known my sister had actual henchmen, I wouldn’t have,” Kyle chuckled. “This was 2007, so you know those douchey looking frat boys in teen movies back then with the gelled hair and Abercrombie shirts with the popped collars? That’s exactly what they looked like. They had these rich boy names like Kemper, Bennett, and Bradford, and my sister had all of them wrapped around her finger. They made my life a living hell when I started pledging just because she told them to and when I begged her to call this whole thing off, she said, in the most innocent tone of voice, ‘My darling baby brother, this is only the beginning. You still have eight weeks left.’ After that, I never messed with Serena again. To this day, I won’t even eat the last slice of pizza until I make sure Serena doesn’t want it. There was this other guy, Emerson, who was her best friend at the time－”

“I have to call my girlfriend,” Serena interrupted. “Excuse me.” She quickly got up to leave and Kyle hurried after her.

“Ren, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Ren?”

Although she wanted to check on her mom, she knew whatever her mom was upset about was probably something she had no business asking about, so she decided to stay with Alex. “Everything is okay,” Alex said as she rested her head on Olivia’s shoulder. “My brother and I fight all the time and everything is okay after our parents make us talk about it.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Olivia pressed play on the remote and the two of them watched the movie until the pizza arrived. With free reign to order whatever she wanted, Olivia got two large pizzas, wings, cheesy bread, and pasta. It took both her and Alex to carry it to the table, but Olivia made sure to carry the pizzas because they were the heaviest items and Olivia thought it would show Alex how strong she was. 

“I’ll be right back,” she told Alex once everything was neatly placed on the kitchen table. “Mom! Uncle Kyle! The pizza is here!”

She pressed her ear to the door and kept as quiet as she could so she could hear them talking. 

“How could you even bring him up in front of Olivia?” she heard her mom ask. “Or bring him up in front of me, for that matter? You’ll never understand what he did to me...what he still does to me every time I see him on social media with his wife and kids. He ruined my life when he raped me and it didn’t phase him. I don’t follow him. I don’t search for his name. I blocked him, but there’s no getting away from him in our social circle when everyone knows everyone. I have these constant reminders of the worst night of my life. Even Olivia…I just thought...how could I love someone that was conceived by a monster?”

She never even wanted me. She still doesn’t want me. The person I love most in the world doesn’t even love me back. She’s just been saying it all these years because she’s had to. Olivia swallowed hard to prevent herself from crying. With Alex waiting for her in the kitchen, she wanted to remain calm and collected. She didn’t cry when she saw her. Instead, she hugged Alex longer than she ever had before and found comfort in her arms since she knew she couldn’t hug her mommy anymore.

Just as she had been taught to do by her own mother, Serena touched up her makeup and pretended as if nothing had happened. It was all a misunderstanding her mother had told her when she was twenty-one. ‘What did you expect, Serena? You were in his room and you kissed him.’ It was the same thing his mother and father had told her, too. ‘How was my son supposed to know when you were giving him every signal that you wanted him to.’ Her father had told her not to report it; they’d settle this between the two families. Mr. Benson was a producer and with a premier coming up, he didn’t want an investigation getting in the way and ruining his career. Social media was in its infancy in 2008, but Emerson and his parents had found a way to use it against her. 

That night, once Alex and Kyle went home and Olivia was fast asleep, she started to reflect on what had gotten her to that point in her life. It happened at a beach-themed party that Emerson’s frat was hosting. She was in a bikini top and denim shorts as were the rest of the girls and she had taken a few shots as had everyone else at the party, but the pictures posted on Facebook the next day portrayed a girl that had gotten completely wasted and was hanging on the entire executive board of the fraternity. For the past two years they had been her friends and she had several pictures with them, but because of what she was wearing and because these were some of the first to be posted on social media, an entirely different narrative was created, one that even her own parents believed.

Serena knew the statistics on rape that were told to her and every other student during freshman orientation, but she had lived a sheltered life before college and she had always imagined that rapists were scary-looking men that attacked girls in the middle of the night when they walked alone on quiet streets. She never could have fathomed that her rapist would be her best friend. 

With three weeks left of her junior year, Serena was already looking forward to her final year of college. She had run for president of her sorority and found out she won just hours before the party began. Serena wasn’t a binge drinker by any means, but she drank more than usual that night to celebrate her victory. She went up to Emerson’s room just as she did every time she visited the frat house, but unlike every other night, she kissed him. Kissing led to something a little further that she consented to, but when she said she didn’t want to have sex and wanted to take things slow if they were going to go from best friends to something more, he took that choice away from her. The alcohol she had consumed earlier had left her in an in between stage where she was lucid enough to know what was going on but too drunk to fight him off of her. To make matters worse for her, he held her afterward and suggested she stay the night because, as he said, ‘you never know what kind of maniacs are out there in the middle of the night.’

...but she didn’t stay. She figured whoever was out there probably wasn’t as bad as who was in that frat house. Not knowing what else to do when she got home, she immediately got in the shower to wash off his scent and anything else of his that was left on her. She saw the bruises on her body from when he held her down and, for the first time, it felt real for her. It wasn’t a bad dream or some drunken hallucination. Her rapist wasn’t the boogeyman hiding in the shadows; he was one of the people she loved most in the world.

Kyle had beat him within an inch of his life once he found out what had happened and it was another thing that both families swept under the rug to protect their image. It’ll all go away during summer break, Serena told herself. I’m going to come back here and I’m going to be president of Phi Delt and be who I used to be－who I still am; however, a positive pregnancy test that summer made her come to the realization that her life would never be the same. Her parents and her friends all told her to ‘get rid of that thing’ and she had every intention of getting an abortion until she felt her baby kick. She knew her life would never be the same and she also knew it probably wasn’t the right approach to take, but Serena wanted to right the wrongs of her own mother and she felt as if this baby would give her that opportunity.

“Mommy,” she heard her now twelve-year-old daughter sobbing in the doorway of her bedroom that night, bringing her out of her thought process.

Serena lifted up her comforter and patted the bed with her hand so her daughter could join her. “Come here, Ollie.”

Once she lied down, she felt Olivia cling to her tighter than ever before. “Mom, I heard something you told Uncle Kyle and I wanna know if it’s true or maybe you’re gonna lie to me again. I don’t know. If you want, I can leave. We can call social services tomorrow and－”

“Ollie,” Serena interrupted, completely taken aback. “Ollie, what are you talking about? I never want you to leave me.” One of Serena’s worst nightmares had just come true. She was going to have to tell her and she had no idea how.

“I know you were raped,” Olivia blurted out. “I know you never wanted me and my dad was some monster who hurt you. Do I remind you of him? Why did you even keep me? No mom would want a daughter like me. I learned that in some places abortion is only legal if the pregnancy is because of rape. It’s okay everywhere to abort babies like me. I’m one of those kids that’s...less than. I’m the kind that it’s okay to get rid of.”

Serena wiped her daughter’s tears away and held her close. She still had the slightest hint of the cologne that she wore whenever she wanted to impress Alex, but the LEGO movie PJ shirt and PJ pants she was wearing made Serena feel like she was still her little girl despite how much she was growing up. “Ollie…” she hesitated to give herself more time to think. “Every woman has the right to choose what she does with her own body and I would never judge another woman for the choices she’s made regarding abortion just as I’d like to think no other woman would judge me. With that being said, I had every option in the world available to me and out of all those options, I knew the best choice for me was to keep you and I’ve never regretted that.”

“Do you promise?”

“Hold up your pinky,” Serena told her. Olivia held up her pinky next to Serena’s. They were both wearing heart-shaped pinky rings that Serena had bought a year earlier. “Remember what I said when I got us these matching rings that time we went on our mother/daughter adventure? I pinky promise to always love you and always be there for you. No matter what happens in life or how far away you may go for college or for your career, I’ll always be in your heart and you’ll always be in mine. I know things weren’t easy for us at first and I couldn’t be there for you as much as I wanted to when you were little and I might have made a few mistakes, but there was not a single moment in your entire life that I didn’t love you.”

“I don’t remind you of him when you look at me?”

“No, Ollie, nothing about you reminds me of him. Yes, that had crossed my mind when I was pregnant, but that never happened once you were born,” Serena promised her. “You don’t even look anything like him. You look like your uncle Kyle but never tell him that because you’re beautiful and I don’t want him thinking he’s attractive and getting all arrogant about it.”

“Mom,” Olivia laughed. 

Olivia’s laughter was and always would be Serena’s favorite sound. Her daughter had been conceived in a violent act, but everything about her was so innocent. The twelve years since she had given birth to her had been the best years of her life. Twelve years of cuddles, laughter, and being able to love someone so unconditionally. She’d do anything for Olivia and she had already done more than her daughter would ever know. There were custody battles between her and Emerson when Olivia was a baby and he was still trying to fight Serena for the chance to be a part of Olivia’s life. It all happened out of court now that he had a wife and kids, but she and Kyle and the rest of the Benson family were going to do all they could to keep him away from Olivia.

“Ollie, I want you to listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Olivia nodded.

“You are, have been, and forever will be the best thing that has ever happened to me. He was there when you were conceived but he didn’t create you. It was my body that created you for nine months, not his. You are nothing like him, Ollie. You are the sweetest girl and being your mom has been the greatest experience and greatest honor of my entire life.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, Olliegator?”

“I don’t think you made any mistakes. I think you’re the best mom in the world. My friends think so, too. Everyone says you’re the cool mom.” Olivia gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And, Mom?”

“Yes, Ollie Koalie?” Serena playfully tapped her daughter’s nose.

“Why do you sleep in Jamie’s shirt instead of the pretty pajamas you used to wear?”

It was yet another question that Serena wasn’t prepared for. “Jamie is my girlfriend now and she and I love each other very much and sometimes, when we aren’t together, I really miss her. If I sleep in her shirt, it’s like she’s here with me.”

“I miss Alex sometimes, too,” Olivia responded. “Do you think she’d like it if I gave her a shirt to wear when she misses me?”

“I think she’d like that very much,” Serena told her even if she wasn’t ready for her little girl to be that serious about her girlfriend. ���I have an idea. What about if you and I have a sleepover night?”

“Sleepover night!” Olivia said excitedly. “I’ll make the popcorn and pick a movie for us to watch. Can we watch another scary movie?”

“Anything you want,” Serena smiled at her.

Sleepover night was Olivia’s favorite mother/daughter tradition and, even if she was tired, Serena was willing to do whatever she could to make her daughter feel loved. 

When her college-aged self imagined life in her thirties, she imagined she’d be a famous writer living in London or Paris and she’d spend all of her free time travelling the world and treating life like some grand adventure. Motherhood had never even crossed her mind because she felt it would only slow her down. Serena Benson was now just a couple of weeks shy of her 34th birthday and, although her life had turned out nothing like she had planned, the twelve-year-old girl eating handfuls of popcorn on the couch next to her－her daughter, her everything－was the reason why it had turned out better than she could ever imagine.

[bktynes-writes]

As per the fantastic advice of the wonderful and amazing Mallory, @valleydean, I made some graphics for my fic, The Blood Of The Covenant. It’s a long, slow burn, Mafia AU, and I have no idea where it’s gonna end up, but I hope you’ll all reblog and join me for the ride. Here is the summary, and the first chapter is under the cut. Read on Ao3.

The Blood Of The Covenant The Winchester Dynasty will never fall.

At least, that’s what John and Mary, heads of the most powerful crime family in the city believe. They have built their empire from nothing, and are willing to do whatever it takes to maintain their control.

When a new family, the Novaks, threaten the delicate balance of power they have maintained for years, the eldest son, Dean, is tasked with infiltrating the ranks of the Novak’s organization to destroy them from the inside.

Dean has always been a soldier in his parent’s wars, never questioning where his loyalties lie, but when he comes face to face with Castiel Novak, one of the sons of the family threatening to destroy his own, he wonders if maybe there could be more to life than he believed. Maybe this blue-eyed stranger can offer him the ticket out he never knew he wanted.

They say that the blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb, but how do you turn your back on family? Will Dean choose love over loyalty? Will he leave behind all he’s ever known? Or are he and Castiel destined to just be pawns in the war for power that rules the city’s underworld?

Chapter 1: Dinner

The city at night always had a certain charm about it that Dean couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was the way everything lit up a bit more or the fact that the darkness hid the grime that clung to every surface like a second skin, but the alleyways and culverts of the buildings seemed more inviting when they were filled with shadow.

He loved this city. Every dirty stairwell, every seedy bar, every doorway that led to nowhere, Dean knew them all. He had grown up on these streets, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

The sound of a car horn brought him back to reality, pulling him out of his nostalgic reverie and into the moment. He looked down at his dress shoes, sparkling in the neon lights against the damp pavement, and smiled. If there was one thing Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was dress to impress. His father had instilled in him that first impressions were important at a very young age, and how a man looks could change the direction of any transaction.

Tonight was the first Sunday of the month, which meant dinner with the Family at Cain’s. Dean never looked forward to these dinners - he found them to be mundane - but as the eldest son of the most powerful crime family in the city, he knew his mother and father expected him to attend.

Thus, he found himself in his best suit, pulling open the restaurant’s glass door and striding past the host stand like he owned the place. The young woman there gave him a nervous look, and he shot her his most charming smile, causing her to duck her head as a deep red blush crept up her cheeks. He passed by the other tables and made his way to the back of the restaurant, pointedly ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him from the other patrons. He was used to this behaviour. Anyone who was anyone in the city recognized the Winchesters, and their reputation preceded them.

He made his way past the kitchen, stopping briefly to say hello to Cain, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Dean!” Cain exclaimed, turning around and pulling him into a rib-crushing hug. “I didn’t think you were gonna show! Everyone else is already here.”

Dean laughed. In another life, he would have called him a friend.

But Winchesters didn’t have friends.

“Yeah, I figured they would be.” He said. “What can I say? Fashionably late is kinda my style.” He shrugged and smiled.

“That’s my boy, always gotta make an entrance.” Cain beamed at him. “They’re in the back room. I’ll get your usual added to the order. Hurry up before your dad tears a strip off you!”

“Thanks, Cain,” Dean said. He ducked past him and headed to the very back of the dining room.

Dean could now see the usual suspects gathered around their regular table. He spotted Bobby gruffly speaking to Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo. The Harvelles were powerful associates who owned many of the bars and rest stops along the freeway into the city, and Dean’s father liked to keep them close because he had been friends with Ellen’s late husband, Bill.

Ellen was a good source of information for the family. People let information slip that they shouldn’t after a few rounds of shots at one of Ellen’s roadhouses, and she and Jo had ears like bats. Dean was pretty sure the main reason she was included in these clandestine meetings of the family, though, is that his parents, despite their vehement claims otherwise, were a little bit afraid of her. He couldn’t blame them. He had grown up with Jo and, despite being six years older, had had his ass handed to him more times than he could count by the feisty blonde.

Dean chuckled to himself at the memory as he slid quietly into the seat next to his younger brother, Sam.

“You’re late,” stated the younger of the Winchester brothers, his arm draped lazily across his girlfriend Jessica’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I was over at the mill. Gordon owes us and is being…difficult.” He reached for the bottle of wine that sat on the table and filled his glass. He wasn’t usually a fan of wine, but Cain always brought out the good bottles for these meetings, and when he didn’t have to pay, it would be rude to refuse.

“Dad is gonna be pissed.” Said Sam, finishing his own glass and holding it out for Dean to refill.

“No, he won’t,” Dean replied, pouring too much wine into his brother’s glass. “He knows how Gordon is. He’ll just be glad I didn’t break too many of his fingers to get him to agree to pay his dues.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He ran his fingers through his absurdly long hair, and Dean found himself itching to strap his brother into a barber’s chair and order a buzz cut.

A clink of cutlery against glass brought the assembly to silence and drew everyone’s attention to the man standing at the head of the table. John Winchester was an imposing figure at the best of times, and his broad shoulders, clad in the threads of his fine Italian suit, added to his commanding demeanour. His neatly trimmed beard was flecked with grey, as was the perfectly slicked hair on his head. He stood with pride and demanded the respect of those around him with ease.

“Now that my son has finally decided to grace us with his presence, we can call this meeting to order,” John spoke with an air of distaste directed solely at Dean.

“Ah, you know me pops, better late than never,” Dean said nonchalantly. Sam was right; John was pissed.

“Indeed,” said his father coolly.

Dean tuned out most of the ensuing conversations. It was the typical discussion of territory, who was responsible for handling the gang activity on the west side, who was collecting from which businesses for protection owed and whether or not they had paid (Dean received a small nod of approval from John when he informed the table that Gordon would no longer be causing issues).

When the food came, Dean was treated to the most delicious looking plate of carbonara he had ever seen. Cain truly did know the way to his heart. Before he had the chance to dig in, a noise from the opposite end of the table drew everyone’s attention.

A beautiful woman with wavy brown hair rose from the table, and Dean rolled his eyes, huffing dramatically into his chair. Bela Talbot was always trying to draw attention to herself at these meetings, and tonight would be no exception. She wasn’t, strictly speaking, part of the Family, but she was part of a necessary evil alliance that the Winchesters had forged years ago to have hands in the art trade, and Dean had found her to be nothing but a nuisance ever since.

Her words dripped with a caramel sweetness, and despite his intense dislike of the woman, Dean couldn’t help but stare at her as she spoke.

“John. Mary. Dear Winchester Family. It has come to my attention that there appears to be a new family on the North shore. They arrived from New Jersey about six weeks ago and have been a thorn in my side ever since.” She scowled.

“Why hasn’t it been dealt with, Bela?” Asked Sam. “The North shore is your territory, isn’t it?” Sam was flexing his powers a little bit, addressing Bela that way. Usually, it would be up to John to chastise her for not taking care of a threat to their operations, but Dean could see the look of pride in his father’s eyes at Sam stepping in so willingly.

Bela’s face tinged pink slightly at the admonishing tone in Sam’s voice, and she puffed her cheeks out before speaking out again. “Under regular circumstances, Samuel, I would, but it seems that these Novaks are a bit better at playing cat and mouse than I would have anticipated.”

“Novak?” Dean snorted. “What is that, Polish?”

Bela glared at him. “I believe it’s Serbian, actually.”

Dean shrugged and twisted his fork idly in his pasta, hoping she would get to the point before it got cold. Sam continued to address her. “What’s the problem, Bela?”

“They’ve taken out three of my warehouses since their arrival, and the attendance at both the craps game and the pool hall is down by thirty-two percent.” She sighed, and Dean perked up. He almost wanted to shake the hand of anyone who could cause Bela this much distress, but this was clearly an attack on the family’s assets. “Half the shops on Arthur Street aren’t paying their fees because the Novaks have started charging them, and when I sent Ruby over to persuade them, she came back bloody and threatening to skip town.”

Dean’s smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Ruby was savage in the art of ‘persuasion,’ and he could hardly imagine anyone getting the better of her. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. A new family trying to start a war with the Winchesters? The last time that had happened, Dean was a teenager, and, much to his dismay, his parents had insisted he not be involved. He had watched helplessly from inside the Catholic boy’s school his father had shipped him to, as his people were shot in the street.

But Dean was in his thirties now, and the prospect of war looming on the horizon made him giddy with anticipation.

Mary Winchester, who had been quietly observing her husband and sons until this point, suddenly cleared her throat, which made all the men at the table sit up a little straighter. She was a fierce-looking woman with high cheekbones, a square jaw, and deep eyes, all framed by locks of cascading blonde curls. It was easy to see where her sons had gotten their charming good looks from.

She sat forward and touched her husband’s forearm gently. “Bela. While I’m sure the loss of your warehouses is devastating, no one would be foolish enough to start a war with our family.” She smiled. “And if Ruby and the girls from Rowena’s can’t handle what is being asked of them, then perhaps it is time to remind them who it is they work for. I’m sure Sam and Dean would be happy to deal with the Novaks, right boys?”

Sam nodded at his mother, and Dean could feel his excitement bubbling. He looked to his brother and saw a dark glint in his eye. The two of them together were unstoppable.

“Anything for you, mother,” Dean said, and he basked in her pride.

“Wonderful,” John said, clapping his hands together, dispelling the tension surrounding the table, and causing Bela to sink back into her seat as her concerns were dismissed. “Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold.”

The rest of the evening dissolved into easy conversation amongst the members of the meeting. Sam laughed wildly at Bobby’s account of a man who he had once held over a woodchipper for his disrespect, even though he had told the story a hundred times. Mary and John spoke quietly with Jessica about her parents and how thrilled they were that her contacts on Broadway would benefit the Winchester dynasty. Dean occupied himself by kicking Jo under the table and watching her face go from mildly irritated to genuinely annoyed as she tried to maintain a discussion with her mother about liquor importing.

When the food and wine had been consumed, John stood again and waited patiently for the conversations to cease. “Thank you all for joining us this evening.” He spoke warmly to everyone. “I trust to see you all again next month.” A chorus of murmured agreement rippled through those assembled. John raised his glass, and everyone else followed suit. “To the family.” He toasted and drained the remaining wine from his glass.

The sound of chairs scraping back from the table filled the small dining room as the Winchesters and their associates made to leave. They passed the other patrons, enjoying their meals and trying obviously not to stare as the finely dressed men and women filed out the front door, thanking Cain with handshakes and smiles as they left.

Dean stepped into the street and stretched, breathing the exhaust soaked air deeply into his lungs and once again being reminded of just how much he loved this city. A large hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder, and he turned to find his gargantuan little brother towering next to him.

“You wanna come over for a beer?” Sam asked casually.

“Nah, man, I was thinking about heading over to Lee’s,” Dean said. His head was foggy from the wine, and he needed some real liquor to bring his senses back.

Sam scowled. “You know, Dad doesn’t like you going out without protection.”

“Always keep a condom in my wallet, Sammy.” Dean winked, and Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

“That’s not what I mean.” He said. “If Bela is right and the Novaks are looking to start a war, none of us should be going anywhere alone.”

“Oh, is Sam freaking Winchester scared of a few Jersey boys?” Dean snarked at his brother, punching him in the arm playfully. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s Lee’s bar. I’m basically royalty there.”

Jessica appeared at Sam’s side and snaked her arm around his waist. She really was beautiful, far too good for his brother. Dean sometimes wished he had met her first, but he shook the thoughts from his mind. Sam was happy with Jess, and that’s what he deserved.

“Your parents invited us over to look over the blueprints of the new hotel, honey.” She said. “Dean, will you be joining us?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart, but hey, tell 'em to put one of those fancy water features in like they’ve got in Vegas,” Dean replied sarcastically.

Jess smiled at him. “You ready, Sam?”

“Uh, yeah, one second. Why don’t you go ahead with Mom and Dad? I’ll meet you at the car.” Sam said. He rubbed his hand across her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her sweetly. Jess cast one more smile at Dean before turning back down the sidewalk to where Mary and John stood waiting.

“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asked. He knew there was a reason his brother was holding him back.

Sam stepped closer to Dean and quickly looked over his shoulder before shoving his hand into his pocket and producing a small black velvet box. “I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t help myself.” He said, opening the box. Inside was a beautiful diamond engagement ring. The center stone was massive and cut into the shape of a teardrop. On each side were two smaller diamonds, surrounded by a cluster of sparkling rubies. “I’m gonna ask Jess to marry me.”

Dean laughed out loud. “Holy shit, Sam!” He blurted out loudly and pulled his brother into a hug.

“Shhh!” Sam warned. “Keep your voice down! I don’t even know if she’ll say yes.”

Dean scoffed. “Of course she’ll say yes! You two have been together, what, forever?” He grinned. “Although, if she does say no, you can tell her I’m available.”

Sam smacked him around the head, and Dean laughed. “Alright, have fun at Lee’s. Call Benny if there’s any trouble.”

Dean waved over Sam’s shoulder at John, Mary, and Jess, and gave his brother a nod before turning and heading down the dark sidewalk in the direction of Lee Webb’s bar.

Swayze’s was more than a few blocks from Cain’s place, but Dean didn’t mind the walk. He’d left his car at home after visiting Gordon this afternoon, and he enjoyed the refreshing night air against his face. The downtown lights glared into the sky through the ever-present smog rising from the city, and Dean hummed a little to himself as he walked. This was his city. The Winchesters owned these streets. He knew one day, the empire his mother and father had built would fall to him and Sam to manage, but that time was a long way off. John would never relinquish control of the family assets to his sons while he still drew breath, and without any heirs of their own to ensure the continuation of the dynasty, that was even less likely.

Dean smiled to himself, thinking of the ring currently sitting in Sam’s pocket. Jess would be an excellent addition to the family. Her parents were both high profile talent agents on Broadway with a lot of influence there and in Hollywood. There had never been a reason for the Winchesters to get into theatre, but he knew they wouldn’t turn down the opportunity if Jess said yes to Sam tonight. His smile faltered slightly. It had been a long time since Dean had been as happy as Sam was now. His last relationship had been with Lisa Braeden, and that had only lasted a few months. She had a young son, Ben, who Dean still saw on occasion, but he had left when things had started to get really serious. He wasn’t going to drag someone else’s kid into this mafioso life. It wasn’t his place.

The truth was, Dean didn’t even know if he wanted kids. He’d thought about it, sure, and his mother had been pressuring him since his mid-twenties to find a nice girl to make babies with, but Dean liked his hang-up free lifestyle. He was happy to carry out orders for his father, help the family, and maybe hustle a few out of town suckers at pool when the mood struck him. Sam was business-minded, and Dean was more than happy to allow his not-so-little little brother to take over for their father when the time came.

Dean had been so deep in his own head that he barely registered when he had arrived at Lee’s. He sat down on a barstool and scanned around the room. Dean sighed contentedly. As he had expected, the bar was devoid of anyone immediately recognizable save for Lee himself.

Dean rapped his knuckles on the bar top to get Lee’s attention. “Who do I gotta gank to get a drink around here, hey buddy?” He said as Lee tossed the towel he had been using to clean a pint glass over his shoulder and turned to Dean. His expression changed from annoyed to ecstatic when he registered who was speaking.

“Dean freaking Winchester.” Lee drawled. “It’s been a while. You too good to come see me anymore?”

Dean grinned. “Never too good for you, Lee.”

“What’ll it be? On the house.” Lee spread his arms, gesturing at the impressive selection of alcohol arranged along the wall behind him.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Dean replied. Lee nodded approvingly, selecting a bottle from the top shelf and pouring a heavy-handed three ounces into a glass. He slid it across the bar to Dean, and he took a sip, letting the liquid burn deliciously in his throat and warm him from the inside out.

“That’s good stuff.” Dean smiled as a low rasp crept into his voice.

“Only the best for you.” Lee matched his tone. “So, what brings you out tonight?”

“Dinner with the family,” Dean replied noncommittally.

“Yeah, you always did hate those.” Lee whipped the towel off his shoulder and picked up another glass, wiping the water from around the rim. “Anything exciting?”

“No, just business as usual. Bela is being a bitch, Bobby’s still telling the same stories he has for the past 20 years…” He paused before taking another sip of his drink. “Oh, and uh, Sammy’s gonna ask Jess to marry him.”

“No shit!” Lee said, his eyebrows rising in mild surprise. “I’d say that’s pretty exciting.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time coming.” Dean chuckled into his glass. “Never seen anybody as happy as those two. Kind of a miracle she hasn’t killed him yet with what a pain in the ass he can be.”

“Ah, you’re only saying that cuz he’s your brother.” Lee laughed.

“Yeah, well, brother or not, he’s still a giant pain.” Dean downed the rest of his drink and tapped the rim for a refill. Lee shook his head but complied.

“You feeling a little jealous there, buddy?” Lee smiled devilishly at him as he set the bottle down on the bar top.

Dean chuckled darkly. “Nothing to be jealous of. I’ve got my life, my health, my family,” he grinned at Lee over the rim of his glass. “And a buddy with a bar. What more could a guy need?”

Lee shook his head but said nothing. Dean appreciated the silence that fell immensely.

The sudden clatter of a barstool hitting the floor drew Dean’s attention to the opposite end of the bar. Two men stood chest to chest, shoving each other back and forth.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?!” One of them exclaimed.

“What’s my problem? What the hell is your problem?!” The other responded, punctuating his words with a shove to the man’s shoulders.

“Hey!” Lee shouted. “Take it outside, boys.”

“Yeah, some of us just wanna drink in peace,” Dean said.

“What the fuck did you just say?” One of the men said to Dean. Having found a common enemy in him, the two men turned towards Dean’s seat and advanced. He drew in a breath, immediately regretting his decision to speak up. They were both much larger than him by a wide margin, and Dean couldn’t help but think to himself ruefully that maybe Sam was right about needing protection.

As he balled his fists, ready to start swinging, he felt someone step into the space at his side.

“I believe both of these fine gentlemen just politely told you inbred walnuts to get lost.” The voice that spoke was low and gravelly, and Dean felt his stomach flip a little at the sound of it. He turned his head to identify the stranger and was met by a tan trenchcoat.

His eyes travelled upwards to the man’s face, and Dean felt his stomach do another small flip. A strong jawline covered in light stubble, slightly chapped pink lips, and tousled black hair were Dean’s first indications that the man suddenly standing next to him was unfamiliar. When the man cocked his head slightly, Dean caught his eye and felt his breath hitch in his chest. Framed by thick, dark eyelashes were a pair of icy blue eyes that Dean very quickly found himself staring at. He looked away as soon as he realized because, as much as he would have loved to stare, the two aggressively drunk men in front of him posed a much more immediate problem.

Returning his attention to them, Dean rose from his seat and drained the remaining liquid from his glass, vaguely registering that Lee had also rounded the bar and was standing behind him.

“Well, fellas. Looks like it’s two against three.” Dean said, gesturing at Lee and the stranger. “Not that I don’t like those odds being in my favour and all, but I’ll give you a chance to walk away before this gets too outta hand.” He heard Lee crack his knuckles and grinned. There was no one in this world Dean would rather have in his corner for a fight than Lee Webb, except maybe Sam.

The two men in front of him hesitated slightly before one of them let out a yell and charged towards Dean.

He reacted in an instant, ducking below the man’s outstretched arms and coming up under his knees to flip him over his back towards Lee. He heard the man hit the ground with a thud as Lee reached down and heaved him back up into the edge of the bar. Dean turned just in time to see the other man following his partner towards him, arms reaching out like some great ape. He didn’t have the forewarning or space to execute the same move, and so he simply ducked out of reach. As the man’s arms closed above his head, he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist colliding with a nose as the cartilage and bone crunched under the force. Glancing to his right, he saw the trenchcoated stranger land a blow directly into the second assailant’s face and smiled to himself. Not bad, he thought.

As the ape staggered back, clutching his now broken nose, blood streaming down between his fingers, Dean stood up and grabbed the man by his shirt. Together, he and Lee shoved the two towards the bar’s door and unceremoniously tossed them into the street.

“Don’t let me catch you goons in here again,” Lee shouted as they took off quickly down the alley.

Dean watched them go and shook his head ruefully. Even at Lee’s, trouble managed to find him. He looked to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Lee said, brushing him off. “Guys like that aren’t a problem. You and I both know I’ve fought worse.”

Dean laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.” They turned to go back inside, and Dean spied the mysterious stranger as he picked up a stool that had fallen over in the scuffle, cradling his right hand against his chest.

“Hey,” Dean called out to him. The man looked up at Dean, and he was pierced by the full intensity of his stare. Those blue eyes, which before had been icy and cold with adrenaline, were now pools of deep ocean blue, and Dean once again felt himself beginning to drown in them. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was quickly forming there. “Um, thanks. For that. You, uh, you didn’t have to get involved. Lee and I could have handled it.”

Way to sound ungrateful, Winchester, he kicked himself internally.

The stranger cocked his head to the side as he stared at Dean, his eyebrows knitted together in the most perplexing stare Dean had ever seen. Lee walked up next to him. “Lemme get you some ice for your hand. If that dude’s skull is as thick as it looked, you’re probably hurting pretty bad.” He walked behind the bar and began filling a small bag with ice. “Oh, and your next drink is on me. Dean may not know how to actually say thank you but, we aren’t all as uncivilized.”

Dean felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he sat back in his seat, and Lee refilled his glass, adding a second one for their new friend. “Thank you.” The man said, taking the bag of ice and placing it over his knuckles. He took a small sip of his drink and set it back on the bar top.

Dean shook himself and realized the man was still staring at him, and being under his scrutinizing eyes made Dean fidget uncomfortably. He cleared his throat again. “So, uh, you got a name?” He asked. Then, because Dean was not one to relinquish the upper hand, he plastered on his charming Winchester smile and said, “Or am I just supposed to call you handsome?”

A small smile lifted the corners of the man’s lips as he extended his uninjured hand for Dean to shake.

“Novak.” He said, and Dean felt the colour immediately drain from his face.

“My name is Castiel Novak.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Acting Your Age: Three Months

Summary: Three months after the birth of their first child, the reader is having a hard time with all of the new and old stresses that come with it...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 5,200ish

Warnings: language, slight flangst, age gap, implied smut

________

“Well aren’t you adorable,” said Jensen to Reese, fast asleep in her car seat in the back of your car. “Yes you are. I missed-”

“Do not wake her up or I swear on my life you are never getting sex again,” you said, yanking the grocery bags out of the trunk. He stood up and frowned.

“I know my flight was late but-”

“But what?” you said, shutting the trunk, Reese waking up and starting to cry. You scrunched up your face and went inside with the bags, Jensen carrying Reese in her seat inside, unbuckling her after a moment as you started to put things away in the kitchen.

“Shh,” he cooed her, narrowing his eyes at you. “Mommy didn’t mean to be loud.”

You finished quickly and washed your hands before you went to your bedroom and shut the door. Jensen entered after a moment, Reese calmed down and asleep on his shoulder.

“What is going on with you?” he asked. “Are you sleep-deprived or something? We talked about this before the baby. We gotta talk and take turns when one of us is too tired.”

“Leave me alone. There’s milk in the fridge if she needs it,” you said. You quickly left the room and went outside, going to the patio by the pool and sitting up on the stone wall. You tucked your head between your knees and let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t long before you were crying hard, gripping your legs tight.

You weren’t sure how long it was before you felt Jensen sit behind you and wrap you up in his arms.

“Kiddo. Talk to me,” he said. “This is not normal for you.”

“You can’t leave Reese up there-”

“Gen came and took her for the afternoon,” he said. “Now what’s wrong?”

“I can’t even take care of my own daughter,” you cried. “I’m some stupid money hungry-”

“Whoa, whoa. Were you looking at internet comments again?” he asked.

“Some woman came up to me in the grocery store and she said some stuff,” you said.

“Did you tell her off?” he asked. “Please tell me you told her off.”

“No because she was right. I’m a horrible mother and…” you hiccuped. “You don’t love me and that’s okay. I know the baby-”

“You are incredible and wonderful and an amazing mother and wife and best friend. I’ve never loved anyone as much aside from Reese,” he said. You lifted your head up and let him spin you around, his palms wiping off your cheeks. “I want us to go talk to someone.”

“Jensen-”

“You’ve been a little off since Reese was born and it’s getting worse, not better. Can we please go talk to someone? Maybe it’s hormones or postpartum or maybe it’s something else. I miss my best friend and I’ve done a shitty job of taking care of her lately. Please, let me help you,” he said. “Don’t make me beg, kiddo.”

“Alright. I’ll go,” you said quietly. You rested your head against his chest and he ran his hand up and down your back. “Will you come?”

“Of course, honey. We’ll see if we can get you in somewhere this week to figure out how to get you feeling better again.”

“As far as the baby goes, that’s it?” asked Dr. Ash the next day. You nodded, his head doing the same for a moment. “Please feel free to consult a medical doctor as well but I don’t believe you have postpartum depression.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. Jensen slid his hand across the couch and held your hand. “I don’t think you have any kind of depression actually.”

“Is it seasonal? I know I can get seasonal sometimes in the winter,” said Jensen. You turned your head and stared at him.

“I didn’t know that,” you said.

“Well the first year we were together I didn’t get it, I don’t always, and last year with the baby coming soon, I didn’t even have time to think about it,” he said. “It’s definitely not a constant or a sure thing even. I wasn’t hiding it from you.”

“So what’s wrong with me,” you said quietly, looking back at Ash.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. My professional opinion is that you’re under stress as a new mother and any kind of thick skin you’d developed before to bullying isn’t there right now. You’re in a vulnerable state which is completely normal. Your personal situation however isn’t,” he said.

“I’m not following,” said Jensen. “I don’t bully my wife.”

“I didn’t say you did. However, these internet comments can be harmful if you give them that ability. The incident at the grocery store likely just worsened those feelings,” he said.

“The comments never bothered me before,” you said. Jensen squeezed your hand and he gave you a half-smile.

“They did at the beginning. I know it did. Maybe Ash has a point. Being a new mom is stressful. I know how stressful being a dad is for the first time. Add that to all the other crap we go through? The constant jabs for the age difference. The comments about you, about me, our careers, this, that, the other thing. Maybe it’s too much right now is all,” he said.

“So I’m weaker than I used to be,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I don’t think anyone is saying that,” said Ash. “Bullying mixed with the stress of being a new parent along with a physical confrontation...I think you’re going through a rough time right now is all.”

“How do I fix it?” you asked.

“Avoid social media,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“I’m self-employed. I run my own design firm. I need to use social media,” you said.

“Fine but no looking at comments, either one of you. I also want you to get out of the habit of accepting this bullying behavior as normal. It’s not. These people are strangers. Don’t give them that power. Ignore it and stand up for yourself if it becomes necessary. You don’t deserve it. Do not listen to strangers either about your parenting choices. Your family will help you. Understand?”

“I understand,” you said, taking a deep breath before you looked at Jensen. “I know you love me. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“I do love you, kiddo and don’t apologize. It was a bad day. We’ve survived them before,” he said. “Now that we have a better idea of what’s going on, let’s see if it helps, honey.”

“Reese,” you said the next afternoon, watching her giggle as she knocked her empty formula bottle on the floor, Jensen bending over and picking it up. “Are you misbehaving young lady?”

“She’s an Ackles. Of course she’s misbehaving,” he teased, picking her up out of her high chair and patting her back, a quiet burp leaving her. “Oh, hey. I talked to mom about the party this weekend. I told her we were thinking of skipping. We’re all pretty wiped.”

“Are you sure? It’s your family reunion. You guys only do it every five years,” you said as you cleaned up after dinner.

“I don’t need to see the whole gigantic ass family. We’ll see my actually family this year in a few weeks for Christmas. I can’t believe we agreed to host,” he chuckled.

“Well it did make it easier with my family being closer to home so they can come up too. Also, we can totally go to the reunion. It’s one Saturday and you’re done filming for the year and my last project wrapped up. We got the time,” you said. “Besides you know everyone wants to meet Reese.”

“I don’t want to share her with anybody but you,” he said, his voice high as he looked at Reese, a giggle escaping her again. “You just want mommy and daddy, huh?”

A little howl alerted you to Dean at his feet, wagging his tail.

“We couldn’t forget Dean,” said Jensen, Dean staring up at Reese. “I got guard duty, little guy. Why don’t you relax?”

He proceeded to follow Jensen around as he burped Reese, Jensen chuckling as he finally set her down in her basinet. Dean settled next to her on the floor and Jensen patted his head.

“Alright, alright. We can share, baby,” he said, Dean laying down and snoring quickly.

“They’re cute,” you said, a soft smile on your face as Jensen slid around behind you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin.

“I love you,” you said. You turned your head back and he gave you a kiss. 

“Come to bed,” he said. You hummed and started to head over to the bassinet but he curled you back into his chest. “Not sleep. Bed.”

“Sex?” you blushed, Jensen smirking when he caught it. “We haven’t...since Reese was born…”

“I want to see my smoking hot wife in all her naked glory,” he said. You stared at him and burst out laughing, Jensen pouting and grabbing your hips gently. “Oh, you think I’m joking?”

“I think you’re a master of seduction,” you teased, laughing a little. “If you need to get off, I’m happy to oblige but we don’t need to have sex to do that.”

“Oh, we definitely need to have sex. See, I need to tell you how beautiful you are, make you see how gorgeous you are,” he said, brushing his lips over your ear, a shiver running up your spine. “Remember when we had sex on your brother’s couch? How much fun that was? We were both nervous then but we did it.”

“You want to have sex on our couch?” you chuckled.

“I want to see that cocky, flirty girl that put me in my place because she was nervous. The girl I thought was so pretty, the girl who looked at me like I was something to be devoured. Honey, I want to devour you. God, I want to devour you so bad. You are perfect,” he said.

“...So no sex on the couch?” you asked, smirking at him.

“Are you toying with me, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes already a few shades darker.

“Why ever would I do that,” you teased, walking past him and smacking his ass. “You’re so on bottom.”

“I got it,” said Jensen on Saturday morning as he pulled on the diaper bag backpack and grabbed your other one from the trunk. You carried Reese on your hip up to Jensen’s parents house, walking inside and immediately finding his dad standing there.

“There she is!” he said, taking Reese out of your hands. “You’re so cute!”

“Well isn’t that adorable,” teased Jensen.

“You’re grounded.”

“I’m an adult! Who no longer lives here,” said Jensen. “I made the literal baby you are holding.”

“To be fair you could have done that once you hit puberty,” he said. Jensen stared at him and you bit back your smile. “Got her.”

“You two together are horrible,” he said, shaking his head as he headed for the kitchen.

“She sleeping through the night?” asked his dad.

“Mostly,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Sometimes. When she feels like it.”

“Go rest, kiddo,” he said, running his hand over the top of your head. “You look tired.”

“She’s due to be fed and-”

“And I raised three of my own and have other grandchildren. Go on. Take Jensen with you. Have a nap, that’s an order,” he said as he gave you a side hug.

“Thanks, Alan,” you said, returning it with a smile. You moved to head upstairs when he caught your hand.

“You okay?” he asked. You stared at him and saw Jensen return sans the baby bags, looking between you. 

“You tell your dad?” you asked.

“I was worried. I thought it was baby stuff I didn’t understand at first,” he said. 

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m a little stressed right now and should avoid the internet’s comments about what kind of mother I am is all.”

“Well the first kid is the hardest,” he said, wrapping his arms around Reese. “I know you two keep those kinds of other things away from us but I know not everyone’s been as kind to Y/N as they should be. Try to ignore them, sweetie. You two are miles ahead of where we were at your age,” he said.

“My age or hers?” asked Jensen.

“It’s an expression, Jay. Call us up more often. We’ll come down to help out,” he said. “You especially when Jensen’s out of town.”

“We know. We’ll ask for help more,” you said, grabbing Jensen’s hand. “Let’s take a quick nap, babe.”

He followed you upstairs to his old room, the two of you plopping down on the bed with a sigh.

“God, this feels good,” he moaned.

“Sleep is the new sexy,” you teased, Jensen peeling open his eyes. “Wasn’t that some kind of promo thing when Supernatural first came out?”

“Scary is the new sexy,” he chuckled. “Oh, how young and naive I was.”

“You were my age!” you said.

“Well, girls mature faster,” he teased, curling his arm over your waist. “Enjoy being young and naive before you turn into this.”

“Before I age like the finest freaking wine there ever was?” you said, dancing a finger over his chest. “You think I’m naive?”

“No, kiddo. I was teasing. I mean maybe...maybe you still see the best in people and have hope for people even when odds are they’ll end up letting you down. Life hasn’t taken that from you yet. I don’t call that naive. Some people might but I don’t. I just call it good.”

“I’m pretty sure what you described is naive, Jens,” you said, tracing your finger over his pecs and drawing shapes. He took your hand and pressed it over his heart.

“If you’re naive then I’m a love struck teenage boy who is head over heels in love with the gorgeous woman laying in his childhood bed with him,” he said.

“None of that sentence made sense,” you said.

“I’m saying, be who you are, who you want to be. I remember the sad girl by the pool and I’m sure you remember the sad boy. What’d I tell you that night?”

“I should be myself,” you said quietly. You gripped his shirt tight and scooted closer. “I know you weren’t exactly happy back then either. I know you pretended a lot to the outside world but Jared and Gen knew how you really felt.”

“You get to be a certain age and you feel like you screwed up, that you ran out of time. Then some dork walks into your life and shows you how wrong you are,” he said, kissing your nose.

“Jensen. I know you focus on me a lot and I appreciate that, I do. But-“

“You do that for me too, kiddo,” he said.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“I don’t little spoon for just anyone,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours. “I know I’m still shut off sometimes. I think it’s just how I’m built. But after Reese, something changed and I don’t feel like doing that anymore. I love my girls and I hope they know it.”

“We know it,” you said, scooting closer. “We love you too.”

You pressed your lips against his, sliding your hand to the back of his head, rubbing your fingers through his short strands.

“You are so unbelievably attractive,” you said, his hand sliding to your hip and pushing your sweatshirt up some.

“I never made it past first base in high school,” he said.

“Me either,” you said. “You were out in LA when you finally did it right?”

“Mhm. You had that lovely boyfriend that cheated with your roommate, right?” he said.

“God, he was such a douche. Both of them were,” you said. “No talking about shitty exes.”

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked, kissing your jawline.

“What would teenage you do if he had me in this position right here, right now?” you asked.

“Oh, I definitely wouldn’t have had the guts to do what I’m about to do,” he chuckled. “Especially when my parents are home.”

“Think you’re getting past first base?” you asked as you sat up. He went with you, glancing past you to the door. He put on a cocky smile and stood, going to it and cracking it open a little. He walked back over and lay over you, nipping at your neck. “Jensen. Oh my God. Your parents are gonna hear us!”

“My parents are downstairs and we have the next twenty minutes completely to ourselves,” he said. “Come on. I dare you.”

“Yup. Definitely still randier than a teenage boy,” you giggled as he brushed his lips over yours. 

“Shh. We are so not gonna wanna get caught doing this.”

“Hey mom, you need help with anything?” asked Jensen when you both went back downstairs half an hour later.

“No. Your brother came over early to help out,” she said, Josh and his dad cutting in through the back door. 

“Hello, Jensen,” he smirked as he walked past and towards the kitchen. 

“Oh don’t be smug,” said their dad. You tilted your head while Jensen swallowed. “The table?”

“Yes. The table,” said Jensen, leaning over to you. “I have zero idea what’s going on.”

“Yeah, Jensen. The table. I can believe you put it back in the garage so poorly after Easter,” said Josh. “It took us forever to get out.”

“Right,” said Jensen, his dad going over to Reese again to play with her. Josh smiled as he wandered over, getting in close.

“If you two are going to do the horizontal tango, shut the door. I saved your asses. Twice,” mumbled Josh.

“We even for the hockey stick incident now?” asked Jensen.

“Nah. You can still hold that one over me,” he smirked. “Been there before is all.”

“You?” mumbled Jensen and he nodded. “No way. You’re more goodie two shoes than I am.”

“What’s the big secret?” asked his dad as walked over and he handed Reese over to you. 

“Nothing,” you all said at once, glancing at one another.

“Mhm. You two fighting again?” he asked, looking at you and Josh.

“Dad,” said Josh, frowning at him. “No. Y/N and I worked that out a long time ago.”

“Alright, alright. Just a concerned father but you know, whatever,” he said. “Now you two boys help me finish setting up the backyard before the rest of the nutjobs get here.”

“You know, having a baby is a great way to get away from these crazies,” said Jensen a few hours later. You slapped his arm as you carried Reese up to his old room. You set her down in her pack and play Jensen had brought in, Jensen running a hand over her head. “The monitor on?” 

“Mhm,” you said, handing him the other device. “You want me to get it?”

“Nah. You were up with her last night,” he said. You pulled the door shut some after yourselves, Jensen throwing his arm over your shoulders as you headed back to the party. “Let’s make another one.”

“Two? I thought you only wanted the one,” you said.

“Yeah but you wanted three and I’d like Reese to have a little sibling she could look out for and making babies with you is so much fun,” he said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “It is so much fun.”

“Let’s revisit this when she’s a year old. How’s that sound?” you asked.

“Good to me,” he said. He grabbed a pair of beers from your cooler and soon you were out in the backyard again being introduced to people Jensen couldn’t even remember sometimes.

“Jens, Kenzie,” said Jensen’s mom when you were talking to some of her cousins. Jensen and his sister spun around. “Can you help in the kitchen a minute?”

You turned to go with them but she waved you off.

“I only need two pairs of hands,” she said as she headed back inside.

“So do you act with Jensen?” asked the guy you’d been standing with, Bob. At least you thought his name was Bob.

“No, no. I’m an interior designer. I wouldn’t be caught dead in front of a camera,” you said. “I do a few things with the brewery and bed & breakfast too. But definitely no acting.”

“How’d you guys meet?” he asked.

“My brother was Jensen’s costar on their show. We met at a family party after the show was over and all that. We became friends and hit it off,” you said.

“But you knew about him,” he said. “I mean, that he existed.”

“I guess. I wasn’t close with my family back then. I’m the young one. I’ve never even seen the show,” you said. “I just knew he worked with my brother and was one of his best friends.”

“I’m guessing there was no pre-nup,” he said.

“No, there wasn’t, not that it’s anyone’s business,” you said. He looked you up and down while you narrowed your eyes. You almost said more when another one of the cousins came over.

“Hey, it’s the preschooler,” he chuckled.

“Excuse me?” you said.

“Wow. Everyone knows what you’re up to kid. No need to get defensive,” said Vince.

“What exactly am I up to?” you said, lifting your chin.

“Sleeping with him for that gravy train,” he said. “The kid was a good move. That’ll keep him for years at-“

You nearly slapped him when Josh was suddenly at your side and grabbing your arm.

“Inside,” he said. You looked up at him and saw his face change. He dropped your hand and spun around. “Leave. Now.”

“Leave? We just got here,” said Bob.

“Yeah and that’s my little sister you’re talking about. You know what you’re saying about Jensen too when you say those things?” he said. “Do you?”

“You mean the little celebrity?” laughed Vince. “You’ve seen your brother. Seriously. He started out doing the same thing.”

“Josh,” you said, grabbing his arm when his face went red. You almost had him walked away when you heard one more comment that made your skin crawl. You spun around, coming face to face with your father in law, the backyard silent.

“You two in the house now,” he said, a strange calmness to him.

You swallowed. You’d never heard him like that before and quickly went inside with Josh, avoiding the looks you’d gotten and slipping into the kitchen.

“What is going on?” asked Jensen when he saw you. You closed your eyes and Josh sighed.

“Some of mom’s cousins-“ started Josh but you shook your head. You didn’t want Jensen ever hearing what they said. “They said some not so nice stuff about you and Y/N.”

“What kind of stuff,” he said, looking at you. “Y/N.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, Jensen looking past you out at the backyard. “Josh stood up for me and your dad’s telling them off. Don’t-”

“The internet and strangers are one thing but people fucking related to us?” he said, his mom tsking him. “No mom. This is fucking serious.”

“Calm down all of you,” said his dad as he came inside. “Kids in the den.”

“We are not children anymore,” said Jensen.

“Den.”

You grabbed his hand and went with him and his brother and sister into the side den, Mackenzie closing the door.

“They used to do this when we were in trouble,” she said. “Who-”

“The shit for brain idiots, Bob and Vince. Who’d you think,” said Josh.

“Could one of you two please tell me what they said?” asked Jensen as he sat on the couch. “Please?”

“They didn’t say a damn thing you haven’t read on the internet before. Y/N and I could have taken them,” said Josh.

“Are you okay?” asked Jensen. You nodded and gave him a smile. “You sure?”

“I was a little upset but I was about to slap the one in the face when Josh showed up. He called me his little sister,” you said.

“You used to not trust her you know,” said Jensen. 

“I didn’t either,” said Mackenzie. You glanced over to her, watching her look at her lap. “You got rid of those doubts very quickly for me, for the rest of us. You were terrified that Thanksgiving. We know our brother is different than us. We wanted someone to be with him because they liked him was all.”

“He’s important to me,” you said.

“We were at the wedding. We know,” said Josh. You nodded and looked down, Jensen sighing.

“Was it her age?” he asked. “Kenz?”

“Yes.”

“What exactly made you change your mind?” asked Jensen.

“I know you three had a big fight that night. When you finally came back and joined the campfire, I saw how she was trying to bury herself in your side. She had her hood up I remember,” she said.

“When she was crying?” asked Josh.

“I didn’t know you were crying,” said Jensen.

“I thought I’d hid it,” you said.

“We all saw,” she said. “You weren’t faking. After that we knew you really cared about Jensen.”

“You guys could have just talked to her you know,” said Jensen.

“Guys. It’s okay. I know this was not normal at first but we all care about each other. Some stupid relatives made some stupid comments. I don’t care about them. I care about the people here and our actual family. Screw the rest,” you said.

“Agreed,” said Jensen.

“Alright,” said their mom when the door opened. “Bob and Vince are gone and they aren’t welcome back.”

“Mom-“

“Jensen. It’s the end of it,” she said. He grumbled and crossed his arms. “Come feed Reese. She sounds like she’s hungry again.”

“Fine,” he mumbled as he stood and left. You scratched your head as Donna came in and took a seat next to you.

“I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t apologize for other people,” you said.

“I was going to say I’m sorry you never seem to catch a break on this,” she said.

“I knew what I signed up for,” you said, giving her a smile. “I’m okay. I just want to check on Jensen and Reese.”

You left and found him upstairs with her in his room, Reese looking up at the awards on the wall.

“Hey,” you said, tickling her chest. “Daddy was so good at baseball, wasn’t he?”

“I’ll never understand why people are mean for no reason,” he said quietly.

“Those two bimbos were obviously jealous of how successful you are,” you said. 

“I can never seem to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“Yeah but I want to. It’s my job. You were feeling better this week and then-“

“Then nothing,” you said. “Babe, your parents got rid of them and your brother was there for me and those people, the ones you actually care about, they’re the ones that helped me.”

“I know,” he said, leaning his head against Reese’s. “Just been a rough week.”

“Let’s enjoy the rest of the party then and we’ll have a lazy day tomorrow. I promise.”

“Hello cutie,” said Jared the next day back at home, bopping Reese’s nose with his own. “You are so lucky you didn’t get any of your daddy’s ugly genes.”

“It could be worse than that. She could look like you,” said Jensen.

“As if she could be more beautiful,” said Jared.

“Losers,” said Gen from the counter.

“You two dorks were so excited after the wedding being all ‘we’re brothers!’ and I swear they’ve gotten worse since then,” you said, Odette chasing Dean around.

“Wait until the kid moves like that,” chuckled Jared. “Also we are so not-“

“Like a pair of five year olds,” said Gen, taking a sip from her beer. “We should take more lazy Sundays. This should be a thing.”

“I’m cool with that,” said Jensen, plopping down on the couch. “Where’s my hot wife?”

“She’s literally disgusting,” said Jared.

“Your face is disgusting,” you said as you sat down on the edge of the couch and wrapped your arms around Jensen.

“Your face is disgusting,” said Jared, setting Reese down on Jensen’s chest. “See? Now it’s not disgusting.”

“Be nice to your sister, Jare,” said Jensen.

“Yeah yeah,” he said, picking Reese back up. “And because I’m so nice, I’m gonna make some snacks with this cutie for her very tired mommy and daddy while they take a nap.”

“We’re okay,” you said, peeling away from Jensen.

“We got it. Seriously. Go unwind,” said Jared. 

“Don’t have to tell us twice,” said Jensen.

Two minutes later you were both in bed and the lights were off, Jensen wrapping himself all around you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Jens.”

“Y/N.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you think about what we talked about on the way home yesterday?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“Any decisions?”

“Mhm.”

“Going to keep me in suspense?” he asked.

“I want you to keep working as much as you want to. Always. No matter how many kids it ends up being,” you said. “I will call in the troops more often and stay away from Instagram comments. I’ll still post but I’m just gonna ignore it all and focus on what matters.”

“Sounds good, kiddo,” he said, closing his eyes. “Sleep contest?”

“You’re on, Ackles.”

_______

[sapphirelass]

What family is all about - Weasley FamilyxWeasley!Sister

Hiiiiiii!!! It’s... been a while. Again. Let’s face it, I’ll never be able to post as often as I’d like. I just don’t like rushing stuff, or posting anything I’m not happy with, so...

Anyhow, I LOVED writing for the Weasley family, and I’ll most likely do it again soon. Bill and Charlie are both underrated characters in my opinion and I had a ton of fun letting them ‘shine’ (despite this being a sort of sad story, but that always seems to be where I end up... XD)

Also, I might have to edit this once more, but it’s late, I have not posted in about two weeks and I just want to go to sleep XD That being said, take it for what it is, and I’ll try to correct any grammatical errors later. Good night! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2800 (they just keep getting longer, don’t they? XD)

Warnings: Light swearing, blood, angst

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s what family is all about 

“How big did his tongue get?”

“It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!”

The sound of laughter was heard from the kitchen as Elwira Weasley entered her childhood home. She worked as an arithmancer, and had been stationed at a research-facility in the northern parts of Sweden for the past few years. Her work took up most of her time, but she had just travelled home to go see the quidditch final with her dad, older brother Bill, twin brother Charlie and all their younger siblings.

“It isn’t funny”, her dad shouted. “That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of muggles, and my own sons-”

“Are just a wee bit too daft to understand that!”

She walked through the door and found her entire family, plus two other people she didn’t know, all sitting or standing around the kitchen table.

“Ellie?!”

Her older brother and twin, with whom she had always been extremely close, both made their way across the room and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

“Blimey! ‘ello Bill, hey Charlie! Long time no see, huh?”

“Certainly!”, their mother exclaimed while pushing the two oldest sons to the side as she tried to get a good look at her grown-up daughter. “Not a single visit since Christmas, Elwira Weasley, we’ve had to do with owls for six months?!”

“Sorry, mum, there’s been a lot of work to do… I thought I’d stay for the rest of the summer though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, dear! Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I’m famished!”

Mrs Weasley went off to get another plate, and Ellie, after greeting everyone and being introduced to Harry and Hermione, took a seat between her dad and youngest brother.

“So Ronald? Had a good term?”

“Err.. Sure? Nothing interesting except for the stuff I wrote to you about, though.”

“Well you’re going into your fourth year now - almost halfway through!” She paused for a moment and turned to her father. “You good dad? You seem a bit… tense?”

Arthur looked up from his plate and sent his daughter a kind smile.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Hosting the world cup comes with a great deal of problems all with the need to be solved. Admittedly, it’s not really part of my job, but the entire ministry becomes quite chaotic when something like that is days away. I’m a bit stressed, that’s all. How are things up in Scandinavia?”

“They’re… somewhat slow to be honest. There’s so much work to do between like October and February, but in the summer it’s mostly filing and other boring bits of paperwork.”

“Elwira?”, Hermione asked. “Sorry, I’m just curious, what is it that you do? Ron’s never told us…”

“That’s probably cause Ron doesn’t understand what I’m doing”, she smirked, “but of course, I work with, and study, arithmancy which, as you might know, is part of what’s called ‘natural magic’.”

“Great!”, mumbled Ron quietly, making sure only his friends and older sister heard. “Hermione, there are four rules in this house, okay? One: Don’t ask Charlie about dragons, Two: Don’t ask Percy about anything, Three: Don’t ask dad about muggles, and Four: Don’t ask Ellie about her job. Break either and you’ll be stuck listening to a five hour lecture.”

 Hermione didn’t seem to be bored though, so Ellie ignored her brother’s comment and continued. 

“It’s the type of magic that has been studied and worshiped since ancient times and has a very strong connection with nature. The natural phenomena with the strongest affiliation with magic is, while they in themselves have what the muggles would call a ‘scientific explanation’, the northern lights. Meaning it’s only when they’re visible that we can make any significant progress.”

Ellie paused and glanced at the younger girl, trying to see whether she had caught on or not, and was happy when realizing that she had.

“And... “, questioned Hermione, “the northern lights are only visible north of the polar circle and b-”

“Between September and March, exactly… Meaning there’s sadly not that much advanced research that can be done during the rest of the year…”

“It’s still a fascinating subject though. I only started last year, but I love it.”

“I’m glad! At least some people appreciate the wonderful art that is arithmancy, Ronald!”

Ron looked up at the mention of his name and met his sister’s gaze. 

“I just don’t find it interesting”, he said.  

“Right, because you ha-”

Ellie didn’t get to finish her sentence before being interrupted by her twin brother.

“Hey, Ellie? Must have been fun watching the Nordic versus Germany, huh?”

“Oh shut up, Charlie!”, she groaned while putting her head in her hands. “Holy Merlin…” The Nordic National Quidditch team, of which she had become a huge supporter in the last few years, had suffered a HORRENDOUS loss against Germany, and it had certainly not been a fun night. 

Her brother, however, did not shut up, but instead burst out laughing.  

“Charlie, it’s not funny!! You should have been there though… You’d have done a much better job than the stand-in seeker we had.”

“What were the results again? 700-20?”

“... 520 actually”

“520 to??”, Bill said mockingly

“You’re idiots both of you… 520-0, happy now?”

Ellie hadn’t realized that everyone else around the table had been listening in on their conversation, but was made aware when Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Arthur began laughing loudly.

“Why is this so funny to everyone? England lost badly too, and neither Romania nor Egypt even qualified to compete?!”

“Yeah...”, began Fred.

“But none of them lost with 520 points.”, finished George, earning himself a furious look from his older sister who stood up and shook her head.

“I’ll go see if mum needs any help…”

~~~~~~

Ellie loved her family, and therefore all her slightly annoying brothers, beyond everything, but being away from them for months and then meeting them all at the same time was TIRING! Having no desire to sleep through the world cup, she decided to go to bed early the night before, and she had barely closed her eyes before she fell asleep...

~~~~~~

“3, 2 ‘shhhh, quiet!”

Ellie took notice of the obnoxiously loud whispers, but it wasn’t enough to fully wake her up.

“We’ve got one more chance, 3, 2, 1, ELLIE!!!!”

She woke up instantly and sent a blast of blue sparks towards her older brother, barely missing him by an inch.

“What ‘ru doing, El? You can’t just go attacking people?!”

He tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, a heartwarming laugh escaping his mouth.

“You bloody idiots?! Why’d you scare me like that? You’re 21 and 23, not five?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Do you remember-”

“Yes, I do!”. She rubbed her eyes slowly, “‘85, look can you two please let me sleep?”

“Sorry, sis”, said Bill. “We’re leaving in half an hour. The kids and dad left ages ago.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late do you? Not when you can cheer for a team that might not loo-”

“Charlie, I swear!”

~~~~~~

The match was fantastic! Ellie would never admit it to her brothers, but it was nice to watch an even one for once. Watching and cheering with her family brought back fond memories of childhood games at the Burrow or Hogwarts, and she realized just how much she had missed actually playing. They stayed up late discussing players and tactics, but eventually their father ushered them all off to bed. 

~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

“Ellie??”

She stirred slightly and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.

“Ellie! Damn it, wake up!”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw her twin brother bent above her. The sight made her sigh.

“Charlie”, she mumbled. “We see each other once- or twice a year nowadays, do you really feel obligated to wake me up every time you get the chance?”

“Elwira, I’m serious! Get up!”

This caught her attention. Sure, the twins often used their full names when messing with each other, but it didn’t sound like Charlie was joking at all. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly.

“What’s going on? Wha- Charlie? It’s still dark out? Why’d yo-”

“Ellie, c’mon. We have to help dad. Someone’s attacking the muggles.”

He threw his sister a jacket and pulled her out of the tent. Arthur, Bill and Percy were all waiting outside.

“Dad?”, she asked. “What’s happening? Charlie sai-”

“We’ve got to help the ministry!”, he said while frantically trying to count everyone and make sure they were there. “Fred, George, you make sure the others are safe. Go wait in the woods and I’ll come for you when the situation’s under control. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ellie, let’s see if there’s something we can do.”

Nobody questioned Mr Weasley’s instructions, and immediately left in different directions. There were people everywhere though, and the two directions quickly became three, four, six. Spells and curses were fired left, right and centre and Ellie found herself disarming and stunning at least a few death eaters. There weren’t that many of them, roughly thirty or so, but the insane amount of witches and wizards fleeing the campsite made it difficult to fight back. She couldn’t risk hitting any random bloke.

While duelling a tall man in a black mask, Ellie suddenly stumbled forward, a particularly nasty curse having hit her straight in the back. Falling to the ground felt way more painful than it should have, and her wand landed well beyond her reach. She groaned as a burning pain spread through her lower back, but made an effort to get back up anyways. She did, however, not make it very far before the sharp end of a wand dug into her throat.

The death eater behind her sniggered and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt.

“Well, well, well… Why’re you trying to ruin our fun?”

He stood way too close for comfort and Ellie felt his breath on her neck. She tried to answer, but the curse that was shot at her must have hit its intended target, as all that came out when she opened her mouth was a strained cough and warm blood.

The bloke holding her let out a dark chuckle and threw her to the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open, and a thick, red liquid oozed from the wound in her back.

“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?”

Ellie lacked the strength to fight back, and to the death eaters that seemed to take all the fun out of the situation. They set off back towards the campsite, leaving Ellie on the ground next to a few pines. She tried her very best to sit up, but ended up passing out…

~~~~~~

“Charlie?!”

Bill ran up to his younger brother and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug.

“Charlie, you okay? We’ve got to get back to the tent. Where’s El?”

“Wha-, I-I thought she was with you?!?”

“What? Last I saw her you were together?”

The brothers shared a lock of utter terror.

“Bill, we have to find her!”

“I know… Dad went to get the kids and Percy’s back in the tent waiting.”

“There’s no time to waste then. Let’s go”

~~~~~~

They had been running around the camping grounds for half an hour, and there was still not a trace of a living soul - let alone the special one they were searching for. At first, they had been shouting her name at the top of their lungs, but were now walking silently. That was, at least, until a shout made both of them turn around.

“Bill! Charlie! What are you doing? I told you to stay in the tent?”

Arthur Weasley came running towards them, with Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

“Dad!”, Charlie shouted. “Have you seen El? We can’t find her?”

“What?”, asked Arthur. “But she was with you, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, at first, but we must have gotten separated… Dad, is that? You know?”

He threw a dark glance at the skull and snake decorating the night sky and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Look, I’ll take Ron, Hermione and Harry back to the tent, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay? Don’t go too far. Come on kids!”

~~~~~~

Just as the brothers were about to give up, go back to the clearing, wait for their dad and hopefully find both their sisters safe and sound, Bill noticed something. A glimpse of red in the moonlight…

“Charlie? Get over here fast!”

The younger brother followed Bill’s gaze and immediately set off through the forest when his eyes found a mess of ginger hair sticking out from behind a rather large pine. Bill followed closely behind.

“ELLIE!!!?!!”

Charlie stumbled to his knees and turned his sister around, trying to get a better look at her. He pressed his hand to her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a pulse.

“She’s alive”, he mumbled. “Bill, she’s alive!”

“Good. I- Good.” Bill was lost for words too and mumbled a quick “Let me see”.

He pushed some hair out of her eyes and searched for any clues to what had hit her. He was a curse-breaker after all, but that usually meant working with curses placed on things or places, not people. 

“Charlie, I-I don’t know what that is… it’s not a curse I’m familiar with and I’m no healer… You want to carry her?”

“Of course”

Charlie brought his twin into his arms and picked her up, her bruised, limp body threatening to fall unless he held on tight enough. The brothers walked back to the clearing where they’d promised to meet their dad, but kept a close watch on their sister. They would apparate, though at the moment none of them felt like they had much time for ‘Deliberation’. It wasn’t very far anyways.

~~~~~~

“DAD!”, Bill shouted as soon as they noticed Arthur in the clearing where they were supposed to wait.

“Boys! Didn’t I tell you t-”

“We’ll take that later, Dad, you’ve got to help her!?”

Arthur Weasley was speechless, which had most likely never happened before, and Charlie felt so helpless. This was worse than his worst nightmares, and there was nothing he could do. Had it been a wounded dragon, sure, he knew loads about them, but this?

“Dad?”, asked Bill. “What can we do?”

“Right. Er… I suppose there’s no use trying to get you to wait here?”, he said while looking at Charlie who frantically shook his head. “Right, Bill could you go back to Percy and the kids? Fill them in on what happened? Then Charlie and I’ll take Ellie to St Mungos, okay?”

Bill didn’t look too happy with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

---

“Charlie sit down!”

“Fred, he can’t”, said George. “Hey, I think you missed a spot over there, Charles”

“Shut it both of you! Honestly, why am I the only one that’s worried?”

Arthur stood up and put an arm around his son.

“Listen, we’re all worried, but walking back and forth isn’t helping anyone. Just sit for a moment, huh?”

“No, dad, you don’t understand! It’s my fault. We were supposed to stick together! I let her out of my sight...I-”

“Charlie, we all-”

“No, Bill, you don’t get it either, I should-”

“-let your sister sleep for once? That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.”

The entire family turned at once, and found the oldest daughter struggling to sit up.

“EL!!”

Charlie stumbled over and put a hand on his sister’s back, trying to help her up, but unfortunately placing it right where the curse had hit her.

“Auch!”

She moved away from his touch and he pulled his hand back immediately.

“Blimey, Ellie I’m so s-”

“Charlie, it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

Ellie pulled her brother into a hug, though he was now extremely careful, and she looked over his shoulder at the rest of her family. Her eyes met Bill’s and he sent her a kind smile. She gestured for him to come join them, and eventually the whole family found themselves in a loving group hug. Molly did her very best to wrap her arms around all her children, desperately trying to convince herself that they were all there - safe and sound and loved. 

Because if there was one thing the Weasleys had a lot of, it was love and that is, after all, precisely what family is all about.

~ L

Masterlist

[technicallymilkshakes]

A Change of Season

Genre(s): Fluff, Fantasy Pairing: Yixing x Reader  Word Count: 4.1k 

This is my gift for @chicken-fifi​ for the @exolssecretsanta​ event! I hope you enjoy this take on dad!Xing. Happy Holidays! 

When Mae stampedes back into the house, a whole host of critters follow her in. A young fox kit bolts between your legs, a hawk chasing after it. You shoo away a curious chipmunk, intent on investigating the roasted chestnuts you've set out to cool. Bingo, the white hare that has followed your daughter since she celebrated her first birthday, runs in next with a little leap of joy. And rounding out the procession is Yixing, who walks into the room with a sheepish expression.

Melting ice and snow puddle along the floor like little cookie crumbs trails that lead to what is apparently a whole forest's worth of animals in your house, your daughter included. You and your husband exchange a familiar look, one of equal parts fondness and exasperation.

You beat him to placing a finger on your nose.

“Not it!” you crow victoriously.

Yixing laughs and hangs up his scarf, resigned to animal round-up duty.

You smile and hand the chipmunk, who has returned for a second attempt at pilfering, a chestnut. You watch with amusement as he promptly stuffs it in his mouth. This is the enchanted life you've become used to ever since your daughter was born.

**

After a dinner of rich stew and homemade bread, Mae totes her father off to play, leaving you to clean the dishes. She had not been happy with him after he had herded the last woodland creature out the door, so you're glad that she seems to either have forgiven him or forgotten.

Your mind drifts as you begin washing up. The window over the sink affords you a view of the backyard and the forest that abuts it. It had snowed long and hard the past two days, but tonight the sky is clear. The evergreens appear like frosty giants in the evening with their wintry snow coats aglow.

Winter is your favorite time of year. Your family bundles up inside together against the cold, a cozy intimacy that no other season can seem to replicate. Dinners are warm affairs, full of good food, laughter, and Mae's cheerful chatter. It feels, for a time at least, that you exist outside of the rest of the world. The only sounds are of birds, the crack of branches and the snow falling from them, then crunching beneath your feet. You never want it to end.

Such thoughts and reminiscing help pass the time, and soon enough you are drying the last dish and setting it back in the cupboard. The quiet strikes you then and pulls you into the living room in its wake.

Already Mae has fallen asleep, the gentle glow of Christmas lights dancing blue, orange, white upon her eyelashes. Yixing cradles your daughter in his arms, bending his head low to sweep his lips against her cheek. The fire he had kindled hours ago crackles dimly in the background. Bingo, ever watchful, has curled up beneath the Christmas tree to keep an eye on his sleeping charge.

A deep-seated happiness burns within you. You promise yourself to commit this moment to memory.

You come up behind your husband and touch his shoulder. When he looks up, tears sparkle in the corners of his eyes.

“Yixing?”

“She's getting so big,” he whispers. “I remember when she was just a baby. Her whole hand could only wrap around one finger. And now she already knows how to talk.”

You wrap yourself around him and feel the reciprocating bittersweet ache of your child growing up. “Oh, Yixing,” you whisper back. “We're parents for the rest of our lives,” you murmur as you rest your head on his shoulder. “She'll always be our baby.”

**

Eventually, Yixing puts Mae to bed. She stirs from her sleep, brow scrunching. Bingo hops onto the bed and slips into her arms. You sweep her fringe away and lay a kiss as gentle as snowfall on her forehead. Only then does she relax and slip back into sleep.

Arms slips around your waist and spin you. Yixing holds you loosely in the circle of his arms. He catches your gaze, eyes sleepy and affectionate. Mae's nightlight projects snow drifting down the walls around you.

“Love you,” he says.

No matter how many times you hear it, you always have to fight down the sudden spike in your pulse, the warming of your cheeks.

“You're just jealous I haven't given you your kiss yet.”

He's smiling, the shadow of his dimple a deep dark. “How'd you know?”

You smile knowingly. “Love you, too,” you whisper back before finally giving him the kiss he's been waiting for.

**

You dream that night. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that you remember.

One spring day, when the first buds appeared on the trees, Mae was taken. You had been sleeping, and then you weren't. A great clattering came from down the stairs. Mae's crib was gone. You scrabbled out of bed, crying out “Mae!” Yixing jerked awake behind you, but you couldn't linger. There was no time to explain.

You sprinted downstairs to see two white-tailed deer dragging the crib out of the house. Vines had sprouted from the crib's wooden legs and attached themselves to the halters of the 12-point bucks. The backdoor was open and they were making a dash for the woods.

“No!” you shouted, leaping after them. You managed to grab onto one of the rails. Bingo peered at you over the edge. They were going so fast, they were dragging you through the remaining snow, which that night measured a scant inch. Snow and slush slid into your shirt. I can't hold on, you realized with  creeping horror. And just as you thought it, you jolted as the deer dragged you over the jagged end of a rock. Your fingers slipped and you came a halt, curling around the bruise blooming on your ribs.

A breeze whisked by you and you glanced up through tears to see Yixing racing into the forest after your baby.

Minutes, hours went by, and then a blinding flash, brighter than lightning, blazed through the woods. The howl of soul in despair rang out after like thunder.

You were already crying by the time Yixing came back, carrying something. He looked up at you, devastated.

In his hands hovered the most perfect snowflake you had ever seen.

**

Mae sits at the table drawing with Yixing. Crayons scatter across the table in a mess of color. Some have rolled off the edge. Yixing holds one captive, rolling it back and forth on the ground with a socked foot.

“What are you drawing?” you ask Mae.

“This is you!” she says, pointing to a vaguely human-like shape. There is a concerning red blotch by the head. A smaller blob she declares to be herself, and Bingo a small circle that you had thought was a foot at first.

“And where am I?” asks Yixing.

Mae points to her father's drawing.

“I'm a sheep?” he asked, confused.

“No! A bunny,” she says back.

You stifle a laugh as Yixing looks even more confused.

Mae traces the sheep's horns. “These are its ears.” Yixing nods thoughtfully, then scrawls over the paper to make the sheep more bunny-like

He's such a good father, you think. He is patient, and kind. He listens to her and responds sincerely. You are profoundly in love with them, with your family and its small place in the world.

The two drawings hang from the refrigerator later that evening. You can hear Yixing playing with Mae in the living room, bouncing her up and down on his lap as she giggles and shrieks “Horsey!” Mae has labeled each figure in indecipherable symbols, but underneath one, in handwriting too elegant to be a child's hand, reads Daddy. It is undeniable a bunny.

**

You had long been suspicious of Bingo. He was no ordinary hare. But you had never been more suspicious of him than when your daughter came home this year.

It was the first snow of the year, and you and Yixing had been standing outside for hours already in the cold so that you didn't miss it. And there! To your left, a bright light had flashed in the forest. You were the first to find Mae and you fell on your knees before her.

“Oh, baby,” you said, cradling her cheeks in your hands, checking her over for any injuries. She was dressed in a similar foreign garment as last time, this one made of a pale pink shimmering gossamer.

“Where have you been?” you cried. She was old enough now, if she could just tell you where she went, then maybe....

And that was the first time you noticed it. The way your daughter fell silent and stared at the white hare.

She looked you full in the eyes a moment later and said, “Bingbing says I can't tell you yet.”

Yixing came at that moment and swept her into his arms.

“Don't leave us again,” he said, voice muffled against her. “Promise me that you won't go.”

“Daddy!” Mae complained, squirming in his hold. She looked at you plaintively over his shoulder and pouted. “I'm hungry.”

**

The first time it happened, you thought you'd lost your daughter forever. You had grieved with the force of a death. And then you woke up on the first day of snowfall to see a white hare on your chest.

“Mae...” came Yixing's hoarse voice besides you. You turned and saw your daughter in her crib beside the bed. Two seasons had come and gone, and she had clearly kept growing the months you'd been apart. But she watched you with those same keen eyes like she knew exactly who you.

“Did you...bring her back?” you asked, turning back to the white hare. Bingo merely twitched his nose a few times. He seemed to be staring right at you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You rested a tentative hand on the hare, who close its eyes in acceptance. After another moment, it jumped away.

Yixing watched you with wide eyes, Mae already cradled in his arms. You wrapped your arms around the both of them. “I love you so much,” you whispered in a voice choked with tears. “I am so lucky to have you both.”

**

It snows again the next day. You're not sure who's more excited about it, you or your daughter. Yixing struggles to get Mae kitted out for the weather, and you practically trip over yourself to shove your boots and hat on at the same time.

You had spent your free time this fall building a sled. You had cobbled all the pieces together yourself: the polished wood, the metal runners, the string that worked the rudder like reins on a horse. The winters have only grown longer since Mae was born, and you want to enjoy it while you can.

You start to wax up the candles with a broken candle when Mae huffs and puffs her way over to you, stretching up to try and reach your hand.

“No, mommy! I want to do it.”

You laugh and hand her the piece of candle. You wrap your fingers around hers, two-times clumsy with her gloves on, and help her slide the wax on the metal, lifting your daughter up when she can no longer reach.

“Perfect!” you declare when you finish with the second runner. “Thank you for your help, my little elfling.” You pinch her nose lightly and she giggles and runs to her dad.

All of you, Bingo included, pile out into the snow. You and Mae get the honors of the inaugural sled ride. Yixing bursts into a run first, yelling “race you down the hill!”

“Get him, mommy!” Mae yells, trying to scoot the sled forward. You kick off, and soon the two of you are zooming. You catch up with Yixing easily and then you are past, far past, trees blurring by.

The sled finally comes to a rest and Mae is still laughing. She has already hopped off the sled and is tugging on you, wanting to do it all over again. You roll off the sled, feeling about as dexterous as a marshmallow. Then you stand and survey how very long you have to climb back up.

“Come on, Mommy,” Mae says, slipping her hand into yours. The two of you walk forward in silence for a minute before you ask, “Where's your daddy, Mae?” 

She runs forward, Bingo dashing after her, and you call after them not to go too far by themselves. Your warning is half-hearted, though. The woods welcome Mae like a friend. Even now, cardinals flock to the branches around her, bright splashes of red against the snow like trail marks pointing straight to her. There is an undeniable magic to your child. You have a feeling that nothing could hurt her, and the only thing that could take her is a force that you have no way of stopping.

The sled glides easily back up the hill—you do your best to keep it in the tracks you left on the way down. You eye the branches of the trees along the climb. Not one of the deciduous trees you spy has a single hint of a bud upon its branches. You heave a sigh in relief.

You're the one who stumbles across Yixing first. He has fallen backwards into the snow, his phone lying on his chest, staring up at the sky. You can't resist—you pick his phone up and take a few pictures of him, rosy cheeked, haloed in snow.

You pocket his phone and stretch a hand out for him. Mae comes barreling towards the two of you, yelling “Daddy!”

Yixing takes your hand with a smile.

“I guess you guys won.”

**

Later that night, Yixing shows you a video on his phone. He was filming the entire sled race. You watch second hand as you tuck Mae between your legs and wrap an arm around her. Suddenly, the camera is jerking forward, Yixing's muffled challenge to a race humming through the speaker. You hear his huffed laughter, the crunch of snow and the way his jacket sleeves rub against his sides as he runs. All of a sudden, you and Mae streak by, Mae squealing, and then the world topples. From white to black to white again, you hear Yixing trip, the sound of his breath knocked out of him in a single oof. Miraculously, he manages to keep a grip on his phone.

He lays there, camera facing the sky. All you hear is him breathing. A couple of snowflakes drift by and just miss landing on the lens. You feel oddly self-conscious when you show up onscreen. Is that what you looked like? A wide grin split your face, your hair windblown. You look down at Yixing with what is unmistakably love.

The video ends when you grab the phone to take pictures of Yixing (which you have already bullied him into sending you).

“I love watching you with Mae,” he confesses as the two of you lay in bed. Your bodies have curved inward, seeking the presence of the other. His fingers wrap around yours.

“Your smile, how tender you are...” Yixing turns and presses his face against your neck. “I love you both so much,” he says.

**

Mae becomes increasingly more cuddly as winter wears on. It's difficult to put her to bed. She'll cry long into the night, begging to sleep with you and Yixing. More and more, one of the two of you would cave  in. She would crawl into your bed and rest in the warm hollow between your two bodies. Soon, neither of you bothered with carrying her to her bed.

How could either of you resist when you already had so little time with her? You want to hold her close just as much as she wants to be held. Everyday, you find her napping with Yixing, laid out along his chest and stomach. Your phone album is full of pictures of the two of them together.

Yixing said she took after you. But you see all the ways in which Mae takes after her father. The shape of her eyes. Her brilliant dimples. Her wavy hair. You had taken far too many pictures of them waking from a nap together, sporting matching cases of wild bedhead. It is the most adorable sight you have ever seen.

**

It happens earlier this year than it ever has before. On Christmas Day, Mae disappears. You race outside, going tree to tree, looking for the sight of even a hint of a bud. But there is nothing.

Hours pass in the woods, but they feel barren. You hunt for even a hint that Mae has been there, but find not even footprints. The forest is quiet and empty. For the first time, you feel the loneliness of winter.

You trudge into the house, numb from cold and disbelief. Yixing looks equally as hollow. “Bingo's still here,” he says hoarsely. And the two of you collapse towards each other with the gravity of your anguish. Why is this happening, you wonder.

Later that night, you wander in Mae's room. Lying atop her pillow is a single brilliant snowflake and a white hare.

**

Spring marches in with a a triumph. The flowers are riotously beautiful—bashful pinks, velvety reds, radiant yellows, and inky purples. All the life that winter has lacked bursts forth with a vengeance. And still, Mae is gone.

Bingo spends most of his time outdoors now. The sight of him upsets Yixing, which in turn upsets you. But outside of your husband's sights, you take some comfort in the hare's presence. He joins you on walks through the forest, thin tethers to a time before. You while away most of your days there now.

Where you have turned to the forest, Yixing haunts the threshold to Mae's room. He doesn't go in. He simply stares, watching the snowflake that never melts. You suspect that he's waiting for the moment it disappears so he'll know exactly when Mae has returned.

Neither of you have been sleeping much, nor well. The house is quiet, as if it's waiting with the two of you. It feels like the first time she disappeared all over again. A part of you, one you can never confess having to Yixing, thinks that she will never come back. Not this time.

**

One morning, you awake and find Yixing gone. You frown and throw the bedsheets off. Yixing never gets up before me. You slip downstairs and find yourself standing in front of Mae's room. The snowflake is gone.

“Yixing?” you call out, with real concern now.

It is quiet still. A pot of coffee rests on the counter. A half-empty mug sits abandoned on the dining room table, the chair still pulled out.

The backdoor is open.

“No,” you gasp, and stagger outside.

Yixing is nowhere in sight, but you know he must be in the forest. What is he doing. You hesitate at the edge of the woods. You've spent hours amounting to days in this forest, and yet it suddenly appears to you a maze. He could be anywhere.

And then you hear it. A chorus of whistles. And like magic, a path marked by the red of cardinals appears before you. You hurtle along it, crashing through bracken and bramble, until you see the sight of a very familiar back.

Yixing whirls around. In his hands is the snowflake.

“Look here,” he says, pointing to the snowflake. “The gates are open.” You gaze at the snowflake. It is like ice, or glass—clear enough to see through to Yixing's palm on the other side. All six points of the snowflake are perfectly formed like castle spires or a knight's sword, and at its hub is a beautiful ice castle with open gates.

You look up at Yixing. “The gates weren't open before,” he says. “There's a path,” he continues, body already half-turning, “the hare....There!”

He takes off, and you see the flash of a hare disappearing in the distance.

The two of you race after Bingo. The world flashes by in colors and noise, simultaneously real and insubstantial. You feel the burn of your lungs, the jolt that goes up your legs with each stride. All you have to do is follow Yixing. He is a few feet in front of you until.

He isn't.

You try to stop, but your momentum carries you forward. You break through the edge of the trees and slide right over the edge of a blind ravine. You try reaching for the scraggliest tree you have ever seen jutting from the cliff face, but it uproots and you, and it, plummet

down

down

down

onto warmth. Thick white blankets your lap. Yixing sits ahead of you, looking just as shell-shocked as you feel.

“It's about time,” rumbles forth a voice from beneath. You realize all of a sudden that you are sitting astride the most gigantic white hare you have ever seen.

The hare comes to a halt, lowering itself. With a gentle shake, both you and Yixing are deposited on the ground.

You gape at your surroundings. It is starless night, yet everything is awash in a glow of blue. Frost blankets the world as far as your eye can see. Without the warmth of the hare, the cold bites deep into you, undeterred by the thin pajamas you had rushed out in.

A sudden wind blows, and you shield your eyes against it. A man, or something like it, lands before you. Wings arch away from his back and a small fount of feathers sprout from his red hair, whereas his eyebrows and beard are a trim black.

“Welcome, Starbearer. Welcome, Woodweaver.” His voice is musical.

You and Yixing stare perplexed at the winged man. He approaches Yixing first.

“Thank you for returning the First Star. We humbly accept this gift.”

For the snowflake in Yixing's palms had turned into a blazing light. Warmth radiates from it, reaching you even from where you stand. The man bows his head, cupping his hands beneath Yixing's and then pushes them both up. You watch as the star ascends from its cradle in Yixing's palms until it streaks into the night sky. It settles into place, and soon, begins to color night into day.

The man approaches you next.

“Thank you for returning the First Tree. We humbly accept this gift.”

This time, the man places his hands over yours and pushes down. The scraggly tree, which you had been holding onto all this time, immediately roots itself into the ground and begins to flower and leaf. Soft showers of iridescent petals drift around you.

Morning dawns over the land and sweeps the ice away. Grass has sprouted beneath your feet, and little flowers like fireworks burst into bloom. You gasp. In the distance, you catch sight of a familiar castle, with spires that spear the sky. It glimmers golden in the sunshine.

“I apologize. We have been looking for you for a long time, however your daughter was an unforeseen element that confounded our agents.” He gestures with a wing to two white-tailed deer and a white hare. “All this time, we expected it to be one person when we needed two.”  He shakes his head, feathers ruffling.  

“But I digress. You have brought with you the first new season. Starvale thanks you.”

The winged man observes you both for a moment, then gives a brisk nod, the plume at his front rising.

“Daddy!”

Like a reflex, Yixing drops and gathers Mae into his arms. You find yourself in the mix a moment later. You shake with sobs, pressed cheek to cheek with your daughter. Yixing pours kisses all over both of you, much to Mae's chagrin. She is wearing the same kind of garment as before, this one with real twigs and berries stitched into it. Some berries get crushed, staining the fabric around it in halos of red.

“Will you stay?” she asks. Her eyes are wide and watery, her little hands clutching fistfuls of Yixing's sweater.

“You have my heart,” Yixing answers, helplessly in love. “For the two loves of my life, I would capture every star in the sky if I had to.”

**

And so, the family stayed on in Starvale.

The Starbearer walked the lands to bring morning and night. The Woodweaver felled trees and scattered seeds to make the forests grow. And their Herald of Joy showed the world what great love is capable of.

** A/N: Thank you for reading! I’m grateful for this event, which has brought forth such wonderful content and connected creators across the fandom. This was my first crack at a kid fic, which was a great challenge. Thanks to chicken-fifi for being such a good sport, and sorry that I couldn’t send you more asks! Still, I hope you enjoyed. I look forward to more of your own writing!

Happy Holidays!

[philosopherking1887]

First line challenge

Thanks for tagging me, @sapphosewrites!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

I interpreted “first line” generously... these are more like first paragraphs, or first few lines if the first is a short line of dialogue. Putting the quotes under a cut because this got quite long.

My first lines seem to fall into 4 categories (though the fourth only has one instance):

(a)  Line of dialogue: 4, 6, 7, 9, 14, 19 (b)  Description of a relevant background state of affairs: 2, 5, 10, 12, 17, 18, 20 (c)  A present, occurrent event that starts the action, always immediately followed by a statement relating it to a more general state of affairs: 1, 8, 13, 15(?), 16; 12 could actually be considered a mirror image of this pattern (d)  Description of setting: 11

Do I have a favorite? Maybe #5... but that might just be because it belongs to what’s currently my favorite fic of mine. Does anyone else have a favorite?

Tagging @conceptadecency, @damnhardwork, @delicatetrashstranger, @korvidaee, @richardcampbellganseytheiiird, @vermin-disciple, and anyone else who finds this amusing...

1.  Julian was fully awake the instant he heard the door chime of his cabin aboard the Defiant. That was one of many curious perks of his genetic enhancements: no sleep inertia. Zero to sixty in no time flat, as they might have said in the old automobile days.

2. Jadzia loved dirty gossip (a trait she had inherited primarily from Curzon, but also, in varying degrees, from all her other previous hosts, with the notable exception of Tobin). She loved offering advice, solicited or un-, on other people’s love lives. She was a proud, unrepentant busybody. But now, in spite of all that, she found herself regretting having busybodied herself into the position of Julian’s sole confidante about his relationship with Garak.

3.  “Everything’s gone dark. I can’t see you. Are you alone?” “Yes. There’s no one else but you and me.” Julian would think about that later—what it meant that Garak wanted him to stay, had lied to his old mentor and superior, the man to whom he said he owed everything.

4.  “…then she grabs my wrist, and puts my hand on her arm, and says ‘You have very steady hands.’ At this point I was completely baffled. How’m I supposed to respond to that? So I said, ‘Well, they get the job done, I guess. But right now the most important job is bypassing the plasma emitter.’ And then, out of nowhere, she says, ‘I assure you I’m quite fertile.’”

5.  Since being exiled to Terok Nor, Garak found that he had nothing but time. That was more true than ever now that he had been sentenced to six months in a holding cell on this State-forsaken station.

6.  “So, Katara… I’ve been thinking.” “No, you shouldn’t try riding the unagi again,” Katara said absently, not looking up from her work.

7.  “You wanted to see me, Commander?” “Sit down, Doctor Bashir.” “Is everything all right?” “Everything except your head, apparently.”

8.  Katara swept through the halls of the Fire Nation Royal Palace like a hurricane, hand perched threateningly on the skin of water at her hip, while Aang followed in the path she had cleared, apologizing hurriedly to disconcerted servants and indignant officials standing pressed against the walls to let her pass. Katara had no trouble finding her way to the infirmary; she had spent a fair amount of time there in the days after Sozin’s Comet, helping to tend Zuko’s wound from Azula’s lightning, as well as the less life-threatening ailments of the combatants from the Day of Black Sun who were being released from Fire Nation prisons on the orders of the new Fire Lord.

9.  “Ziyal?” She turned and spotted him, and her eyes lit up. Garak closed the distance to her table and she stood, a smile breaking over her face like the sun scattering thunderclouds over the desert.

10.  Three years after the end of the war, Aang was finding himself feeling perversely glad that he had only been twelve years old when he’d had to master three elements in less than a year and save the world from a power-mad Fire Lord, because if he’d been just a few years older he would never have been able to focus.

11.  It was another sultry day on Ember Island, where the Avatar’s family had joined the Fire Lord’s for a brief holiday at the royal family’s beach house. The heat was verging on uncomfortable for Katara, who was used to the chill of the South Pole.

12.  It wasn’t often that all the heroes of the Hundred-Year War could gather in the same place at the same time, but they managed it for the fifth anniversary of Zuko’s coronation.

13.  Zuko lit four candles on the altar in his cabin and sat half-lotus on the bench in front of it to meditate, as his uncle had taught him, as he had done every evening for the past three months aboard the Wani. Or rather, it should have been evening, but so near the North Pole at the summer solstice, the sun never quite set, but hovered at the edge of the horizon even at midnight.

14. “We could call it the Fifth Nation.” Aang made this suggestion to Zuko as they walked back from an informal tour of Cranefish Town, which before today Zuko had never seen, to the hotel where they were staying.

15.  As it turned out, Katara was the first to have the opportunity for a night alone with Zuko—which she thought was only fair, since it was Aang’s impulsive kiss when he was alone with Zuko that had started all of this.

16.  Iroh looked away when Ozai put a hand to his son’s face—but even as he did, he swore that he would never look away from Zuko again.

17.  In the Fire Nation, unlike in the other nations, the solstices are not festival days. Most of the archipelago is arrayed along the equator, so the length of the days does not change appreciably over the course of the year. What distinguishes the solstices is that the tilt of the planet makes the angle of the sun’s rays more indirect than at any other time of year, while it is strongest and most direct during what the hemispheres call the equinoxes.

18.  Zuko was accumulating epithets, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

19.  “Do you think something is going on between Mom and Dad and Uncle Zuko?” Kya asked, apparently out of the blue.

20.  Zuko had given Aang every argument he could muster for why he had to kill the Fire Lord.