#then fast forward to like a month and half ago and my dad—through sort of a back alley way with the Department of Human Resources of AL—

[corpish]

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[babygirlbenji]

Hottest D.I.L.F - Pierre Gasly

A/N cat finally published a fic after seven months, who cheered !! anyway this is my first pierre fic and i'm lowkey proud of it ??? sry there's not rly much 'dad!pierre' but maybe it could b a series?? if u know what i mean?? anyway let's get into it!!

It really was not very often that Pierre was home. With his hectic schedule, he was away for days, sometimes even weeks. It was very hard for you, especially when you first got together just over five years ago, but even harder now that you had an 18 month old daughter to think about. 

However, there was no doubting Pierre’s devotion to you and little Amélie. Any chance he got to take his girls to a race and show his baby off to his fellow drivers, he took it with both hands. Amélie had come to be a regular in the paddock, and all the drivers loved meeting and interacting with the little girl. 

When Pierre was home, though, it was like everything that had happened in your lives before you met had led to this exact moment. The laughs you shared, the stories you told, the love you had for both each other and the little human you created… it was like something out of a fairytale. Many happy evenings were shared on the balcony in your home near Nice, Amélie fast asleep in her cot with you and Pierre sharing a glass of wine (for him) and a soft drink (for you, as you were still breastfeeding) only a few metres away. 

One such day, during the summer F1 break, your work day had been… less than ideal. You worked at a high-end restaurant as an events co-ordinator, and your customers were infamous for being very difficult and demanding. You’d spent the first half of the day trying to persuade one client to not use one caterer (who was notorious for either poor food quality or just not turning up at all), and the other half of the day trying to persuade a colleague that a collaboration between the two of you would be highly beneficial. Much to your chagrin, neither venture had gone in your favour. 

Fumbling with the keys to your home, you unlocked the door and kicked your heels off, dumping your bag on the small dresser by the front door. You made a mental note to yourself to check your files at the weekend. 

The house was eerily quiet. Normally, when Pierre was home and looking after Amélie, your home would be vibrant with the giggles of a daughter laughing at her father doing some weird shit, or her bouncing away in her bouncer while he played F1 2022 (while stealing glances every few seconds to make sure she was okay). 

Today, though, the halls were silent. No baby giggles, no goofy dad jokes, and definitely no sounds of pixelated Formula 1 cars. 

‘Hello?’ you whispered. You made your way through the hall, before coming across the sweetest scene you had ever witnessed.

Pierre and Amélie were stretched out on the floor, on her baby mat and below her mobiles (of F1 cars, of course), both fast asleep. She was on her back, arms lazily flopped on the floor above her head, while her father was on his side; he probably fell asleep like that to make sure that she fell asleep before he did, as he hated sleeping on his side. 

You whipped your phone out and took a picture of the scene in front of you, before quietly stepping forward and gently knocking Pierre’s foot with your own. 

‘Oi.’ Another nudge with your foot, slightly harder than the last time. ‘Don’t make me mimic Daniel and yell your name obnoxiously loudly.’ The Frenchman finally stirred, looking around blearily to see who had dared wake him from his slumber. You did feel a bit bad, as the season was a few days away from getting underway again, but you wanted to spend some time with your husband before your daughter woke up from her sort-of-planned nap. 

‘Bonjour, amour,’ he mumbled as he got up to wrap his arms around you. ‘Good day?’ You shrugged, relishing his embrace. Your head instinctively rested on his chest and you let out a contented sigh. 

‘Typical rude customers, typical crusty old boss. What else is new?’ Pierre chuckled. He broke apart from the embrace slightly to cup your face with his hands. 

‘Quit. I’ll support you.’ You made a face. 

‘I’m grateful for the offer but you know I like being independent.’ 

‘Go part time at least.’ It was indeed tempting, and you had thought about reducing your hours, but that was a conversation and a decision for another day. Right now, you had a husband to catch up with and dinner to make together. You stood up on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss. 

‘I’ll think about it. What do you want for dinner? We’ve got some lasagne leftovers, or I can do a pasta bake with something, or we could order in, or…’ Your sentence was interrupted by your daughter stirring on her floor mat, obviously recognising her mother’s voice. ‘There’s my little star, how are you, Ammy?’ 

As Pierre watched you pick up your baby and hold her close to your chest, his heart swelled with love for his girls. He had known since the moment he met you that you were the one for him, but there were several moments that stuck out to him in which he knew that he was going to spend the rest of your lives together, and one of those moments was six months before he proposed to you, when you had just given birth to Ammy. 

‘Je t’aime, amour,’ he whispered to you. Your eyes met and you shared a sweet smile, before your attention returned to Amélie, who had started fussing. 

‘Bonjour, my little petal, how are you?’ You gently lifted her out of her bouncer and into her chest. She giggled at the attention from her mother, playing with your hair with her tiny fists. ‘Ow, ow, darling, that hurts.’ Though your words could have come across as scolding, your gentle laughs as she figured out the texture and waved your hair around negated the slight pain as she pulled the strands from your scalp. 

Pierre watched, completely transfixed by his two favourite girls. He’d always wanted kids, especially a daughter, but this was a million times better than what he had ever imagined. 

After you had had dinner on the sofa watching a new season of Below Deck, you tucked Amélie into her cot and put her little nightlight on. You said your usual goodnights to her, as you gently kissed her soft baby hair on the top of her head. She smelled of her baby lotion, of vanilla and fresh laundry. It was one of your favourite smells. 

‘Goodnight, my angel, mama and papa love you so much. Sleep tight.’ You closed the door as quietly as you could. 

‘Amour, where are you?’ Pierre’s voice chimed in from your master bedroom. 

‘Just coming, darling, I’m just down the hall,’ your voice softly echoed down the hall. Pierre was always the protective type, especially when you joined him in the paddock, but since you had Amélie, his protectiveness had grown tenfold. If you were just at home, though, it was probably just him being a clingy bastard (not that you really minded). 

You joined him in the huge four-poster bed, snuggling into his side. It was moments like this you missed the most; just you and him, alone from the world and having some time to yourselves. You loved Amélie, of course you did, but every couple needs time just for each other. 

‘Would you prefer it if I was here more?’ Pierre’s question made you sit up and look at him, bemused.

‘What do you mean, babe?’ He shrugged.

‘I’ve just… I’ve been thinking about it and maybe it’s time for me to quit F1.’ Your face must have conveyed how shocked you were at this revelation, because he ploughed on. ‘Well, Amélie’s getting older, I don’t want to miss any more than I have, and I can always do reserve driver positions for teams or be a pundit like JB. I have three driver’s championships now, I doubt I’ll be short on offers. Plus I can be the hot… hot… what do you say? About JB?’ You started giggling when you realised what he meant.

‘DILF, babe, and you’d be the hottest DILF in the paddock. But it’s not a decision you have to make right away.’ He nodded, accepting the fact that you were both tired and needed some rest. Like you said, it wasn’t a decision that needed to be made right away. All you needed to do know was bask in each other’s company, safe in the knowledge that all the two of you would ever need is each other. 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 12,601 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: pre-apocalypse Warnings: language (duh, it's me), violence, domestic violence A/N: This one got LONGGGGG woo! Protective, badass Daryl is just so. damn. good. Summary: Daryl has long had a crush on Y/N, a waitress at the local dive bar. When things start to go bad with her boyfriend, he suddenly finds himself solving problems for her.

Your name: submit What is this?

Your friend nudged you gently with her elbow as you started to move past her with your tray. “Hey. Who’s that?” she asked, nudging her head in the direction of the door. Two men had just walked in. They were regulars at the bar where you’d been a waitress for a long time. Your friend, however, had just started working there a couple days earlier.

“Oh, the Dixon brothers,” you said, skirting past her to load your tray up with the next round of drinks.

“Are they trouble?” she asked, giving you a sideways glance. You had to laugh at that question. The bar you worked at was a total dive and most of the clientele were unsavory characters. It was frequented by a lot of the biker gangs that road the highway causing trouble.

“Everyone in here pretty much is trouble,” you said, loading the row of beers on the bar top onto your tray.

“Even Mark,” she said, her tone dripping sweet because she knew it would annoy you. You rolled your eyes.

“Even Mark,” you agreed. You’d met your boyfriend at the bar while you were working. You hadn’t been dating that long, only about 3 months. He was a member of one of the biker gangs, but you’d grown up around people like him and the rest of the bar patrons your whole life. You were used to the whistles and catcalling and even the occasional ass-grabbery. Most of the time you felt perfectly safe at work with Charlie, the bartender, watching over things and quite frankly, most of the men tipped you generously. You just chose not to think about where they got the money. You didn’t come from any money at all, and you’d gotten a job as soon as you legally could to help your mom pay the bills. She had already been working two full-time jobs trying to keep your family afloat. Even before you’d been able to work officially you took every babysitting or lawn mowing gig you could find. Your dad was a good man, kind and loving, but an alcoholic. He’d had a work accident when you were just a baby and had chronic back pain from it. He was still young when he finally succumbed to his alcoholism.

And you’d just kept working.

“Well, that younger brother is cute,” your friend said, drawing your attention back to the two men who’d just walked in. “What’re their names?”

“Gimme a minute and I’ll introduce you,” you said. You rounded the bar and took the beers on your loaded tray over to a table of boisterous bikers and handed them out. By the time you got back up to the bar, the Dixon brothers had wandered over.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” Merle grinned at you, leaning his forearms on the bar. “Whatchu doin’ lookin’ that good up in here? You lookin’ to start a fight?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at him. “Merle, you can knock off the sweet talkin’. It’s not gonna get you free booze.”

“Who said I even come in here for the booze?” he flirted shamelessly, shooting a wink at you. This time you did laugh appreciatively.

“Uh huh. Well, since you’re at the bar and not in my section, I can get away with ignoring you all night,” you joked. “Charlie will be glad to take your order.” You glanced at the younger Dixon brother who seemed to be quite purposefully keeping his eyes on his hands as he fiddled with a discarded beer top. “How are you, Daryl?” His blue eyes shot up to meet yours. “Doin’ alright?”

Daryl nervously licked his lips and nudged his nose up in a single nod. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

“Good. That’s good,” you said, giving him a wide smile. Daryl’s heart jumped. Fuck. He always felt completely out of control when you smiled at him like that. Half the time it shut down his ability to engage in any sort of conversation and seemed to make his body start malfunctioning. “Well, listen boys. This is my friend Rachel. She just started workin’ here a couple days ago so I expect you to go easy on her.” Rachel smiled at them and said hello. “This is Merle Dixon and his brother Daryl.” You caught sight of one of your tables trying to flag you down. “Merle is the one you need to watch out for. He’ll try his hardest to charm you right out of your skirt, even if it never works,” you joked. “Right, Daryl?”

The younger Dixon brother hardly responded, except that his blue eyes flickered up to your face again for a moment before you breezed away. He looked up again as Charlie wandered over and asked what the Dixons wanted to drink. But Rachel cut in with a smile.

“You’re busy, Charlie. I’ll get it,” she said. She was eyeing Daryl and he felt it, glancing up at her. She was definitely attractive and definitely interested in him from what he could tell, but Daryl was so hung up on you he couldn’t have cared less. “What can I get you?” Rachel asked, leaning on the bar top, giving him a small smile.

“Gimme a bourbon, honey,” Merle said. Daryl hadn’t responded. His eyes had wandered back over to you where you were chatting with a couple regulars in a booth nearby. Merle hit him on the arm.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl drawled, pulling his eyes off you.

The way the younger Dixon brother’s gaze was fixed on you wasn’t lost on Rachel. “Sure thing,” she said, setting about grabbing the drinks. She handed them out. “So, what kind of trouble do the two of you get up to?” Rachel asked. The question was directed at Daryl but he was staring down into his beer, apparently in deep thought about something, so Merle answered instead.

“Any and every kind,” Merle laughed.

Daryl’s eyes were on you again, flickering between glancing your way, watching you smiling and laughing, and staring back down into his beer. Rachel gave the two one final smile and parting look and rushed back over to her section where someone was flagging her down. Scribbling a few notes on her pad about the order, she happened to fall back into stride with you as you both headed up toward the bar area again. You had a break for a couple minutes and hung out by the window where the cooks sent the food out.

Rachel leaned up against the counter. “I think Daryl is taken,” she said.

You gave her a questioning look. “Really? Why? I’ve never seen him in here with anyone but his brother.”

Rachel laughed. “That’s not exactly what I meant.” You stared at her, puzzled, and she rolled her eyes at you. “Y/N, he can’t keep his eyes off you. I was trying to flirt with him and he barely looked at me.”

“What? No, come on,” you laughed. “They’ve hung around here for years and he’s never said anything. I mean, I was single for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! I saw the way he was looking at you,” Rachel said. “He seems a bit shy or something. It’s not a surprise he hasn’t said anything to you about it. And besides, now you’re dating someone.”

You shrugged. “Well, he’s—he’s just a bit quiet. I don’t think—”

Rachel turned as the cook slid out the food for one of her orders. “I’m telling you he’s got it for you. Bad.” She lifted her tray. “You’re in denial. Like you usually are when someone likes you,” she laughed. “Just trust me on this.”

As Rachel breezed away, you glanced back at the two Dixon brothers at the bar. Daryl was aimlessly spinning his beer glass in his hands, staring down at it, but a moment later he glanced up and his blue eyes caught yours. He seemed a bit startled that you were looking his way, and you offered up a small smile. Daryl gulped and ducked his head. A jolt of electricity ran through him again. Fuck. Now she’s dating someone, dumbass. Give it up. She doesn’t want you.

The rest of your shift was busy and there wasn’t much time to sit around and chat. Around dinnertime was usually when the most customers rolled in for a greasy pub meal and some alcohol to lubricate their boasting. Then the dinner crowd hung around and became increasingly more intoxicated. It was about nine when your shift was up and you pulled your apron off and stowed it behind the bar. Merle was playing pool but Daryl was still just leaned up to the counter, keeping to himself. You were about to engage him in some small talk when the door pushed open and your boyfriend walked in. He immediately spotted you and gave you a nod and a smile. You grinned back at him, grabbing your purse from underneath the bar. “Hey, I’ll see you later, Daryl!” you said brightly.

He nodded and managed to give you a small smile, really just one twitch up of one corner of his mouth. His eyes followed you through the bar and he watched over his shoulder as your boyfriend’s hands landed on your lower back and you arched up onto your toes to kiss him. Daryl felt a swell of jealousy in his chest and a hard pit form in his stomach. But he simply turned away and raised a finger to Charlie and asked for another beer.

Your boyfriend Mark walked you out into the parking lot and you stopped next to his bike. “Hop on. Let’s go home,” he said.

“I’m starving. I thought we were going to grab something to eat?” you asked.

“No, come on. Let’s go home,” he said.

You thought there was something a bit different in his tone but you brushed it off. He’d been riding all day. He was probably just ready to be done and wanted to relax. But a couple minutes later, you could tell something was definitely wrong. He was speeding far faster than he should be through town, especially with you behind him. You held tighter to him and leaned forward. “Babe, slow down a bit,” you said.

He didn’t. He took a turn fast and your stomach flipped at the feeling. “Seriously! What the hell are you doing? Slow down!” you yelled over the rumbling of his bike’s engine.

He still didn’t. It was like he was getting a kick out of your fear. If anything, his speed increased. Every turn he took you felt like the bike was about to skid out. You were getting pissed. “Slow the fuck down!” you demanded.

This time he did. But soon he turned into a parking lot and stopped completely. You released your hold on him and he climbed off. A second later he had a hold of your upper arm with a grip like a vice. “Ow!” you protested as he hauled you off his bike. You almost fell as he tugged, losing your balance as you lifted your leg over the bike. “What the fuck?!” you snapped at him, ripping your arm away and staring at him in disbelief.

“If you don’t like how I drive my own goddamn bike, you can fuckin’ walk home,” he growled angrily at you. He was glaring at you with some serious rage in his eyes.

Who the hell was this person? And where was the boyfriend you knew? That’s when you realized. You stared at him, your jaw dropping partially open. “Mark… are you—did you start using again?”

He stared defiantly back at you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business.”

That was a confirmation if anything. You felt another swell of anger. He’d had substance abuse problems before you’d met but he’d assured you he was clean and was planning on staying that way. “Actually, I think it is my business,” you retorted.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He marched over to his bike and opened the saddle bag, grabbing your purse out and tossing it to the asphalt carelessly. The contents spilled out and rolled on the ground. “Fuckin’ walk it off,” he said, hopping back on his bike and starting it again. You stared in disbelief as he roared away from you.

“Shit! What the hell?!” you yelled as the sound of his bike roared away. You sighed heavily and stared down at the items that had spilled out of your bag, crouching to collect them and stuff them back where they belonged. You straightened up and glanced around at the secluded and dark lot and deserted street. You could walk home, but it would take you a while and you didn’t particularly like the thought of being out where you were alone. You felt vulnerable, like you’d be the perfect prey for some passing scumbag. You hugged your arms across yourself and decided to walk to the nearest gas station and see if you could call someone to give you a ride. Your mind was spinning over what had just happened. He’s using again. Fucking great. You’d have to end it. That was that. After your dad, you steered clear of anyone with a substance abuse problem, and the personality change in Mark was already so apparent and immediate you knew things would, in all likelihood, just get worse.

You walked along the dark sidewalk, just hoping no one would come along and mess with you. It was only a few blocks to the nearest gas station and you fixed your mind on just getting there. You looked over your shoulder as you heard engines approaching and groaned internally. Please just let them ride past. But you could tell immediately that they were slowing. You kept your head down and just kept walking until you heard voices yelling back and forth over the rumble. Glancing over again you saw that it was Merle and Daryl Dixon.

Merle gave you one final parting glance and roared off but Daryl pulled alongside you at the curb and shut off his bike.

“Hey. Are ya okay?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

You glanced at the earnest expression on his face. His blue eyes were slightly narrowed as he peered at you and his brow was drawn down. You nodded. “I’m fine,” you said. But your tone didn’t even convince you.

“Ya shouldn’t be out here at night on your own. Thought ya were with yer guy,” he said, a slight question in his tone.

You shuffled your feet a little anxiously. “I was but—” you shook your head. “I’m fine. I’m just gonna walk to the gas station and see if I can call someone for a ride,” you said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Mmm.” Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment. “I can give ya a ride. I ain’t got anywhere to be.”

You considered him thoughtfully for a moment. You had the overwhelming sense that you could trust him, and maybe it was the openness of his expression or the genuine tone of his voice. Normally you would have bucked at the idea of someone you didn’t know very well learning where you lived, but you’d known Daryl for years. At least, known him on some level. He never started trouble in the bar, although he often got sucked into it because of Merle. A lot of times Daryl was one of the few trying to break it up when it happened. Mostly it just seemed like he hung around with Merle for lack of something else to do. And, sure, sometimes he drank too much and he could be a little hotheaded, but you always had the sense from his rugged but quiet exterior that underneath he was sweet. He chatted with you shyly, asking questions about how you were and your life, but he never pried and he never acted inappropriately toward you or any of the other staff. Daryl Dixon had never once grabbed your ass and that was more than you could say for most of the regulars… Finally, after some consideration, you nodded. “Okay. That’d be great. Thanks,” you said.

He nodded, nudging his nose up. “Hop on.” His heart jumped as you accepted his offered hand for assistance and slid in behind him. It jumped again when he felt your arms lightly loop around him. “Where to?” You explained the route to your house and the bike roared to life underneath you. You held on a little more tightly as he pulled away from the curb.

Your mind was whirring over what you needed to do about Mark. You knew you wanted to end it but you had just witnessed how unstable he was at the moment. Lost in your head, it seemed like mere seconds when Daryl started to slow and you looked up and realized you were already home. The lights were on inside and Mark’s motorcycle was parked in the driveway. Daryl shut his bike off and you climbed off, straightening up at the curb and glancing at him. “Thank you. Really,” you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate it.”

His blue eyes were soft on your face and one corner of his mouth twitched up as he nodded again. “S’nothin’. Anytime.” His eyes drifted over to the motorcycle in the driveway and that little smile faded. His brow furrowed as he glanced back at you. “Ya sure you’re alright?” He sensed there was something going on. Afterall, he’d seen you leave with Mark and yet there you’d been, abandoned on the side of the road…

You gulped. Your heart started racing. You hesitated for a moment. “Um… Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again, Daryl.”

He had an uneasy feeling but what could he do? It’s not like he could invite himself to hang around. He chewed his bottom lip anxiously for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll see ya around,” he said, starting his bike up again. He watched you turn and walk up the drive and front walkway. At the top step you glanced back at him and waved. He nodded and revved the engine as you slipped inside.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl made it back to the shitty motel he and Merle were calling home at the moment, paid for with stolen credit cards and hustled pool money, Merle was kicked back on his bed getting high. Marijuana smoke was thick in the air.

“Oh, you’re back quick, baby brother,” he smirked. “You must be a two thrust and done kind of guy,” he said with a laugh and a goading smile.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Merle,” he growled, not in the mood for his brother’s bullshit. He pulled his leather jacket off and tossed it down on the chair in the corner before flopping down on his own bed.

“You tellin’ me you didn’t bed that girl?” Merle said, sitting up. “You’ve been pining after that pretty little ass of hers for years. Why the hell did you offer to drive her home if you weren’t gonna fuck her? What the hell was in it for you?” Daryl’s jaw clenched and he glared at his older brother.

“You’re a worthless piece of shit, sometimes, ya know that? Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?” Daryl spat back at him. He flopped down on his pillow and turned his back on his brother. He could hear Merle laughing to himself again and then the volume on the TV clicked up. Daryl was glad to fall asleep, admittedly thinking about how you smelled a little like lavender and vanilla and remembering the feeling of your arms around his waist.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day, Daryl and Merle were back in the bar at the usual time. Your friend Rachel was behind the counter loading her tray with drinks, but as Daryl scanned the room for you there was no sign of you. Maybe you were on a break. He grabbed his usual spot at the bar and Merle was already sweet-talking Rachel again.

Daryl flagged down Charlie and ordered a bourbon. “Hey. Y/N on break?” he asked, hoping it sounded casual.

Charlie shook his head, grabbing a bottle and pouring Daryl’s drink. “No. She called in sick today,” he said with surprise. Daryl’s brow immediately furrowed.

“Sick?” he repeated. Charlie nodded and let out a laugh.

“I know. I think it’s the first time since she’s worked here,” he said. “Except the food poisoning incident a few years back,” he added with a laugh. “But, hell, we were all sick after that.”

Daryl nodded and mumbled a thanks accepting the drink from him. He couldn’t remember ever coming in and you not being there on a day you usually worked. He felt that hard pit form in his stomach again. The night before had seemed off to him in the first place. Seeing you walking alone along the road in the dark like that… What the hell? He knew the kind of people who moved through this little shit town. That wasn’t fucking safe. Your fucking boyfriend had been with you. Why had you been alone? And the way you’d answered him when he’d pressed you to make sure you were alright… you’d hesitated. Daryl downed his bourbon in one big gulp and flagged the bartender down again.

And now you weren’t in today. Your boyfriend’s bike had been in the driveway. He anxiously chewed on the side of his thumbnail. Maybe you really were just sick. But he had a feeling you weren’t. What the hell are you gonna do? Show up at her damn house like a fuckin’ stalker?. Daryl knew there wasn’t anything he could do and he hated that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day Merle was sleeping off a bender so Daryl rode over to the bar alone. He didn’t even want a damn drink. He just wanted to know that you were okay. That annoying pit was still in his stomach. It was still early when he came in so things were slow and there were only a couple townies nursing beers in the corner. He sidled up to his usual spot at the bar. First glance around the room revealed you were conspicuously absent.

“Daryl. What can I get you?” Charlie asked, wiping down the bar top purely out of boredom.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl said, tossing a few bucks down. “Shit. Hold that for a minute. I gotta take a leak,” he drawled. He headed down the hallway that led to the restrooms and took a piss, deciding he needed a fucking smoke before he went back for his drink. He was trying to ignore the anxiety swirling in his stomach that you weren’t at work again. He pushed through the back door, digging in his pocket for his lighter, but he glanced up when he sensed someone standing nearby. “Hey,” he said, realizing it was you. You were leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between your fingers. You seemed almost to shrink away when he noticed you. “I didn’t know ya smoked,” he said surprised.

You exhaled, your knee bouncing a little anxiously. “I don’t. Usually.” Your body language was closed off, entirely unlike you.

As Daryl looked at you his unease grew and was quickly replaced with the seeds of anger. You had sunglasses on and it seemed like you were purposely trying to keep your face turned slightly away from him. His eyes landed on a bruise on your upper arm and he stepped toward you, eyes narrowed. “Ya weren’t sick yesterday,” he said. He could clearly see individual finger marks bruised into your arm.

You kept your eyes turned down toward the pavement and took another drag on your cigarette. You could feel Daryl’s strikingly blue eyes scrutinizing you now. What the hell could you say?

He moved slowly, like he was worried he would startle you, but soon he was in front of you and you couldn’t avoid his eyes any longer. There was a split in your lip and it was a bit bruised and puffy. That seed of anger in Daryl’s chest burst into a flame. “What happened?”

You pulled your eyes away from his, grateful that they were still hidden behind your sunglasses because you could feel humiliated tears burning in them. “I’m fine.”

Daryl wanted nothing more at that moment than to lift your chin and look you over, put his hands on you gently the only way someone should. But he stopped himself and sighed and shook his head, leaning back against the wall beside you and finally lighting his cigarette, casting sideways glances in your direction. “He put his fuckin’ hands on ya,” he said softly. There was a growl in his voice.

You gulped.

“What the hell happened?” he pressed again. “I knew somethin’ was off when I dropped ya off. I could fuckin’ feel it. I shoulda—”

“No, you did plenty,” you said, straightening up. “It’s not your problem.” You finally lifted your sunglasses and put them up on your head, turning to look at Daryl. Now he could see the swollen puffiness and bruising around your eye and cheekbone. He thought there was a shadow of a bruise over the bridge of your nose too. You’d clearly tried to lessen the appearance with makeup but it was still very obvious in the bright sunlight.

Daryl felt another burning wave of rage. “He done this to ya before?” he asked. Now he was wondering how many days you’d been at work with fresh bruises hidden beneath your clothes. If he had known—

You shook your head. “No. No… He—he started using again.” You sighed and leaned your back against the wall. “He was driving all crazy when we left the other night and we had a fight about it and he threw me off his bike and left me there. That’s why I was walking out there alone when you spotted me. I knew he’d started using immediately. I’d never seen him like. He was like a different person.” You ground the butt of your cigarette out against the brick wall and tossed the it into the dumpster a few paces away. “After you dropped me off I confronted him about it. I told him I didn’t want him around me or in my house. He denied it and then got angry… I—I just got out of there and ran to my neighbor’s and she called the cops.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to look at Daryl. You felt humiliated and ashamed of the whole thing. “They arrested him,” you said, scuffing a shoe on the ground. “So, that’s that.”

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Daryl drawled. “I wouldn’ta left ya there if I’d known—”

You let out a wry laugh and caught his blue eyes. “Yeah, well… I wouldn’t have had you leave me there if I’d known. But there was no way to know he was going to hit me and—” The sight of the bruises on your face sent a jolt of anger through Daryl every time he looked at them.

“Ya don’t deserve that. ‘M real sorry ya went through it,” he said again.

There was a softness and heavy regret in his voice and it caused your eyes to flicker up to meet his again. You nodded. “Thanks.”

“So, the prick is in jail?” Daryl asked. You nodded. “Good,” he said, tossing his cigarette down and grinding it under his boot. “And he best be glad for it ‘cuz if I see him around here I’mma kick his ass.”

You shook your head at him, a questioning look on your face.

“What?” he prompted.

Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe Daryl Dixon was taken. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “Probably should get back,” you said. Daryl pulled the door open for you and you both breezed back inside.

Things returned to normal for a few days after that. Same old regulars, same old drinks, life went on. But since Daryl’s obvious care and concern for you and Rachel’s comments you were suddenly noticing how you seemed to blush so easily around him… And every time you caught his blue eyes your heart jumped a little in your chest. Maybe it had always been that way and you were just allowing yourself to notice it. You’d always thought he was sweet and handsome, but nothing beyond that had been on your radar. Now that you were tuned in you seemed to be picking up on frequencies you hadn’t registered before.

One day you rushed into the bar, running late and obviously a bit harried. Charlie shot you a look as you tied your apron on. “I know! I know… I’m sorry,” you told him. “My car is on the fritz. It keeps overheating and—anyway, I’m sorry. I’m here,” you finished, grabbing your order pad and a pen.

Merle and Daryl were sitting in their usual places at the bar and you could feel the younger Dixon’s bright blue eyes on you. “Hey—I—I can take a look at it if ya want,” Daryl drawled, looking a little abashed that he was offering.

“Really?” you asked, perking up immediately. “That would be—amazing. Honestly, I can’t spare the cash at the moment to take it to a shop and—”

“‘S’no problem,” Daryl said, spinning his beer glass in his hand and ducking his head again. “Ya just say when.” You grinned widely at him and his heart fluttered.

“Thank you so much. Um, do you have any time tomorrow afternoon? I’m off work.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Sure.”

“Great. Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

Merle watched the exchange with some interest and then got that usual cocky smirk on his face. “Well, why don’t I come by too? While my baby brother services your car, I can help service somethin’ else,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip. He chuckled at the sassy and disapproving look on your face in response.

“Keep dreaming, Merle,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Oh, I will, darlin’.”

The bar was busy that night, but you still found yourself talking with Daryl whenever you had a spare moment. He seemed to be a little less shy the more you spoke, and you found yourself smiling and laughing more than you could remember in a long time. And it was becoming very difficult to ignore those pesky butterflies in your stomach and that warmth in the apples of your cheeks as you talked with the handsome biker and caught his blue eyes.

That night you had trouble sleeping, and as you tossed and turned you couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl and were finding yourself anxious with anticipation for the next afternoon when he said he’d come by. He’s just being nice. Don’t read into it. You had this nasty habit of talking yourself out of thinking anyone was interested in you. Rachel was good at calling you out on it. You subconsciously bit your bottom lip and rolled to your other side. But maybe he really was interested in you… You were realizing you were definitely interested in him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The sound of a motorcycle rumbling up in front of your house and then going quiet brought you to the front window. You peeked out and saw Daryl climbing off his bike. Your heart jumped.

He watched you breeze out onto the front walk and the smile you were giving him was intoxicating. You shoved your hands into your back pockets a little nervously and met him on the driveway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, shifting his weight anxiously from one hip to the other. You were just in jeans and a t-shirt but Daryl still thought you were the most beautiful goddamn thing he’d ever seen. “This the problem car?” he asked, jutting a finger the direction of your car.

You nodded. “Yep. I swear I can’t go two blocks without the damn thing overheating,” you explained.

“Hmm,” he hummed, walking around to the front end. “Pop the hood,” he murmured. You walked around and opened the driver’s side door and pulled the hood latch. Daryl lifted it and was immediately bent over the engine, already peering at this part and wiggling that. You came around to stand beside him and Daryl was finding it hard not to glance over at you.

“Thanks again for doing this,” you said. “You really didn’t need to offer.”

Daryl shrugged. “‘S’nothin. Can’t have ya breakin’ down. That ain’t safe,” he said.

You felt a rush of heat in your chest at his protectiveness. “Well, can I at least get you a beer or something while I totally take advantage of your free labor?”

Daryl turned and one corner of his mouth twitched up. Ugh. Your heart jumped at that boyish smile. “It’s yer day off. Don’t ya think ya’ve brought me enough drinks over the years? We ain’t at the bar.”

You laughed lightly and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s literally the least I can do.”

“Ya gonna have one? I ain’t a fan of drinkin’ alone,” he drawled. You nodded. “Alright. Sure.”

“Great,” you smiled. “I’ll be right back.” When you came back with two cold beers in hand, Daryl was leaning over the engine compartment in deep concentration. You allowed yourself to notice his broad shoulders and strong, toned arms and found yourself subconsciously biting your bottom lip again… Your face flushed. You practically needed to shake yourself out of it. “Here,” you said, offering him one of the beers.

He straightened up and accepted it with a nod. “Thanks.”

You leaned over the engine and peered down at what looked to you like an unknowable mass of metal. “Any luck yet?”

He took a swig of his beer and shrugged. “Well, your radiator seems fine. Coolant level is good, no signs of a leak. Might be a bad water pump. Or could be a few other things I’ll check.”

“I’m just hoping for something cheap and easy to fix,” you said with a laugh.

One corner of Daryl’s mouth twitched up again. He loved your laugh. He never got tired of hearing it. “Ya, I got my fingers crossed for ya too.”

“So, how’d you learn all this stuff? Your dad teach you or something?” you asked curiously.

“Nah. My old man pretty much only ever taught me what not to do,” he muttered, leaning on the edge of the engine compartment and ducking his head a bit.

You felt your heart sink. You sensed something vulnerable there, something painful. “Mmm. I see. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I—”

Daryl’s eyes immediately shot up to your face. “Nah, ya didn’t pry. S’alright.” His blue eyes were still fixed on your face and Daryl let himself drink in the sight of you in this new context. It felt so comfortable, so natural just talking with you, even when he neared things he never revealed to anyone. He wasn’t used to that, but he could get used to it. “Nah, I taught myself. Mostly trial and error. There’ve been times I’ve had a whole lotta nothin’ to do so,” he shrugged.

You nodded, your eyebrows lifting. “I’m impressed,” you said.

He shyly ducked his head again, hoping you wouldn’t see a red flush in his ears and cheeks as he felt them grow warm. “Pfft. It takes that little to impress ya?” he joked.

“No! Come on! Give yourself some credit! I mean it! I have absolutely no mechanical mind at all. As far as I’m concerned, an engine is a magic device that runs on belief,” you laughed shaking your head.

“Nah, c’mon. It ain’t that complicated. The engine just converts energy from the burning gasoline into work. That’s what turns the wheels. You’ve got the cylinders, right? See, your car here is a 4 cylinder. There’s a piston inside each of those cylinders that moves up and down and it’s connected with a rod to the crankshaft and that’s what turns the driveshaft which makes the wheels go. The pistons move down when oxygen and fuel are mixed and ignited. Cuz the gases expand, right?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment before a wide smile grew on your face and you laughed. “Listen, I understood everything you just said in principal but—” you shrugged vaguely, “if you asked me to explain it back in two minutes it’d already be out of my brain. Just let me be impressed with you,” you said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, an amused look on his face. You thought maybe his cheeks were even a little pink as he took a swig out of his beer and turned back toward your car. “Alrigh’. I’ll try,” he said. “Ain’t used to nobody being impressed with my dumb ass.”

“Hey! Dumb ass should never be applied to you!” you argued, giving him a stern look.

“Mmm.” He ducked his head again and tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at your words. “Your house, your rules, I guess,” he drawled.

You leaned over the engine next to him again. “That’s right. Now please fix my damn car,” you said with a laugh.

And Daryl did just that. By the time he was wiping his hands on a red rag that had been dangling out of his back pocket and putting the tools away, you were shocked to see that the afternoon was gone and it was now officially evening. You’d stayed on the driveway with him the whole time, talking easily about everything and nothing at all, not noticing how the hours slid by. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this,” you said as he shut the hood. The handsome biker shrugged.

“Ya don’t need to. S’nothin’.”

You sighed and gave him a look, shaking your head. “You really are way too modest.” Daryl ducked his head shyly and shrugged again. “Well, it’s getting late. Um, did you want to stay for dinner? I was gonna cook something.”

He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed it anxiously for a minute, hardly believing you’d just offered that. He wanted to say yes, but part of him talked back. She’s just bein’ nice. She feels obligated… “Nah, thas alright. Ya probably are sick of me by now,” he said finally.

You shook your head again. “Except I’m really not, Daryl.”

His eyes snapped over to your face and he hesitated again but his nerves got the best of him. “Nah, thanks but—I should go. Gotta check up on Merle, ya know?”

You nodded but couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “Sure. Okay. Well, hey, raincheck then. You can come over some other time. I’m a good cook,” you said. “I mean, when is the last time you had a homecooked meal?”

“Uhh—” He tried to remember if he’d ever had one…

“That’s too long,” you said. “You just say when and we’ll make it happen.” You gulped and touched him lightly on the arm. His blue eyes left your face and flickered down to the point of contact between the two of you. It was electrifying and when your fingers slipped from him, he really wished they wouldn’t. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Daryl, thanks again. I really mean it. Now I won’t piss Charlie off tomorrow. I’ll actually be on time again.”

“Yeah. No problem. I’ll see ya,” he said, gathering the small bag of tools he’d brought over.

You grinned at him and felt your cheeks color. “I hope so,” you said. He gave you a somewhat baffled look and shyly murmured another goodbye. You watched as he climbed on his bike and sped away. The last thing you caught sight of were the angel wings on the back of his jacket and you thought of how wonderfully fitting that was. Even if Rachel was wrong and Daryl wasn’t taken with you, you were starting to realize you were now completely taken with him. And you didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day at work started off insanely busy. Customers seemed to be coming in earlier than usual and you were slammed far sooner than you expected with food and drink orders. But after an initial rush, things slowed way down, and that was about the time that the Dixon brothers wandered in and took their usual seats at the bar.

Daryl looked for you immediately out of habit as he walked in and was surprised to meet your eyes which were already on him. You broke into a small smile and Daryl’s heart jumped. As soon as you could, you came over to say hello.

“Hi,” you said with an even wider grin, leaning on the bar top.

“Hey,” Daryl returned.

Merle was looking between the two of you, noting the smiles and intense eye contact. He laughed. “You two do more than fixin’ a car yesterday or what? Huh?” He nudged his elbow into Daryl hard, whose jaw clenched. The younger Dixon gave his older brother a look which could properly be described as a death glare.

“Shut the fuck up, Merle,” Daryl growled.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you said to Merle, straightening up, shooting him a smirk.

“Ahh, come on. I’m just teasing you. I know my baby brother ain’t really man enough to—”

“You know, I think I know what you were about to say and I’m gonna tell you I have a very hard time believing that to be true,” you interrupted, leaning toward Merle over the counter, your voice taking on a tone that was soft but dangerous. “I think you might need to reevaluate who the real man is between the two of you.” You straightened up and shot Daryl a warm look that made his throat constrict. “Be nice,” you scolded Merle, “or I’ll ignore you for good. You’ll be stuck listening to nothing but Charlie’s same stupid jokes.”

Daryl watched in disbelief as you breezed away across the bar and he tried to gulp at the tightness in his throat.

Merle was staring after you too, obviously looking you up and down, and he let out a low whistle. “She’s way too good for you, little brother.”

Daryl nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip and simply let out a hum of acknowledgement. Don’t I fucking know it.

Since things were so slow, you had plenty of time to chat with Daryl at the bar. Merle eventually wandered away to play some noisy rounds of pool with some fellow bikers and you were glad for his absence. Daryl was so much more relaxed without his brother sitting beside him and making snide or sarcastic comments…

“How are ya doin’?” Daryl asked pointedly. “I mean since… ya know, that night. Ya gotta go to court?”

You avoided his eyes now, feeling that same wave of shame cresting again as you thought about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend and what he’d done to you. “Not sure yet,” you said. “I think the lawyers are still doing their legal maneuvering. Depends on if he pleads guilty or not.”

Daryl felt suddenly anxious about broaching such a sensitive topic with you. Yeah, that’s what she wants to think about, dumbass. “‘M sorry. I shouldn’ta asked. Ain’t none of my business,” he said urgently.

“No! No, it’s okay! I, umm, I appreciate it actually… It’s—I’m okay,” you said. “I feel safe knowing he’s in jail.”

“Mm,” Daryl agreed with a nod. “They get… evidence? He gonna stay there ya think?” He was seized by a sudden and unexplainable intense worry. He knew plenty of asshole men like your ex and most of them didn’t give up easily and they didn’t take any perceived slight lying down.

“Well, I had to go to the police station afterwards and give a statement. They took pictures of everything. And I went to the hospital, so they have the reports…” You trailed off for a moment. “They got statements from my neighbor who called 9-1-1.”

Daryl nodded. “If ya ever need anything, ya just gotta ask,” he said seriously.

He watched the worry on your face soften as you nodded. “Thanks, Daryl.” God, he loved the sound of his name leaving your lips.

Your shift was over and you gathered up your purse from the back and dropped off your apron and order pad behind the bar, saying goodbye to Charlie. Daryl was still sitting up at the bar and Merle was playing pool, so you were glad to have a brief exchange with the handsome biker again without his obnoxious older brother around. “Well, I’m exhausted,” you said. “At least I can go out to my car and know it’ll get me home without a problem now.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t have ya broken down somewhere this time of night. ‘Specially by yourself.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see ya, Daryl. And I mean it about that homecooked meal!” you said with a smile.

He nudged his nose up in a nod and watched you disappear through the door into the parking lot. He raised a finger to the bartender. “Gimme a double whiskey.”

Charlie was just sliding the drink over when Daryl thought he heard something from the direction of the door and he spun on his stool. It looked like someone had partially opened it, but nobody came in and nobody had gone out and the door slammed closed. He stared at it intensely for a moment, unsure why the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing on end. Probably just the wind or something…

It was just then that he heard a scream from outside in the parking lot and Daryl was immediately on his feet and out the door. He saw red as he took in the scene. Your fucking douchebag, abusive ex was trying to force you into a car and you were struggling with him, fighting as hard as you could. Your purse was on the ground beside your vehicle a distance away and Daryl could see drag marks in the gravel where he’d obviously surprised you and dragged you away. He had a firm grip on your upper arm and with the other hand had a fistful of your hair. You were struggling with everything you had, yelling and fighting, but he was a lot bigger than you. It was a battle you would have lost, despite your tenacity.

But Daryl was a blur of action. Rushing him, he swung a fist and punched him hard across the face. You fell hard to the ground as his grip on you disappeared completely. You scrambled up and out of the way as best you could, but you were dazed and having trouble breathing through your panic. You suddenly realized that there were terrified tears pouring down your face. You were trembling.

Daryl was pulling Mark up by the front of his jacket and slammed his fist into his face again. Your ex dropped to the ground hard. He was still on the ground when he kicked Daryl in the shin, knocking him off balance. Daryl landed on his back in the dirt. “Mark, stop!” you screamed. You watched in horror as Mark pulled out a knife, the same one he’d told you he had when he jumped you, the same one you had briefly felt in the small of your back as he demanded compliance. Mark started moving toward Daryl’s prone figure. You felt your face blanche completely. But Daryl was faster and a better fighter and he was back on his feet in no time, keeping clear of the knife as Mark swiped toward him with it. Charlie and the other bar patrons had come out to see what was happening and the bartender had rushed back inside and was now on the phone with 9-1-1. You were screaming at Mark, trying desperately to reason with him, but he might as well have been totally deaf for all the attention he paid you.

Daryl took an opportunity and knocked him back on his ass again with a good punch and then kicked the knife out of his hand. It skidded away on the gravel and you breathed some small sigh of relief. Daryl landed over him and was punching him repeatedly in the face as police lights flashed brighter and sirens droned louder. The cops had arrived. “Daryl!” You rushed forward. “Daryl, stop! It’s okay!” You grabbed his shoulder and he immediately froze, fist cocked back, knuckles bloodied, chest heaving. Another moment and there were cops rushing over and pulling him away. One officer immediately led you a short distance away and you watched helplessly as both Daryl and Mark were put in handcuffs and then taken away in squad cars practically before you registered what was happening. “Wait—he didn’t—No, it was Mark. He—Daryl was protecting me! He—he tried to take me and—" You were trying to explain, trying to get the words out but it was all jumbled and rushed.

“Ma’am, slow down. Take a breath! Slow down! Okay. It’s okay,” the officer coached you.

“It wasn’t his fault!” you said urgently. Just then an ambulance pulled up and the EMTs jumped out. They raced over to you and you could tell by the looks on their faces that you must be a mess, red-faced and crying. You had no idea that you were bleeding from a laceration in your forehead where Mark had bashed your head into the car as he tried to force you inside. You had no idea that your neck looked raw and red, already revealing broken blood vessels and the obvious start of bruising from his hands around your throat. There was almost a visible hand impression on your upper arm where he’d grabbed you. “You—you took both of them but Daryl didn’t—”

The officer and the EMTs continued trying to calm you down. You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that most of the patrons had skipped out as soon as they’d heard the sirens, or perhaps as soon as Charlie had run for the phone. There were only a couple left and of course Charlie as well being questioned. You rounded on the cop again. “Just take me down to the station! I’ll give you a statement and then—then you have to let Daryl go! He didn’t do anything wrong. He saved me,” you gasped, the full weight of what had happened still not hitting you.

“Ma’am, you need stitches,” one of the EMTs told you gently. “Come on. We need to go to the hospital.” His partner pushed the cop back who was intent only on questioning you.

It was like all of a sudden, the adrenaline in your bloodstream vanished and you were exhausted and the pain started to set in. You glanced back over your shoulder and met Charlie’s eyes, he nodded and gave you a worried look before you turned back to the cop and the EMTs. “My—my purse is—” you gestured to where it was lying beside your car.

“We’ll have someone bring it to you after we get photographs, okay?” the cop said. You allowed yourself to be guided into the ambulance, shock starting to set in.

The doctors in the ER wouldn’t let the police question you while they patched you up and you were grateful for that. Besides, there was no chance of what had happened fading in your memory. To the contrary, every bit of it was burned in your mind despite how fast it had all happened. But you needed a goddamn minute to process it. He was out. How the fuck was he out of jail? And why the fuck hadn’t anyone warned you? You’d just stopped beside your car, ready to put the key in the lock when something hit you hard in the head from behind and you remembered dropping to your knees, stunned and with black vision. You’d heard his voice and made a break for the door into the bar. You’d actually gotten your hand on the handle and pushed but you were grabbed and pulled back violently. And then you’d just fought as hard as you could, tooth and nail. You knew if you got into that car, there was a good chance you were going to end up dead. He wasn’t in his right mind.

It was hard to believe this was the same Mark you’d been in a relationship with. He’d never been the least bit violent toward you, but the drugs… as soon as he started using again, he was a different person. But even then, even after he’d beat you up, you never would have expected this.

Once you’d been treated and released at the hospital, you found yourself sitting in the police station with a little Styrofoam cup of tea clutched between your hands, and some cop’s coat draped around your shoulders. The interview room was uncomfortably cold, but the numbness of shock and disbelief superseded the sensation of the chill air, though you were vaguely aware that you were shivering.

A detective came in and sat across from you at the little table and you looked up at him as he settled into his chair. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, readying his pen over his notepad. “I’m Detective Peters,” he said, checking his watch. “It is Thursday, April 28th, and 10 minutes past 11.” You’d given a statement just days earlier. You knew how this worked. You knew he was marking the date and time for the recording that the little, inconspicuous camera up in the corner was taking. “Alright, Y/N. I’m really sorry to see you again so soon under these circumstances.” He was the detective who was handling your domestic violence case too.

“Yeah, well, so am I,” you said, gritting your teeth a little. The numbness receded a little and was replaced by anger. “How the fuck is it that he was out of jail? He tried to kill me. How was he out? And why didn’t anyone contact me?” you demanded.

“He bonded out. And, yes, I’m sorry… we should have notified you. But we never considered him to be this much of a danger.”

“You never considered him to be this much of a danger?” you repeated incredulously. “We discussed a protection order. I don’t think that implies that everything is peachy.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He paused. “But we need to go over everything that happened tonight and get a statement from you.”

“I’ve already been questioned three times,” you said, exhausted and exasperated. “Why did you arrest Daryl? He saved me. He’s the reason I’m sitting here right now instead of being… I don’t know, maybe dead in a ditch somewhere. Are you still holding him? Is he still here?”

“It was chaos when the officers got there. We need to get everyone’s statements to sort this all out, okay? We didn’t know who was the aggressor or—”

You sighed heavily and shook your head. “Fine. Let’s just do the statement.” You walked him through everything that had happened and consented to have more pictures taken of your injuries; the laceration on your scalp, the bruises around your neck, the handprint on your arm, the scrapes and bruises and cuts on your knees. By the end of it you were so tired you weren’t seeing straight, but the detective stood up and you glanced up when you sensed he was looking down at you.

“Wait here just a few more minutes. I’ll be back,” he said. He left you alone in that little room again and you slumped forward, resting your head on your arms at the little table, completely spent and hurting all over. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when Detective Peters came back in.

“Y/N? Follow me,” he said. You obeyed and walked blindly after him through the station until he unlocked a heavy metal door and pushed through into a room lined with a couple holding cells.

You perked up and breezed past him, scanning the room for Daryl immediately. He jumped up from where he’d been slumped on a metal bench in one of the cells as you rushed over to him. He met you at the bars. “Are you okay?” you asked him urgently. You ignored the twinge in your forehead from your stitches as you furrowed your brow.

“Me? Are ya kiddin’?” he drawled, peering down at you with nothing but concern. “Are you?” His stomach twisted at the sight of your injuries.

You knew you couldn’t get any words out through the bubble of emotion caught in your throat so you only nodded. The clinking of keys behind you drew your attention and you stepped back as Detective Peters moved forward. He slid a key into the heavy lock and turned it, sliding the cell open and gesturing to Daryl that he could exit.

“I’m sorry about throwing you in here,” the detective said. “Everything in your statements matches up, so you’re free to go, with my thanks.” He extended a hand toward Daryl who eyed it with distaste for a moment.

“I don’t want yer thanks. I want ya to do a goddamn better job. This was too fuckin’ close. Never shoulda happened,” he spat. The detective looked regretful and nodded, dropping his hand back to his side.

“Daryl,” you said softly, gently grabbing his arm, trying to reroute the conversation. You were just grateful that he was no longer in a cell. Daryl’s eyes met yours and his expression softened immediately.

Detective Peters sighed. “I’ve got one of my guys waiting to drive you both home. Y/N, they have your items for you up front too. Again… I’m really sorry. But I can assure you that Mark won’t be getting out anytime soon after this.”

“The fuck is wrong with the damn laws? Girl almost had to die before ya’ll got up off your asses,” Daryl spat angrily again. You gently touched his arm again and he relaxed some, glancing down at you and sighing.

As you were settling into the squad car to be driven home, Daryl felt your eyes on his face and he glanced over and took in the wide-eyed expression underneath the fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted you.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Could I—I’ve got no right to ask you for anything after what you’ve already done but… could I ask you for another favor?” you said quietly.

Daryl stared back at you intently, feeling suddenly nervous under your eyes. If you’d asked him for the moon at that moment, he would have fucking figured out how to give it to you. He nodded. “Course.”

You wrung your hands nervously. “I’d feel better if—if you’d stay at my place tonight. I know it isn’t rational and that he’s—he’s locked up but I’d feel safer. But if that’s too much to ask I completely understand. You’ve already done more than enough and I—”

“Ain’t no problem. I’ll stay,” he said simply. You thought of him as safety. He didn’t think anyone in his life had ever seen him that way.

You felt a wave of relief and it was visible on your face. You shut your eyes briefly, again feeling beyond exhausted and hurting almost head to toe. “Thank you,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

Daryl nodded and ripped his eyes away from you. You leaned forward and gave your address to the cop and in no time you were both climbing out at the end of your driveway.

You stood at the front door and dug your keys out of your purse. Daryl noticed how much you were shaking as you tried to fit the key into the lock and his face contorted with concern. “Here,” he said gently, his hand enclosing over yours and taking the key from you before slotting it into the lock. His heart jumped at the contact and he did his best to ignore it. Now wasn’t the damn time.

“Thanks,” you murmured, accepting the keys from him again and pushing inside ahead of him.

Daryl softly shut and locked the door behind the two of you and stood a little awkwardly on the front mat. You moved stiffly across the front room and into the kitchen, clicking on the light. Daryl heard you shifting some things around before you returned with a cloth in one hand and a small bag of ice in the other.

You nudged your head toward the couch and he anxiously chewed on his bottom lip but obeyed and took a seat. You sank down beside him, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, but he knew better than to argue as you pulled his hand over toward you and dabbed at the dried blood across his knuckles. They were split and puffy from their repeated connection with that prick’s face. Worth it. When you were satisfied that they were cleaned up enough, you laid the cloth and then the ice across them and glanced up at his face.

There seemed to be something you wanted to say, something in your expression that took Daryl aback, but before he could decode it, it vanished and you just looked defeated and weary. Daryl swallowed his nerves and nodded at you. “Go on to bed. I’ll be right here all night,” he said.

You gave him another long look before nodding and climbing to your feet with no small amount of effort. “Thank you,” you said, and you hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper, but it did. He only nodded back before ducking his head and avoiding your gaze, feeling a little overwhelmed. You managed to trudge to your bedroom and practically poured yourself into bed, still in all your clothes. Feeling safe, knowing Daryl was out on the couch, you sank into a heavy sleep almost immediately.

The next morning you awoke early with the birds, stiff and aching. You clutched a hand to your head, wincing when it landed flush onto the stitches in your forehead. “Fuck,” you muttered, climbing out of bed. You went straight for the bathroom and took some painkillers, pausing to run a comb through your hair and wash your face. You tenderly touched the bruises on your neck and your arm and frowned. You looked a proper mess… You felt a wave of shame and embarrassment before struggling to shove those feelings down. You changed, feeling a little better, and quietly moving through the house, heading for the kitchen and the coffee pot.

Daryl was laid out on the couch, still fast asleep and your heart jumped at the sight of him there. He had his head resting on one of the throw pillows and was stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, hands resting on his stomach. You couldn’t help but smile at how boyish he looked asleep and there was a wash of heat running through you as you finally tore your eyes away and padded softly into the kitchen.

Coffee brewing, you pulled ingredients out of the fridge and went about making some breakfast. In the other room, Daryl woke up to the sound of you cooking and the smell of bacon. He sat up and shifted on the couch, stretching and feeling a little self-conscious that you had obviously walked through and seen him asleep. He hastily ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth down any craziness that might be going on.

Your voice from the doorway into the kitchen drew his eyes. “Hey. Morning.”

You had a goddamn smile for him. Despite what you’d gone through the previous night, you were smiling. At him.

“Hey,” he returned. “Ya get some sleep?”

You nodded and stepped out into the living room, a mug in your hand. “I did.” You were sure your face was coloring pink. “Thanks for staying. Um, do you drink coffee?” you asked, gesturing with the cup in your hands.

He nodded. “Sure,” he said, climbing to his feet. You met him halfway and pushed the mug into his hands. The ceramic was warm and Daryl looked down at the spirals of steam curling away from the surface.

You disappeared for a moment and returned with your own mug. “I’ve got breakfast cooking if you’re hungry,” you said, sinking down onto the now empty couch. Daryl gulped and took a spot at the other end from you.

You took a sip, annoyed at how fast your heart was racing as you looked at the handsome biker on the other end of your couch. “How’s your hand?” you asked him.

He pulled it off the mug and flexed and curled his fingers a few times. It was deeply bruised and the knuckles were definitely still swollen. “S’fine,” he drawled. In truth it hurt, but far less than looking at what was left on your skin from what you’d endured. “How are ya?” A shadow darkened his face for a moment with worry.

You nodded a little hesitantly. “I’ll be okay. Took some painkillers so…”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously for a moment. “‘M real sorry any of this happened to ya. Ya don’t deserve that.”

You gulped nervously. “Thanks…” You gave him another little smile, this one a little sad, but it seemed like your face brightened quickly again as you looked at him. He ducked his head.

In truth, Daryl couldn’t believe this was real. He’d pined after you for years, subsisting purely on a quick smile here and a word there as you simply did your job. If someone had told him a month earlier that he’d be sitting your house with you sipping coffee he would have thought they were batshit crazy. This was a long way from waking up in that dingy, smoky motel room with Merle bitching about needing another fix even before he could throw the blankets off. He’d never dared to think he would have anything like this, anything nice and normal. Not that he really had it… But even if this was a temporary, singular event it was doing something like filling him up and showing him that life wasn’t all just shit.

You were studying him as he seemed lost in thought, occasionally taking a sip of coffee, and you watched some anxiety cross his face. “C’mon and eat something with me. It’s the least I can do,” you said, nudging your head in the direction of the kitchen. Daryl glanced up and nudged his nose up in a nod before following you in.

You grinned a few minutes later as you sat across from each other at your little kitchen table and Daryl ate ravenously. He was suddenly self-conscious as he realized you were staring at him and he hastily wiped his mouth on his sleeve, but you only leaned your chin on your hand and continued looking at him with that little smile on your lips. It didn’t seem to belong there when you had fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted, sensing there was something on your mind.

You shrugged and finally looked back down at your own plate. “Nothing. This is—this is nice,” you said.

Daryl gulped. “What is?”

“I don’t know. Just… this. Breakfast with you.”

Daryl’s heart jumped but he nodded in agreement, trying his hardest not to give in to the thoughts of self-doubt and inadequacy. It was nice. It was more than nice. He felt like he had fallen through a wormhole into an alternate reality.

You set your mug down and gave him a long look. “I’m a little surprised you weren’t scared away,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t blame you if you had wanted to just distance yourself from the girl with the psycho ex… Go back to me just being your waitress at the bar.” You twirled your mug in your hands, looking anywhere but at him.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he studied your somewhat ashamed expression. “Nah. None of this is your fault. And—anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

Your eyes shot up to his face and this time his blue eyes held yours steadily. You didn’t know inside he was reeling. The atmosphere between the two of you felt suddenly thick and heavy, charged with electricity and hopeful expectations. Right when you were about to say something, or maybe do something the phone rang and you were startled out of that bubble of tension. You jumped a little and laughed abashedly before going to answer it.

Daryl let out a breath he hadn’t been holding and climbed to his feet, grabbing the dishes and piling them into the sink simply for something to do while you were on the phone. It was a quick call and when you turned around Daryl was rubbing a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. “Well, thanks for breakfast. I should probably get goin. Get outta yer hair’,” he drawled. He was sure you’d had enough of him by now.

“Oh,” you said. Wait, did that sound like disappointment?

Daryl gulped. “Ya should rest today. Take it easy,” he said. You nodded and wrung your hands a little nervously.

“I’ll try,” you said. You followed him out into the front room and watched as he pulled the door open and stepped outside, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “Thanks again. For… saving my life and staying and…” you trailed off.

Daryl was very aware that his heart was racing and that there suddenly seemed to be an expanding empty space between his lungs as he got ready to walk down your steps. “Yeah, uhh… don’t mention it. I’ll see ya.”

You gave him one final small smile and he turned away, giving you a clear view of the wings on the back of his vest. Something about the sight of those jolted you out of your hesitation and into action. You squeezed your eyes shut and swore under your breath, stepping out onto the stairs and touching his shoulder.

Daryl turned back in surprise and saw you looking a little wide-eyed and breathless. “Ya alright?”

You gulped down your nerves and looped your arms around his neck, your eyes closing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, one of your hands moving to clasp his face, feeling the angles of his jaw and the stubble on his skin. It was soft and sweet, but your nerves got the better of you and you pulled back, anxious to take in his expression. He was on the step below you so his blue eyes were even with yours and you thought they were a little searching or maybe a little stunned.

His hands were suddenly on your waist, and it made him flush with heat, his eyes flickering between yours. His heart was pounding so hard and so fast he was worried you’d hear it. “Uhh… are ya sure this is a good idea right now?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

He watched a faint smile cross your lips and you nodded, your arms around his neck still. “Yeah. Best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

Daryl didn’t need any more encouragement. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back and pulled you into him while the other floated to clasp your face and tangle into your hair. Your lips crashed together, needy and sweet at first but building in heat as you both realized how long you had wanted this and how much better it was than you had even hoped. You smiled into his lips and pulled him more tightly into you, pressing your body against his. Daryl’s lips softened against yours and his hand smoothed through your hair to the nape of your neck as you pulled back just enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“Come back inside,” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

His eyes closed at the sensation and he nervously licked his lips. “If ya want me to.” He needed to hear it for it to be true, for this to be real.

You grinned at him, biting your bottom lip. “I want you to. Daryl, I—I wanted to kiss you last night. As soon as you were out of that stupid jail cell, but… I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because I was—scared or concussed or something… So, come back inside and spend the day with me... Please?”

His expression softened and his lips curved in a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Alright,” he said, understated for the wild happiness and disbelief he was truly feeling. You were solid underneath his hands. His palm was flush to your lower back and you were leaning into him. “Anythin’ ya want.”

You shook your head at him and gave him a fond look. “Just you.”

[capseycartwright]

what about buddie + small town au for the short fics ?

Buck had never imagined he’d end up back in his hometown, years after he first left - but after years of travelling, it had sort of made sense to end up back in small town Texas. He’d trained with the fire department in Dallas, and transferred up to the bend-in-the-road town he’d grown up in and (mostly) hadn’t looked back.

He’d had his reasons.

It just turned out that his reasons had ran as far from their hometown as they could, in the end. Buck - he’d been hurt by it, but he hadn’t been bitter about it, he wasn’t bitter about it. Life just - life wasn’t meant to work out in their favour, but that didn’t mean life was bad. Buck had bought a house, a house of his own, and he had a job he loved, and his sister was back in his life, and he could be happy. Really, he could.

August in Texas was one of Buck’s favourite times of the year. Not the beginning of the month, no, but toward the end of August, as the weather slowly started to change, and the sunsets seemed to get longer and more golden and fiery and orange, and it reminded Buck of those long hot Texas summers he’d lived so many of, growing up, working long shifts at the grocery store, and -

Well, being with Eddie.

Eddie Diaz. Eddie Diaz was Buck’s reason for leaving, and he’d been Buck’s reason for coming home. Buck had been a freshman, when Eddie was a sophomore, and Buck had been head over heels for him from the moment he’d spotted him at tryouts for the baseball team - Eddie had been a vice-captain, and Buck had trailed along after him like a sad puppy, frankly, and it hadn’t been until the summer after Buck’s freshman year of high-school that Eddie Diaz had picked him up in his beat up old pickup truck and they’d gotten milkshakes and driven out into the desert and Eddie had kissed him like Buck was worth something and he’d spent the whole summer desperately in love.

That was why Buck loved August.

He loved August - and he hated September, because that was when Eddie had ended it, and shattered Buck’s heart into a million pieces. He’d sort of held onto the desperate hope that Eddie might come back to him again, but then he’d heard from Eddie’s mom that he’d moved up to Austin, to go to college, and he’d dropped out and gone and gotten fucking married and six months later Eddie was a goddamn dad and Buck had ran as far and as fast as the could.

Still.

August reminded Buck of happier times.

Switching on the hose, Buck set about rinsing off the soap from the firetruck wheels. Dallas had been hectic, and busy, and constantly moving, and life back at home was quieter, and there was time for chores in the firehouse - and Buck always volunteered to wash the truck, just so he could watch the sunset, or the sunrise, the front doors of the firehouse garage open and the golden sand of the Texas desert stretching out for miles ahead of him.

It was a reminder, in a way, that regardless of how much it felt like everyone in town was in Buck’s business (especially his dating business), he was still a tiny, insignificant speck in the grand scheme of the universe. It was oddly comforting.

“Hey, hotshot.”

The voice was unbearably familiar, as Buck slowly turned to see Eddie standing in the doorway of the firehouse. He was still in his fatigues, and Buck tried to swallow the angry bitterness that rose in his throat as he gazed at the familiar camouflage print, Diaz printed in black, blocky letters on Eddie’s chest.

He’d clearly just gotten home.

Eddie’s smile was the same, soft, half-crooked smile it was when he was eighteen and he was at the centre of Buck’s entire universe. “I heard you’ve moved home,” he continued, voice soft. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here again.”

Buck twisted the hose he was holding in his hands, careful fingers smoothing out the line before he replied. “I thought I had a reason to come home,” he said simply, looking everywhere except at Eddie. “But I was wrong. Clearly.”

“Buck….” Eddie stepped forward, his forehead creased with worry.

“Eddie, don’t,” Buck shook his head. “You called me, from fucking Afghanistan, crying, because you missed me, and you begged me to come home - and when I got home, Shannon was the one to tell me that you’d reenlisted. Without telling me, Eddie.”

“I had to, Buck.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Eddie - it might work with your parents, or Shannon, but it’s not going to work with me,” Buck dropped the hose, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d wanted Eddie for the last ten goddamn years, and he still wanted him more than he had the words for, and he fucking hated the bones of Eddie Diaz for making him want him, still, even after all this time.

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I was terrified,” he admitted. “The divorce papers - they’d just been finalised, and I was terrified because I didn’t know how I was going to be a father to Christopher when our family was so broken - and all because of me,” he paused, voice shaking slightly as he looked intently at Buck. “And I was terrified of how I felt about you, Buck - because we were together for one summer, and somehow you’re all I’ve ever wanted since.”

“Eddie.” Buck didn’t know what to say - how to react.

“I know I can’t fix everything with a few nice words and an apology, Buck,” Eddie said, moving his hand, the bandage on his wrist visible for the first time. “But I’m here - for good, this time. So, I - uh, if you’d have me, Evan, I’d like to take you on a date. A real first date, this time - with dinner and drinks and not in the back of my truck.”

Buck couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I seem to remember us having a lot of fun in the back of your truck, that summer,” he teased, enjoying the way Eddie’s face flushed the most delightful shade of pink. “Eddie - I’m not the same person I was, ten years ago.”

“Neither am I,” Eddie reassured. “But I’m excited to get to know the person you are now, Buck. No - no stress, no expectations. Just me and you.”

And, well -

Maybe Buck didn’t hate September all that much, anymore.

send me a pairing & an au setting and i’ll write you a mini fic

[companionjones]

Twilight Rewrite Companion Jones Style

Fandom: Twilight (Movies)

Pairings: Edward Cullen x Reader, Rosalie Hale x Emmett Cullen, Alice Cullen x Jasper Hale, Esme Cullen x Carlisle Cullen

Warnings: Abuse, Cursing, Extreme violence toward the Reader, Edward’s still centuries old and Reader’s still a teenager, This is so fucking long

Author’s Note: I have a weird relationship with Twilight. When the movies were first coming out, I was in middle school. I went to a very small middle school, and the group of girls that I was stuck being “friends” with since I was 4 years old were not very nice to me. I didn’t know they were straight up bullying me at the time, but I still took it upon myself to quietly hate everything that they liked. Twilight was their obsession. Their love grew to the point where this group of 11-12 year olds intensely pretended to be vampires themselves for 2 years (which honestly is nothing out of the normal for girls that age). Because they loved Twilight so much, I absolutely hated it. It didn’t help that I once had bruises on my wrist because one of them bit me there.

    Fast forward to 8th grade. The girls I was still sort of friends with had mostly fallen out of their old obsession. Yet, Twilight found it’s way back into my life. Up until that point, I had only read Babysitter’s Club, Magic Treehouse, and Dork Diaries. The first YA books I ever read were Twilight. This was because of my mother. She’s an avid reader. Somehow, Twilight is one of her favorite book series. She’s read all 4 books 4 times. Upon realizing that I was getting into reading myself, she practically (lovingly) forced me to read them. I read them the second half of my 8th grade year, and the first half of my freshman year (I didn’t usually read during the summer). I guess I liked reading them because, after all, they were still my first heavy reading books I’ve ever read. But even while I was reading them I still didn’t like Bella. I still found her annoying. Not as annoying as the movies, but still annoying.

    As I got older, I became more and more aware that I wasn’t the only person who didn’t like Twilight. They were actually objectively bad movies. Because I was into Tumblr and Fandom in general, I was vaguely aware of how they Twilight fandom thought and acted. Most of them hated Twilight just as much as I did. But they still got so much love out of it. I liked that.

    I decided to watch the first movie again a few months ago. I had been fighting the urge for a while. The bottom line was that I went through a small Robert Pattinson phase, and how can you go through a Robert Pattinson phase without rewatching Twilight? While rewatching it, a scene popped into my head that you will read in this rewrite. I won’t give it away because it’s technically a spoiler. From that scene, the whole rewrite started to develop in my head, and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I started writing it down. So, here we are.

    As of right now, this rewrite will only be the first movie. Because of that, I will not be including Jacob or any of the wolves. They don’t play that big of a role in the first movie, and it’s less for me to write. I really hope I won’t rewrite the other movies as well. Rewrites are a lot of work.

    This has been the longest Author’s Note I’ve ever written. Let’s get into the story.

*******

    Man, the internet wasn’t kidding when it said that it was almost always cloudy in the state of Washington.

    My dad decided to move us to a small town called Forks of all places. I remember him mumbling something about his cousin giving him a house here for cheap.

    His room is on the first floor of the house while mine is on the second, and they’re on totally opposite sides of the house. So, that’s nice. And it’s not like I’ going to argue against him about moving, anyway.

    Everyone’s staring at me on my first day of school. I must be their only source of entertainment, being the one new kid in a small town. I’m not a fan of their stares.

    With enough death glares, I manage to get most people’s eyes off me by lunch. That is, until I feel yet another gaze burning a hole into the side of my head. This one is more intense than the others. That doesn’t stop me from whipping my head in its direction.

    The source takes me off guard, though I try not to show it. He is unbelievably handsome, and he is sitting at a table filled with equally attractive individuals. His stare is unflinching. He’s staring at me like I’m an enigma. Like I don’t belong.

    First of all, what the fuck. How rude do you need to be?

    I send him back a look that obviously says, ‘What are you looking at, asshole?’ and that gets him to focus back on his food.

    The next time I see him is Biology. I didn’t think it was possible to happen so fast, but my opinion of him drops even more.

    I catch his name from the teacher when he asks me to sit next to him. Edward. It’s nice to put a name to the gorgeous, yet completely inconsiderate boy.

    Throughout the whole class, it looks like he is going to throw up. He makes it obvious enough that it’s apparently my fault. Does he have a sensory problem or something? Literally no one has ever reacted to me this way.

    He’s so anxious to get away from me that he takes off a second before the bell rings. Asshole.

    I run into him again at the guidance office. He’s trying to get out of Biology, the class he has with me. They deny him, and he rushes past me, mumbling he’ll “just have to endure it.” Asshole!

    Late that night, I’m crying in bed when I hear a sound at the window. It scares me. I go check it out. It scares me even more when I a m reminded that my windows don’t have locks. At least my door has a lock and I’m on the second floor. Who would climb to the second floor of a house just to get to me? Who even could? To able to sleep, I tell myself that the sound was just something random made by a house I’m not used to. Unexpectedly, I dream of Edward.

    He’s absent for the next week of school. When he does show, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

    He tries talking to me. “Hello.” Awkward start. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last week. I’m Edward Cullen. You’re Y/n L/n?”

    I can’t believe my ears. “You’re talking to me now?”

    Edward doesn’t get a chance to respond. The teacher starts talking. He instructs us to identify some stages of mitosis. Edward offers me the microscope.

    “I’m glad I’m smelling better today.” I passive-aggressively remark, peering into the scope. “Prophase.”

    As he scribbles my answer onto the worksheet, he scrambles for an excuse. “Oh, you thought that was about you? No. I had a bad lunch that day.”

    “One bad lunch has you out of school for a week?” I sarcastically wonder. “Anaphase.”

    He responds, “I had...food poisoning.”

    “Right. And what I saw in guidance?” Admit you fine me repulsive. “Metaphase.”

    Worst rationalization yet. “I just don’t like this class.”

    That marks the end to the little back-and-forth we had going. The thought crosses my mind that maybe I shouldn’t have grilled him, but he was behaving like an asshole, so I returned the favor.

    Though, again, he is acting very different today. A lot more positive. In an attempt to change the subject, he even asks me, “So, are you enjoying the rain?”

    “You’re asking me about the weather?”

    “Yeah. I guess I am.” He seems almost as surprised by his actions as I am.

    I decide to play nice. “It’s definitely something to get used to. Do you like it?”

    He chuckles. It must be some kind of inside joke with himself. “I have no choice.”

    “Who were those people you were sitting with at lunch? Your friends?” I keep the conversation going.

    Edward smiles. “They’re my siblings,” he explains, “Well, adoptive brothers and sisters, but we’ve been together so long that it feels no different. Y’know?” He clearly loves them very much. He also has a smirk on his face that tells me we’ve run into another one of his inside jokes. I wonder if his family understands them.

    “That’s really nice that you’ve found each other.”

    He continues, “None of it would’ve been possible without Carlisle, my adoptive father. He brought all of us together.”

    For the first time, I smile at Edward. Maybe I was too hard on him. Maybe he was just having a bad day when I met him. I know all about those. He doesn’t seem too bad, now that he’s opening up.

    The way that his faces, I can tell he’s not used to sharing this much this fast about himself. It’s sweet. He focuses more on the project we’re working on.

    When class ends, Edward follows me out into the hallway, and I manage to get him talking about his family again. “So your sisters are Rosalie and Alice, and they are respectively together with your brothers Emmett and Jasper?”

    He shrugs, “I know it sounds weird, but--”

    “No, it’s fine,” I reassure, “I mean, yeah, this is a bit of a gray area, but you all weren’t raised together. So I think that makes it alright.”

    He smiles. I think people at this school look at them like outsiders. Having someone listen and understand must be refreshing to him. He clears his throat, and tries to steer the conversation off of himself. “So, why did you move here? Your parents couldn’t have made you move and change schools for no reason.”

    We arrive at my locker. “Well, it’s just me and my dad. My mom died in child birth.” I’m okay with sharing this bit about myself because he’s spent the last 45 minutes giving me his life story.

    Unsurprisingly, he is shocked and empathetic. “Oh, my god. I am so sorry.”

    “It’s okay,” I brush off. I can’t help but smile at his heightened concern. “It’s not like you could have known...Hey,” my smile fades, “What’s with your eyes?”

    It’s like he knows the answer, but wants me to say something different. “What do you mean?”

    “I thought they were, like, dark brown or something, but now they’re light ember--”

    He’s quick to cover. “It’s...the fluorescents.” And just like that, he’s turning away from me and walking towards the exit.

    Okay, looks like we’ve wandered back into rude Edward territory. Did I say something wrong?

    Outside of the school, I see him again. He’s with his siblings. They’re on the other side of the parking lot. They’re all staring at me. I stare right back. I so hard, in fact, that I don’t notice an out of control van coming right for me until it’s honking its horn and it’s too late.

    Or, it should’ve been. Edward’s suddenly next to me. I can swear on my life he pushed that van back with his hand.

    I ask him the first thing that comes to mind, “Are you okay?”

    He’s incredulous, “Of course I’m alright, are you--?” He’s been looking at the van this whole time. When he turns to me, he flinches back because we are so close.

    “How did you do that?” Finally, I ask a smart question.

    He doesn’t answer, pulls away from me, and leaves just as the swarm of people starts to gather. I can still feel his hand on the small of my back.

    Let me tell you something. Never have I ever liked hospitals. All they remind me of is my mother and pain. I want to get out of here as soon as humanly possible.

    I’m sitting in an examination room when an important looking doctor comes through the door. The second he lays eyes on me, he looks confused and concerned. It makes me uneasy. When he comes closer, I read his name tag. “Carlisle--Mr--Dr. Cullen.” I inwardly cringe at how many corrections I make.

    He smiles. He seems to find my slip-ups endearing (I only find them embarrassing). “It’s nice to meet you too, Mx. L/n, though I wish it was under better circumstances. Edward goes on and on about you at home.”

    “All good things, I hope.” Edward talks about me to his family? “Does my dad know I’m here?” I ask while Dr. Cullen is examining my eyes.

    He finishes that, then checks my chart. “No, it doesn’t appear he’s been called yet. My apologies. We’re quite busy today. I could call him right now, if you’d like--”

    “No, that’s okay. I don’t want to worry him. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with me, right?”

    He studies me for a moment. “Well, you might experience some post-traumatic stress or disorientation, but your vitals look good. No signs of any head trauma.”

    “Good. So, I don’t see any reason to call my dad,” I shrug. “I’ll catch the bus, or something, and won’t drive home, okay?”

    He still seems hesitant.

    “Look, I’m just embarrassed. I had plenty of time to see the van coming, but I didn’t react,” I explain. I skip past the ‘I have no idea how’ part, and go right to “Your son probably saved my life. I just don’t want my dad making a big deal out of nothing.”

    Surprisingly, it’s bringing up his son that gets Dr. Cullen to leave me alone.

    On my way out, I see Dr. Cullen again. He’s talking with Edward and one of the other siblings, Rosalie, in a hallway. They catch me eavesdropping. 

    I ask, “Edward? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

    Rosalie and Dr. Cullen disperse, and Edward makes his way over to me. “What?”

    “What?” I repeat, expectantly. I decide to take the calm route. “How did you do that?”

    “Do what?”

    I don’t like Edward playing dumb. “Move across the parking lot so fast,” I clarify.

    Now, he’s obviously feigning light-heartedness. “What are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.”

    “No, you weren’t.” My words hold no malice. “I know that because I was having a staring contest with you and your family. I blinked, and suddenly you were holding me.”

    He looks away from me, trying to come up with something else. “Listen, you hit your head. You’re confused.”

    “Don’t pull that with me.” I’m not having it. “I saw you stop the van, too. You pushed it away.”

    “Well, nobody’s going to believe you, so...” He tries to play it off here, like this conversation doesn’t mean anything to him, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s scared. Scared I’m going to tell everyone I know about this secret he has.

    I’ve been leaving against the wall this whole time, but I straighten myself when I see how serious this is for him. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” I say, looking straight into his eyes. “I just want to know.”

    That’s when I see it. He starts to scowl. “Can’t you just thank me, and get over it?” He’s being rude to me again. But I see that now, and every other time he’s been like this, he only acts this way because he’s scared to let anyone get close. He’s scared to let me get close.

    “I’ll thank you, but I’m not getting over it.” My tone is teasing, but there’s so much truth behind it.

    Edward storms off, and I watch him go.

    I get a couple days off due to the hospital visit, so the next time I see Edward we’re going on this biology field trip.

    I’m about to go up to him, but this random kid comes out of no where and. It scares the hell out of me. Edward’s scowling at the boy, and I soon find out why because the boy asks me to Prom. Edward isn’t scowling because of that, no. I don’t know how Edward notices it before I do, but the kid’s asking me out on a dare. He and his friends probably thought it’d be funny for him to ask the loner to Prom. A couple of boys by the bus start laughing as soon as this kid gets out the question, and even he looks like he’s holding back a smile.

    Edward looks like he’s about to kill every cruel participant of this equation, but I speak up before Edward gets the chance.

    “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to make it.” No, I’m not done. “Also, if I went to Prom with you, I’m afraid I’d be smelling like wet dog for the rest of the year.” I leave him there to find a seat on the bus.

    Because no one else would sit with me anyway, and Edward got on the other bus with Alice and Jasper, I end up sitting alone. I try not to mind.

    “I’m sorry that kid was such a jackass,” Edward suddenly apologizes at a greenhouse, the destination of the field trip.

    Deciding not to bring up him avoiding me by getting on a different bus, I brush off, “It’s fine. I wasn’t planning on going to Prom, anyway.”

    His gaze grows inquisitive, but I ask a question before he can.

    “You going to tell me how you stopped that van yet?”

    “Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush. It’s very common. You can Google it.”

    I stop and peer at him. “That was the most rehearsed statement I’ve ever heard.”

    Edward rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

    I scoff and try to walk away from him.

    Outside of the greenhouse, he’s next to me again. “Look, I’m...I’m sorry that I’m being rude all the time, I just think it is the best way...Y/n, we-we shouldn’t be friends.”

    “You’re the one who keeps walking up to me!” I yell, “Oh my god, just say you regret saving me, and leave it!”

    For what I think is the first time, something I say causes him to freeze completely. “You think I regret saving you?”

    “You make it obvious enough that it’s apparently caused you so much trouble.”

    He clenches his jaw. “You don’t know anything.”

    Cutting through the tension, Alice suddenly appears between us. “Hi! Um, are you going to be riding with us?”

    Edward backs away from me and bangs on the bus door to get the driver to open it up. “No, our bus is full.”

    He approaches me again at lunch the next day.

    I try to keep my head down and ignore him, and I curse myself when I drop an apple.

    He kicks it up with his foot and catches it. “Hey, Y/n.”

    “Alright, that was really fucking cool,” I admit, trying to hide a smile. “But that doesn’t mean you and I are buddy-buddy now. I’m still mad at you. And anyway, what are you even doing, talking to me? I thought you didn’t want to be friends.”

    Edward sighs, “I only said it’d be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be. If you were smart, you’d stay away from me.”

    “Okay, two things.” I put down my lunch tray, and turn to him. “Like I said yesterday: you’re the one that keeps coming up to me. I’m not complaining. I want to be friends with you, too. But then we come to the second thing: Stop saying belittling comments like that to me. ‘If you were smart?’ ‘You don’t know anything?’ Stop saying things like that to me.”

    He reels back. “I’m...sorry.”

    “It’s okay. I know why you do it.” I go on to explain how I’ve picked up that he’s only rude to me because he wants to push me away. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask once I’m done.

    He thinks for a moment, then responds, “You can read me so much easier than I can read you. You know that?”

    “No, but it’s nice to know,” I smile.

    The rest of the day passes just fine, the only real problem happens after school. I miss the bus, and I’m walking home when the same kid who jokingly asked me out to Prom approaches me. His buddies are with him.

    I’m alone, so the looks in their eyes scare me.

    “Wet dog, huh?” the main kid sniggers. “You don’t wanna get to close to me ‘cause you don’t wanna smell like wet dog?”

    “Listen,” I take a few steps back, “I only said that because you and your asshole friends thought it’d be funny to--”

    “Oh, so you think we’re assholes?” another one of the guys growls.

    One of them reaches out, but I catch his arm and knee his groin. “Don’t touch me!” I scream. I don’t think I’m going to get out of this.

    Suddenly, a car comes screeching in out of no where. Edward hops out of the driver’s seat. “Get in the car,” he orders, and I am just so relieved to see him.

    Once inside, I’m a witness to the still unfolding scene. Edward must be having words with my attackers because they all back away in fear.

    “What did you say to them?” I ask as soon as he gets in the car, but he’s too angry to respond.

    A minute or so of extremely reckless driving later, Edward has us back on a street. He gets out, “I should go back there, and rip those guys’ heads off.”

    “No, you shouldn’t.” I have no choice but to reason.

    He’s shaking with rage. “You don’t know the vile and repulsive things they were thinking.”

    “What? And you do?”

    He pulls back. “It’s not hard to guess.” After a moment of lapse, his hand starts tightening around the steering wheel again.

    “I’m fine,” I reassure. “Look at me, I’m okay.”

    Edward glances at me to confirm my words. He breathes a little easier then. “Let’s just talk about something else...”

    I keep the conversation up until Edward pulls up to some restaurant. “What are we doing here?” We had been talking about how bad the school lunch was today.

    He shrugs, “Well, I know you didn’t eat much at lunch today. You must be hungry.”

    “Yeah, I guess...”

    “Come on, my treat.”

    “Wow, the servers are very friendly here,” I comment, making a joke about how our waitress was practically drooling over Edward.

    He seems embarrassed by how she acts around him.

    “Are you sure you don’t want to eat? You must’ve had just as much food today as I’ve had,” I point out, already digging in.

    His lips twitch up. “Trust me, I’m good. I’m on a um, special diet.”

    Another one of his inside jokes. It’s been a while since we’ve run into one of those.

    Things are quiet between us for a bit, and he’s just watching me eat, so I decide to inquire, “So, how often do you talk to your family about me?” I’m only teasing a little bit.

    Edward almost looks alarmed. “How do you know that?”

    “Relax.” I don’t know why he’s so worked up. “Your dad knew who I was when I went to the hospital after the almost-accident.” I see him flinch at the reference to it. “I was just wondering if you’ve told your whole family about me.”

    “Of course I have,” he assures matter-of-factly.

    Sometimes, he can be so cryptic. “Okay,” I break, “You have to start giving me some answers.”

    He looks annoyed. Then, he chuckles, “Yes, no, to get to the other side, uh, 1.77245--”

    “I don’t want to know what the square root of pi is.” I’m starting to get impatient.

    He furrowed his brow. “You know that--?”

    “Eddie!” I push, “That’s not the point of this conversation.”

    Another smirk takes root on his lips. “Eddie?” he repeats.

    I give him a look that makes him apologize for continually changing the subject. Then, I patiently ask, “Did you follow me today?”

    “No,” he lies.

    I get up from my seat.

    “Wait.” Edward catches my arm. “Don’t leave...I feel...very protective of you.”

    I sit back down.

    Edward continues. “I was trying to keep my distance unless you needed my help. Then I heard what those low-lives were thinking--”

    “You can read minds?”

    His mouth shut. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

    It would explain a lot. How he figured out those assholes were tricking me before I did, how he knew I was about to be attacked.

    Edward decidedly goes on, “I can read every mind in this room...apart from yours.” He lists some thoughts he’s hearing from around the room, then his eyes come back to me. “And with you, there’s nothing. It’s very frustrating.”

    “So that’s why you were giving me the death glare my first day of school,” I realize, “You were trying to read my mind.”

    He cringes, “I was staring at you kind of weird, wasn’t I? Sorry.”

    “It’s okay,” I assure and lay a hand on his arm. “I got used to your weird.”

    A real smile prods at his cheeks.

    “So, why do you think you can’t read my mind?” I continue, “You think there’s something wrong with me?”

    Edward starts to laugh. “I tell you I can read minds, and you think there’s something wrong with you.”

    I start to laugh, too. It feels nice to finally be a part of one of his inside jokes. I drop my head, and when I look back up at him, his smile’s faded.

    “What is it?” I coax out of him.

    He is tortured. “I don’t have the strength to stay away from you anymore.”

    “Well, that’s okay, because you weren’t doing a very good job of it in the first place, Eddie.” If he can derail the conversation, then I can break whatever intense mood he’s got going.

    I get him to smile again. He asks, “So, that’s what you’re calling me now? Eddie?”

    “What? I like it.”

    The ride to my place is quiet, but still comfortable. Eddie’s cranked the heat up because I shivered once. I’m almost sweating now.

    “Okay, that’s enough of the heat.” I reach to turn it off, and Edward touches the dial at the same time I do.

    He’s freezing.

    “How are you still cold?” I inquire in a reaction.

    Eddie doesn’t answer me. He keeps his eyes glued on the road. He’s clearly uncomfortable by the question.

    I take a deep breath. No time like the present. “How about you just tell me now? It’s not like I won’t believe you. You’ve told me you can read minds tonight.”

    He’s anxious. His eyes dash from the road, to me, and back to the road. “What are you talking about?”

    “Eddie, I’ve known something was up since the almost-accident.”

    His head snaps to me. “Would you stop referring to it so passively? You could’ve died!”

    “But I didn’t because you were there,” I softly remembered, “You ran across that parking lot within a second and stopped that van with your hand. Your eyes change color. You’re still freezing, even though the heat’s been going since we got in the car. Do you want me to go on?”

    Edward tries to say something, but he stops himself.

    “Okay.” I take it as an invitation. “You don’t eat or drink, you don’t go out in sunlight, you drive like a lunatic, like you know you won’t get hurt--”

    “I get it!” Edward snaps. His eyes are on me now, not the road.

    I get the feeling that we have no chance of crashing.

    “Say it, then,” he angrily urged, “If you’re so sure, say it!”

    I didn’t back down from his glare. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

    I could practically see the shiver run down his spine. It was all out in the open now. There was no going back.

    Edward asks me, “Are you afraid?”

    “No, I’m not,” I answer matter-of-factly.

    He scowls, and pulls over. We’re at my house. “Then ask me the most basic question. What do we eat?”

    “I know you’re not gonna hurt me, Eddie,” I shrug off.

    “You think that because you believe the lie,” Eddie laments, “It’s camouflage. I’m the world’s most dangerous predator. Everything about me invites you in: my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I would need any of that.” He opens the car door, and takes off. I see him briefly appear at the end of the street, then he’s back at my side, all within a second. “As if you could outrun me. As if you could fight me off.” He runs away again, this time into the forest. It’s dark, but in the moonlight, I can see an entire tree be ripped out of the ground and thrown farther into the woods. “I’m designed to kill,” he tells me a moment later when he’s in the driver’s seat again.

    I stay silent.

    He whispers, “I’ve killed people before.”

    I see what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to scare me away from him. I still don’t respond.

    He ups the ante, “I wanted to kill you. I’ve never wanted a human’s blood so much in my life.” I don’t know if he’s consciously doing it or not, but he’s leaning closer to me. His hand is almost on my cheek.

    “Don’t run away from me,” I quietly urge, as he flinches back when I reach for his other hand. I interlace our fingers, but it costs me his hand on the side of my face. I softly repeat, “I know you’re not gonna hurt me, Eddie.”

    Finally, he stops trying to scare me. “My family, we’re different from others of our kind. We’ve learned to control our thirst. But...your scent...it’s like a drug to me. Y/n, you’re like my own personal brand of heroine...I still don’t know if I can control myself...”

    I brought my gaze down to our connected hands. This is the most intimate we’ve ever been.

    He murmurs, “I wish I could read your mind...What are you thinking? Are you afraid?”

    “Eddie, the only thing I’m scared of is you leaving me,” I admit. “Just don’t do that. We can figure everything else out.”

    He doesn’t promise me he won’t go, but he does express, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” Edward takes his free hand, and wraps it around our connected ones. His gaze lingers there for a moment before moving up to meet my eyes. “And so, the lion falls in love with the lamb.”

    At least for now, I think we’re okay. I smile at his statement. “What a stupid lamb.”

    Edward smiles, too. “What a sick, masochistic lion.”

    Soon after, he convinces me to get out of the car, to leave him for the night.

    He’s back the next morning to drive me to school.

    When we pull up to the building, he opens my door for me. We’re laughing about some joke we had going in the car. My smile fades and I shrink into his side when I notice everyone’s eyes on us.

    “This is what it’s like to be you, huh?” I haven’t gotten this treatment since my first day of school. “Everyone’s staring.”

    Edward jokes, “Not that guy. No, he just looked. I’m breaking all the rules, anyway.” That last part seemed to be aimed to his brothers and sisters, whose car we just passed.

    I’m guessing they don’t want him attracting too much attention, since they’re all vampires. Then again, they already have the attention of the whole town, looking as beautiful as they do.

    Eddie doesn’t seem to mind their scowls. He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Since I’m going to hell.” He says that part a little louder. His siblings can obviously hear.

    Throughout the day, we hear whispers that there’s been another animal killing in town. Edward quietly informs me that it’s not an animal. There’s another vampire in town. Eddie’s scared that I might be in danger, but I remind him that I’m safest by his side, where he can protect me.

    He doesn’t like talking about vampire stuff during class, so he takes me to a clearing in the woods after school where we can be alone.

    “So, does a person need to be dying in order to become a vampire?”

    We’re laying next to each other in the grass as I ask any question that comes to mind.

    He’s laying on his side, always watching me. “No, that’s just Carlisle. He’d never do this to someone who had another choice.”

    “How long have you been like this?” Just how old is my vampire boyfriend?

    “Since 1918. That’s when Carlisle found me dying of the Spanish Influenza.”

    “What was it like?”

    “The venom was excruciating, but what Carlisle did was much harder. Not many of us have the restraint to do that.”

    “How bad it it?”

    He knows to what I’m referring. “When we taste human blood, a sort of frenzy begins. It’s almost impossible to stop.”

    I can tell his mind is on his nightmare of possibly doing that to me one day, so I bring the discussion back to his father. “But Carlisle was able to stop.”

    “Yes. First with me, then with Esme.”

    “So, is Carlisle the reason you don’t kill people?”

    Eddie shakes his head. “No. Well, he’s not the only reason...I don’t...want to be a monster.”

    “Well, you’re not, so that’s nice.” I remind him, only half-joking.

    A smile crosses his face, but he glances down. He doesn’t reply to my statement. “My family, we think of ourselves as vegetarians because we only survive on the blood of animals. But it’s like a human only living on tofu, you know? It keeps you strong, but you’re never fully satisfied.” Edward starts laughing. “It wouldn’t be like drinking your blood, for instance.”

    Seeing his smile lights up my face too. “It’s good to know I wouldn’t taste like tofu.” I think for a second, and another question pops into my head. “Can the rest of your family read minds like you can?”

    He smiles, and lays back down on his back. “No, that’s just me. But Alice can see the future.”

    A grin breaks out across my lips. I realize, “Did she see me coming?” I turn over to my side and tuck my arm under my head.

    Eddie shakes his head. “No, she can’t see your future, just like I can’t read your mind. You’re an enigma to all of us. She can get some snippets of you from...my future, though. But, you have to remember: Alice’s visions are highly subjective. The future can always change.”

    I sigh. His mood has soured again. I wish something would come along to lighten him up.

    Fortunately, my wish comes true. It comes true so much more literally than I thought it would. The sun peaks though the clouds, and I see Edward for the first time in the sunlight. He’s sparkling.

    I immediately start laughing. “Hooolyyy shiiit. Whaaat???”

    His eyes were scared at first. Like he actually thought I’d be intimidated by his reflective skin. But when he sees that I’m laughing, a smile forms on his lips, too. “Uh, there’s something else I haven’t told you about being a vampire.”

    “Are you kidding me? You didn’t tell me that you fucking sparkle.” I can’t calm down. I’m still laughing. “Oh my god, this is why you and your siblings don’t come to school on sunny days! Eddie, I’m sorry, but this is so fucking funny.” I’m sitting criss-cross now.

    He joins me. “I...I never thought someone would react to my skin like this.”

    “Well, that baffles me. But, here I am. And I’m having a great time.” I walk up to him, take one of his hands in mine, and examine it closer. “Jesus, I love this.”

    Eddie smiles even wider, and shakes his head. “You know what? I’m going to take you to meet my family tomorrow.”

    “But what if they don’t like me?” I pull my gaze away from his hand to meet his eyes.

    “So, you’re worried, not because you’ll be in a house full of vampires, but because you’re afraid they won’t approve of you?” He apparently finds this very amusing.

    “Shut up.” I roll my eyes.

    Eddie stands and pulls me up using the hand that I’m holding. He’s still smiling. “Come on. I should take you home.”

    The thought of being away from him and being in that house again makes my smile falter.

    Eddie tells me he’ll pick me up tomorrow.

    When I enter the Cullen home the next day, I immediately notice that their living space is open and beautiful. I give Eddie my compliments, and he just makes comments about how I must’ve expected a crypt or something. I give him a look, and he just keeps chuckling.

    As we’re heading up the stairs, he tells me, “This is the one place where we don’t have to hide.”

    That’s really sweet. I take his hand, and we continue up the stairs.

    Edward suddenly gets flustered. “I told them not to do this...”

    We get to the kitchen, and some of his family are making dinner.

    A woman comes up to me. “Y/n, we’re making Italiano for you.”

    I hear what she’s saying, but my eyes drift to Carlisle. It’s that same look he gave me when he first saw me in the hospital.

    Edward introduces me to the woman. “Y/n, this is Esme. My mother, for all intensive purposes.”

    “Y/n, could I see you in my study for a moment?” Carlisle inquires in the friendliest voice I’ve ever heard.

    He and Edward share a look, and I follow the eldest vampire into the other room.

    We’re only gone for about five minutes, and when Carlisle and I return to the kitchen, he brings the conversation back to the meal. “You’re giving us a reason to use the kitchen for the first time.”

    Edward looks like he’s been scolding his family for making dinner. He and Carlisle share another look. Nothing happens. I breathe.

    Esme brings my attention back to her with her calming voice. “I hope you’re hungry.”

    Before I can say anything, Edward gives away, “They already ate.”

    Rosalie, Edward’s sister, breaks a glass bowl she was holding. “Perfect.”

    Overdramatic, much? “Well, yeah.” I keep my feelings to myself. “I figured, since you guys don’t eat...”

    Esme smiles, “Of course. That’s very considerate of you.” She turns to her adoptive daughter to emphasize her point.

    Edward suggests, “Just ignore Rosalie, I do.” He puts a hand on the small of my back.

    Rosalie holds her ground. “Yeah, let’s just keep pretending that this isn’t dangerous for all of us.”

    I step forward to face Edward’s sister head-on. “Rosalie, you gotta understand, I would never, ever tell anybody anything.”

    As soon as I left his grasp, Edward was by my side again.

    Carlisle says, referring to Rosalie, “She knows you’re on our side.”

    Emmett clears up, “Yeah well, the problem is, you two have gone public now--”

    Edward tenses a little.

    Esme quickly scolds Emmett.

    Rosalie continues, “No, they should know. The entire family will be implicated if this ends badly.”

    “Well, I’ll try my best to make sure that it won’t,” I assure.

    The blonde vampire seems thrown off by my resoluteness.

    Just then, Alice and Jasper come in...from a tree branch outside a window.

    “I’m Alice. It’s so nice to meet you!” She hugs me, but quickly jumps back. “Oh. You do smell good.”

    “Alice...”

    I find it cute how embarrassed Edward is getting around his family.

    Alice smiles, “It’s okay. I can’t see their future exactly, but I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

    The rest of the family seems to be set in a state of unease at the reference to Alice’s power, but I just beam back at her. I think we’re going to be great friends, too.

    Jasper and I make eye contact.

    Carlisle speaks up, “Sorry, Jaspers our newest vegetarian. It’s a little difficult for him.”

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jasper struggles to relate.

    Alice reassures her significant other, “It’s okay, Jasper. You won’t hurt them.”

    Edward cannot believe our morbid reality. “Alright, I’m going to take you on a tour of the rest of the house. Everyone just stay here.”

    I just laugh when he tries to lead me away. “Eddie, come on.”

   Most of his family are amused at my nickname for him. Rosalie remains pissed off.

    “It’s nice meeting you too, Jasper,” I return Jasper’s sentiment. “It’s nice meeting all of you.”

    Esme smiles, “It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Y/n. Especially after Edward has talked about you so much.”

    Eddie grits, “Esme...”

    “He has?” I ignore him.

    Emmett cuts in, “Yeah. Dude never shuts up about you.”

    I’m still giggling as Edward drags me up towards the second floor.

    He apologizes, “I’m sorry about them.”

    “They’re fine, Eddie.” I’m still smiling. “Sure, Rosalie’s not my biggest fan, and Jasper literally wants to kill me, but I love your family.”

    Edward assures, “You don’t have to say that just because they can still hear us.”

    I honestly forgot they could. “I promise you, I’m not...Graduation caps.” I notice what much be a hundred of them on one of the walls.

    He looks at the display. “It’s a, uh, private joke. We matriculate a lot.”

    I smile, and look to him. “I like being in on your inside jokes.”

    He takes me to a room at the end of a hallway. “This is...my room.”

    A full grin breaks out on my face as I wander inside. “It’s beautiful, Eddie.” I notice, “No bed...because you don’t sleep, do you?”

    He shakes his head.

    I lay down on a couch he has. “Comfy,” I tease.

    I sit up. “Jesus, you have so many books! And look at all this music...” I wander to his shelves of CDs, and click play on his radio. A classical song plays. I smile as the melody drifts into the room.

    Edward walks over to me. He looks like he’s preparing himself, then he takes my hand and pulls me to him by the waist. He’s clearly scared, having me this close to him.

    “Breathe,” I quietly urge to comfort him, and jokingly add, “through the mouth,” so he won’t have to smell me as much. Slowly, I lay my head on his shoulder.

    He tenses, but eventually calms down.

    We sway for a moment or two, then I lift my head to smirk, “You know, I’ve never been much of a dancer.”

    Eddie smirks too, and teases, “I could always make you.”

    “I’m still not afraid of you,” I remind.

    His smile widens. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

    Suddenly, I’m being thrown over his shoulder, and he jumps out these open doors he has in his room. We land on the trunk of a tree.

    “Jesus Christ! Eddie! Not fair!”

    He laughs.

    “Warn me the next time you do something like that!”

    He shrugs, “Okay. Here’s your warning.” Eddie takes off at an alarming speed and climbs up the tree. It’s like this is taking no effort at all for him. He stops for a second at the top of the tree. “Do you trust me?”

    God, I hope I don’t regret this. “You know I do.”

    “Hang on.”

    Edward jumps, and we’re flying through the trees. Climbing, jumping from one tree to the next--I can hear my laughter over the wind whipping in my ears.

    He takes me to the top of what is probably the tallest tree in the forest and we stay there and talk for what must be hours. We don’t get back to the Cullen house until dark.

    The rest of the evening is lovely. Rosalie is as cold as ever, and Jasper is hard to read, but I get along with the rest of the family just fine. Esme and Carlisle seem to adore me, thank God, and Emmett is very warm and welcoming. Alice is the most enthusiastic. She gives me her phone number, and calls me a few hours after I’m back at my house and my father has fallen asleep.

    “Yes, I did have a lot of fun tonight.” I answer her eager question, endeared. “I can’t wait to see you again, t--OH my god! Sorry Alice, your brother just broke into my home.”

    She giggles, “I knew that was going to happen. I just wanted to get as much time with you as I could. I’ll let you go. Goodnight!”

    “Goodnight, Alice.” I smile as I hang up the phone.

    “Sorry about her,” Edward apologized, “Alice can be overbearing.”

    “I think she’s sweet.” I move closer to Edward, and sit cross-legged. “How did you get in here?”

    He’s smiling. “Through the window.”

    “Do you do that often?” I ask expectantly, a smirk playing at my lips.

    Edward replies, “Just the past couple months.”

    Probably ever since he saved me from that van. “I thought I saw you in here! Jesus, I thought I was dreaming.”

    He smirks, “You dream about me?”

    “Very funny.”

    “What? You’re the one who said it.”

    I roll my eyes.

    Edward divulges, “I like watching you sleep. It fascinates me...That sounded creepy, didn’t it?”

    “A little bit,” I agree. “Maybe try wording it different.”

    He quirks his eyebrows. “How do I word that different?”

    We laugh.

    “I don’t know!...Just, let me know next time you do it, okay?”

    He smiles, “As you wish.” Edward grows serious then. “I came here to try something.”

    Sensing his unease, I frown. “What is it?”

    “...Stay very still for me, okay?”

    Understanding washing over me, I nod.

    Then, I see Edward move the slowest I’ve ever seen him move. He inches closer. Our noses meet, and he stops, debating with himself again.

    I want to say something, reassure him that this is okay. He can do this. I stop myself. I don’t want to scare him away.

    It takes him so, so long, but he reaches my lips, and I breathe for the first time in my life. He told me not to move, I know, but I lean forward on instinct. I need to be as close as I am to this boy.

    Eddie pulls back, and I immediately regret moving. I peek, expecting to see the ever-present fear in his eyes, but his eyes are closed. He’s smiling. His lips are shaking, but he’s smiling because he’s so proud of himself, and my heart swells. He kisses me again, and I nearly cry. He’s really doing this. He’s not pulling away from me. Our foreheads, noses, our faces are together, and I could not be more filled with bliss. We’ve never been this close. I wish to always be this close to him. This is perfect. In this moment, we are perfect.

    I know that I love him. I’ve known for a while, but right now, I can finally touch that feeling.

    I kiss him again. And again. One more time. My hands are in his hair. My heart isn’t even beating anymore. It’s going too fast for that. Everything is going fast now. I sit on his lap. I kiss him again. Then I kiss him deeper yet.

    That pushes him past control. He takes my hips and moves so he’s on top of me. Edward kisses me with an overwhelming passion that is so great I feel I am drowning in it.

    At some point, I think I groan out in pain. It’s not Eddie’s fault, but he accidentally presses on some bruises I have and his reaction is so fast--

    “STOP!”

    I sit up in my empty bed. I thought Edward would leave, but he’s still in my room. He’s got himself pressed against the farthest wall from me, but Edward’s still here with me. That has to count for something.

    I wonder briefly if the sound of Edward hitting the wall woke my dad up. “Sorry,” I tell Edward.

    He’s holding his breath. “I’m stronger than I thought.”

    Yes, you’re so much stronger than you know. “I wish I could say the same for myself.”

    He shuts his eyes, and turns his head away from me.

    I can’t stand even that. “Look at me.”

    Eddie’s eyes lock eyes with mine. “I can never lose control with you.”

    “I know...Come here.” Please, don’t leave.

    Slowly, he gets closer to me again. When he sits on the edge of my bed, I move to sit all the way onto my pillows to make him more comfortable.

    My bones ache a little the farther away I get from him, but I ask, “Is this more comfortable for you?”

    He doesn’t respond, but he starts breathing again.

    Edward and I talk for the rest of the night, and I wake up the next morning laying on his chest. I’m surprised he let me this close again.

    As my eyes open, he’s looking out my window. He’s got one arm tucked behind his head, and the other one is curled under me, holding me close. Eddie informs me, “There’s going to be a storm today.”

    “Good to know.”

    A smile forms on his lips and and he inquires, “Do you want to play baseball with my family and I?”

    “I’m sorry, what?” I sit up to get a better look at the smirk playing at his lips.

    He explains, “Well, we like to play, and we can only play during thunderstorms. You’ll find out why if you come.”

    “So, I guess I’m going,” I giggle.

    He smiles like he wasn’t just a world full of cryptic. “Great.” Eddie sits up, too. We’re sitting criss-cross, facing each other. He asks me a more serious question. A very serious question. “Can I meet your dad?”

    “Well...it’s already eight-thirty,” I notify after glancing at my clock. “I think he left for work already. Didn’t you hear his truck start up?”

    He contraries, “Actually, I heard him get out of bed, get ready, then leave and start his truck. That was about an hour ago. But I didn’t mean I meet him right now. Later today, maybe?”

    “My...father...has always been weird about me dating,” I explain. “Can we...hold off on that...for a bit?”

    Eddie blinks. “Okay...”

    His family’s in a big clearing in the woods outside of town. Everybody is dressed completely for baseball. Wow, they must really like the sport.

    What follows is the weirdest ten minutes of my fucking life so far. They ask me to be umpire. Here are some highlights: Emmett warming up like he’s fighting literal air, Rosalie giving me murder eyes when I call that she’s out, Eddie and Emmett crashing into each other mid-air while they’re both going after the ball, and, no joke, Rosalie calling Emmett her ‘monkey man’ after Emmett climbs a tree to get the ball.

    It’s nice to see Edward so at ease here. The whole family is free to be themselves. Even Jasper has loosened up a bit.

    But then, Alice freezes. “Stop!” she warns.

    I’m suddenly reminded of last night when Edward flew across my room and away from me.

    The Cullens seem to hear someone approaching, and they all rush toward me.

    Alice informs, “They were leaving, then they heard us.”

    It occurs to me that the strangers must be the vampires responsible for the deaths in town. That must also be why the Cullens are gathering in front of me: to hide my human scent.

    The only thing that’s scaring me is the fear in Edward’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m so sorry,” he laments.

    “It’s okay. Hey.” I’m holding his hand, and I grasp his upper arm in my free hand because I know me touching his cheek would be too much for him. “Let’s just focus on getting out of this, okay?”

    He bits his lip as he nods. “Just, stay behind me.”

    Three vampires walk out from the woods. Edward’s grip on my hand tightens the closer they get. I can feel that he’s preparing take me and run if things go sour.

    Carlisle takes the lead for us. The leader of the other group, Laurent, is polite. This would be a friendly conversation between two groups if it wasn’t for everyone else on both sides giving their opposites the death stare.

    Me? I’m not ashamed to say I’m too scared to move. I just hold onto Edward and hope that this will be over soon.

    Laurent somehow convinces Carlisle to let him and his friends play baseball with the Cullens. Edward gets the chance to start leading me away, but then bad luck strikes. Wind blows my scent in the new vampires’ direction.

    Then, Esme’s at my side. Edward’s at the front of the Cullens, being held back by Carlisle. Laurent reels his own people back. He doesn’t want violence.

    One of Laurent’s people, James, is the opposite. He’s out for my blood. I can’t read minds, but I can tell that much. I can also guess that James’ girlfriend, Victoria, isn’t opposed to draining me as well.

    As soon as they are gone, Edward speeds me to the car he brought me in. Now he’s in the driver’s seat, driving us away from the almost-battlefield.

    “Fuck, I am an imbecile!” Edward curses himself out. “James is a tracker. The hunt is his obsession. I read his mind. My reaction on the field set him off. I just made this his most exciting game. He’s never going to stop.”

    I need him to calm down. “Okay. So what can we do?”

    He answers immediately, “We have to kill him. Rip him apart, and burn the pieces.”

    I’m taken out of the moment by how violent his words were. I know that vampires are nearly indestructible. I guess I should have also put together that the way to kill them would be extremely brutal.

    “I’m getting you away from Forks.”

    My head snaps up. No. No, no, no, no, no.

    Edward keeps planning, “We’ll get a ferry to Vancouver.”

    “No.” I finally get words out of my mouth. “I-I can’t. I have to go home.”

    He disagrees too fast. “You can’t go home. ‘Cause he’s gonna trace your scent there, it’s the first place he’s going to look.”

    “I don’t care. I have to go back home.” I know it’s irrational. I know my best bet is to go with Edward and not look back. But I can’t leave town.

    He doesn’t understand. “If it’s your dad you’re worried about, just let me get you out of here first. Then, I’ll come back and tell him--”

    “Edward, take me home now!” I can’t remember ever raising my voice at him.

    His eyes snap to meet my own. He starts searching them.

    I know what he’s looking for. I don’t let him find it. “Drop me off at home. Stay in the car. I’ll...I’ll come up with something about leaving. Then, we can go, alright?” I don’t break our gaze.

    Edward doesn’t either. “...I’ll give you ten minutes.”

    “That’s all I need.”

    When the car is two houses away from mine, Edward stops it completely. I prefer the car here, but then I noticed why Edward breaked. He senses one of the hunter vampires nearby.

    Edward tells me, “I’m going to run into the woods. Count to five, then get out of the car and run to your house. Don’t stop no matter what you hear.”

    “But Ed--”

    “Please.”

    He agreed to come to my house despite the danger, now I should agree to do this. Swallowing my fears, I nod.

    Edward leaves the car. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I follow his instructions.

    Once inside, I take on a whole different posture. I am now more ‘presentable’ for my father. I am without Edward. I may not be facing a human-hunting vampire, but I am facing a monster all my own.

    “Who’s your boyfriend?” he asks lowly.

    My blood runs cold. “...Who are you talking about?”

    “Don’t act like I’m stupid,” he almost cuts me off. “A loud sound woke me up last night. I could hear you talking him. Who is he, and how long have you been seeing him?”

    All I can do is shudder. “A couple of weeks...I met him at school--”

    “THIS IS WHY!” He stands up straight out of his seat, and I flinch so hard I nearly fall to my knees. “THIS IS WHY I DON’T LET YOU DATE! BECAUSE YOU’RE SO MUCH OF A WHORE THAT YOU’LL LET ANY DOG OFF THE STREET INTO YOUR ROOM!

    “You probably already gave it to him, didn’t you? But I’m surprised he’d even want you, given how used up I’m sure you are--”

    “Stop it--”

    “DO NOT TALK BACK TO YOUR FATHER! You little--” He hits me.

    He’s backed me almost into a corner at this point, and I fall in front of the fireplace. There’s a red mark on my check now. It’s in the shape of his hand. I move to get up. I get kicked in the stomach.

    “Stay down, you useless piece of shit.” He spits on my arm. “I had one rule. Keep to yourself, and don’t let anyone know what trash you really are. You couldn’t even do that.” He picks up a fire poker.

    A realization washes over me. There’s no way around it. He’s going to try to kill me.

    He’s always hit me, for as long as I can remember. And now he’s going to end it.

    I beg. “Please! Please, don’t.”

    “Will you shut up?” He raises the poker over his head. “For once?!” He brings it down.

    I kick his knee in.

    Out of shock at the sudden movement and the blinding pain, my father dropped his weapon and clutched his leg as he fell to the ground.

    I stand on the foot that kicked his knee in, and pick up the fire poker myself.

    “You better do this right if you’re gonna do it,” he snarls. “I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t. You understand? If you’re off by a goddamn centimeter, I’ll take that thing and run it though your skull, you selfish, little brat.”

    Just for a second, things go quiet. I hear two full breaths pass my lips as I look down on him. Then, I hear his struggle as he reaches for my pant leg. Before I can completely lose my balance, I swing. The blood makes a splattering sound. I open my eyes. I see his disfigured face staring up at me. He’s still alive. He moves to grab me again. I hit him again. I’m scared he might still try to hurt me, so I hit him again, and again, and again. Somehow, he’s still twitching when I collapse next to him.

    My body turns to the door as Edward enters. I see it all on his face.

    Eddie comes in determined. I think he bought us some time with the fight he had with James outside. He wants to get me out of my house and out of town as soon as possible. But then he hears my dad’s memories.

    Up until this point, I’ve been using the radius of Edward’s powers to my advantage. It seemed my father was never close enough for Edward to read his thoughts. That isn’t true now.

    I know Edward can see it all. Me beating the shit out of my father, my father almost beating the shit out of me first, and my father beating me all my life because my mother died in childbirth.

    It’s the last one that does Edward in, I can tell. In his eyes, I can see his heart break when he looks to me.

    My father finally dies from his injuries. I can hear my father stop breathing, but I don’t look away from Eddie.

    “Come on, we gotta go.” Edward holds his hand out for me to take.

    I take it.

    He rushes me to the car. He starts driving. Silence.

    A whole minute passes. Edward finally speaks. “All this time...you’ve been using the fact that I can’t read your mind against me.”

    Yes, I know. That’s not the most sympathetic statement to say after you find out someone is being abused, but he’s so used to knowing everything that’s going on. To go from that to finding out that someone you care about has been staying quiet about getting hurt, it must be a lot to take in.

    “I’m sorry.” I’m used to being the first to apologize. I’m usually the only one to apologize.

    Edward shakes his head. “No,” he nearly growled, “No. You shouldn’t apologize. You-you don’t need to apologize. Just...I could’ve helped you, Y/n. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

    Suddenly, a loud bang sound at the roof of the car.

    I flinch. My first thought is that it’s James. The rising tension between Edward and me didn’t help.

    “It’s okay.” Edward takes my hand in his. I can’t tell if it’s a conscious effort or not. I can tell that he’s only annoyed by whoever is on top of the Jeep. Eddie soothes, “It’s just Emmett. Alice is in the car behind us.”

    He pulls us up to the Cullen estate, and we go inside. Laurent scares the hell out of me when I see him.

    Edward and I originally think otherwise, but it turns out that Laurent is here to help. He tells us what he had just told Carlisle: James is the best hunter that Laurent has seen in his 300 years, we should also not underestimate Victoria, and Laurent wants no part in this fight.

    Laurent leaves, and I thank god that there is one less vampire to hide from. I am quickly removed from my thoughts, however, because Edward’s just lunged at Carlisle.

    “Edward!” I yell out in alarm. “What are you doing?!”

    Rosalie and Esme pull them apart before Edward can do any damage. I’m sure Edward would never truly hurt his father, but I don’t know why he is suddenly so angry.

    “You knew!” Edward snarls out, fighting against Rosalie’s gasp. “You knew, and you didn’t do anything to save them!”

    Oh.

    I think back to when Edward first brought me to this house, the same day he took me flying thought the woods.

    “Y/n, could I see you in my study for a moment?” The question made me shudder.

    “He can’t know, right?” I silently thought to myself as I followed him into the other room.

    Closing the door behind me, I stayed close to it as Carlisle wandered over to his desk. “When you live with six vampires, it can be hard to find privacy. That’s why I had this room built. It is completely sound proof. No one one the other side of that door can hear us speak.”

    I was impressed. “That’s possible?”

    Carlisle nodded, “Trust me, it is. We’re also too far away from Edward at the moment for him to hear my thoughts.”

    “So, why’d you bring me in here?” I decided to be brave.

    He just looked at me, sympathy clear in his eyes. “It’s your father, isn’t it?”

    “How do you know?” I asked, trying not to cry.

    “To put it simply, I can smell the bruises on you, Y/n,” he revealed, “At the hospital, I thought I smelt other patients’ blood, but I realized I was wrong as soon as you walked into my home.”

    My heart broke. If Carlisle knew, that meant every vampire in the house knew. That meant that Edward knew.

    Carlisle went on, “Bruises happen when small veins and capillaries break and red blood cells leak out of those blood vessels. Vampires can smell any difference in blood, Y/n.”

    “Why are you the only one who’s saying anything?” I wondered. Had everyone but me been in on this private joke of helping me keep up my act?

    Carlisle explained, “I believe I am the only one who realizes what your scent truly means. Edward told us when he first met you that your scent was unlike anything he had ever come across. I assume the rest of my children think they are experiencing the same whenever they smell you. But they aren’t. They are smelling what I just described.”

    “Then, what about Edward?” It was a solid question.

    Carlisle got a wistful look in his eye. “The scent of your bruises gets overpowered by the effect the overall scent of your blood has on Edward. I believe I am familiar with what he is experiencing as well. Esme had the same effect on me before I turned her.”

    Thoughts came to mind that what Eddie and I have might be as great as Esme and Carlisle, but they were outnumbered by worries. “So, Eddie’s going to know. If you know, and he can read your mind, then he’s going to know as well.”

    “...Not necessarily.” Carlisle was clearly concerned for me, but he gave me another option. “I’ve known Edward for a century. I am very familiar with his abilities. I know that if I focus enough on other thoughts, and don’t explicitly think about this, he shouldn’t be able to see it. At least, not if he doesn’t know specifically what he’s looking for. It’s how I kept him from getting too suspicious from when you entered the house to when we entered my study. I could keep that up...That’s if you would like me to.”

    “You promise that if you do this, he won’t know?” My voice was shaking, but it held at least a little strength to it.

    Carlisle nodded, “As long as he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, this should work. I promise.”

    “Do it.”

    He was hesitant. “Are you sure? Edward can help you. We can all help--”

    “I’m sure,” I cut him off. I sighed, “Thank you, really. But I...I just can’t. And Eddie...Please, I just don’t want him to know.”

    Carlisle was still unsure, but luckily, he agreed. “As you wish.”

    The whole conversation took about five minutes. Remembering it only took a single moment.

    “Eddie, it wasn’t Carlisle’s fault,” I admit, “I told him not to say anything.”

    He stops fighting against Rosalie, and turns back to me. Understandably, Edward’s confused. “What?”

    Rosalie lets him go.

    Edward approaches me. He takes my hands in his. “But...but he hurt you,” he says, referring to my father.

    “He hurt me my whole life, Eddie,” I sniffle, “I was used to it. I guess, in some sick way, I was trying to protect him when Carlisle found out. But then, when he had that fire poker in his hand, I saw that look in his eye. He was going to kill me. I realized that I...I couldn’t leave you, Eddie. So, I fought back. And...and I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad I killed him. But before, I couldn’t let you know. I just couldn’t. You reacted exactly how I knew you would, and I can’t bare the thought of causing you pain. You’re my safe haven. When we met, and we really started being together, you helped me forget how shit my life really was. You showed me what it was like to truly be cared for by someone.”

    He’s slouched over, and won’t meet my eyes. “Yeah, once I stopped treating you so cruelly.”

    I leaned down to make eye contact with him. “You pushed through all that, and I couldn’t be happier that you did.”

    “Guys, we gotta go,” Emmett announced, in a rush as he entered.

    Jasper and Alice are behind him.

    Edward takes me to the garage with the rest of the Cullens.

    “I’ve had to fight our kind before,” Jasper announces, “We’re not easy to kill.”

    Emmett argues, “But not impossible. We’ll tear them apart, and burn the pieces.”

    Oh. So that’s just the patented way of how to kill vampires, I guess.

    Carlisle speaks his mind. “I don’t relish the thought of killing another creature, even one as sadistic as James.”

    “It helps if you think of all the things he’s done, in James’ case, the things he’ll do if he’s not stopped,” I offer, thinking about my now dead father.

    “Rosalie, Esme.”

    I flinch when Edward lets go of my hand.

    “Could you put these on so the tracker will pick up Y/n’s scent?” He throws a couple of my jackets to his mother and his sister.

    Rosalie catches my jacket, but argues, “Why? What are they to me?”

    Eddie is giving her a look that is just begging her to help.

    “I’m nothing to you,” I suddenly attest. “You and your family have been together for decades, and I just got here. I understand that. But what I feel for Edward? That connection goes deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced, read, or seen. I know I am here to stay. You’re my family now, Rosalie. Please, help me.”

    I can feel Edward getting closer to me in case Rosalie makes any move against me. I know she won’t.

    She locks me in her steely gaze. A few seconds tick by. Wordlessly, she leaves. She took my jacket with her.

    “I’m gonna run Y/n south,” says Edward, “Can you lead the tracker away from here?” He can’t say James’ name.

    Esme disagrees, “Edward, no. James knows you would never leave Y/n. He’ll follow you.”

    Alice offers, “I’ll go with Y/n. Jasper and I will drive them south.” She adds, “I’ll keep them safe, Edward.”

    “Can you keep your thoughts to yourself?” Eddie asks.

    Alice answers like it’s obvious. “Yes.”

    What are they talking about? Was it something Alice saw in her visions?

    Once I’m in the backseat, Edward’s at the window. I take a moment to memorize his face the best I can. “Okay...I’m going to need you to kiss me.”

    He’s understandably taken off guard. “What?”

    “Baby, I know you still don’t trust yourself, but this might be the last time I see you.” Saying it out loud physically hurt. “I’m just so scared--”

    One of my hands is resting on the car door, and he puts his hand on mine. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. There’s seven of us, and there’s two of them. Once everything’s done, I’ll come back to you, and we’ll be together again, okay?”

    I nod. I have to look down because if I keep looking at him, I’ll start crying. Tears spring to my eyes when he puts his free hand on my cheek and brings my lips to meet his.

    The kiss has the opposite effect I was hoping for. I thought it would calm me down being this close to him, but it just makes my heart race as fast as it did the first time Edward kissed me. Only now, instead of the rush of dopamine, I’m reminded that I could likely never experience it again.

    I know Eddie feels the same once he breaks the kiss and I see his eyes.

    We lean our foreheads against each other, and I just take a second to breathe and be with him.

    Eddie separates us, and the fear is even clearer in his eyes. “Y/n, you are my life now,” he relays like it’s the most important message of his immortal life. He dries my tears.

    I do the same for him.

    Jasper pulls the car out of the garage two seconds later.

    I watch as Edward takes off into the woods with Esme, Carlisle, Emmett, and Rosalie.

    “Everything’s going to be fine, Y/n. I promise,” Alice comforts in her usual, light-hearted tone. “I see you all over the place in all of our futures, so that’s gotta count for something, right?”

    Yes, I guess it does. “So you really know that this is going to turn out alright?”

    Alice hesitates. “Well...not exactly...”

    Jasper explains for her. “She sees the course people are on while they’re on it. If they change their minds, the vision changes. Her visions started to change when James decided to start hunting you.”

    Alice puts her hand in Jasper’s. It reminds me of Edward and me.

    She soothes, “But I have every faith in our family. It’s still extremely likely that everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to turn out.”

    “Y/n...I’m sorry about your father,” Jasper says. “I’m sorry for the way he treated you, and I’m sorry for what you had to do.” His words are still coming out as forced, but it’s not as bad as before. It’s good to know he’s getting used to me.

    I catch Alice looking at me sympathetically through the rearview mirror. I’m glad she didn’t have to see what I did to my father in a vision.

    Speaking of visions, she receives one. She tenses up, and squeezes Jasper’s hand.

    Jasper inquires. “What is it? What do you see?”

    She’s silent only a moment longer before--

    “No!”

    Something with the force of a car rams into the side of ours. While our car is spinning from the crash, my car door gets ripped off and thrown into the woods somewhere. I’m only awake long enough to notice that I am being taken. I hit my head in the first impact. I pass out from a concussion a few seconds later.

    I wake up in a room full of mirrors. A ballet studio? I vaguely remember seeing one in town, but I never thought much of it.

    I guess this is where I’m going to die.

    “Hey! You’re awake!” James is standing a few yards away from me. “Sorry, but it would’ve been too easy to kill you while you were sleeping.”

    I’m sitting up straight and leaning against one of the pillars of the studio. Once I notice the danger I’m in, I get to my feet. My head is aching from where I hit it earlier.

    “Aw, little birdie’s scared.” He speeds up close to me and sniffs up the side of my face. “That’s adorable.”

    Fuck it. I know I’m pretty much doomed, but I’m not giving up just yet. I put my hands on the sides of his face, and use my thumbs to try to stab out his eyes. I have no idea how, but it works. It only buys me about two seconds, but it works.

    He yells, and I use his very, very temporary blindness to duck behind him and run.

    I’m barely on my forth step from him when I’m thrown into one of the mirrors. My hands are suddenly bleeding, and my head and hip hurt a lot too, so they’re probably bleeding as well.

    James crouches down in front of me. “I can’t wait for Edward to see what I am going to do to you. It’ll break his little heart.”

    “Leave him out of this!” I seethe. “He has nothing to do with--AAHHH!!!” My vision blurs for a moment when James breaks my leg clean in half with just a flick of his wrist.

    He smiles at my agony. “Oh, but Edward Cullen has everything to do with this! Usually, once my prey is dead, all the fun’s over. But his rage after you’ve gone will give me months of excitement.” He takes my bloody hand in his and inhales. “God, you must be delicious. I don’t know how Edward has held himself back from draining you entirely...” James bares his teeth, and I know he’s about to take a bite.

    I scream.

    Then, James is gone. He’s thrown across the room, and Edward’s in his place.

    Edward’s panicking. “Are you okay?” A lot of adrenaline must be running through him, because he only just notices my open wounds. Edward freezes.

    I want to say anything to calm him down, but there’s no time.

    James takes Edward by the neck and pins him against the mirrors on the opposite wall.

    “You’re alone ‘cause you’re faster than the others,” observed James, “But you’re not stronger.”

    Edward bit back, “I’m strong enough to kill you.” He turns out of James’ grasp and throws him across the room. Suddenly, he’s holding me again. “I’m sorry.” He sounds like he’s going to cry. “I’m so sorry.” Edward picks me up and jumps up toward the balcony on the second floor of the dance studio.

    At this point, I’m bleeding from my head pretty bad, so my words sound as woozy as the rest of me feels when I try to tell Edward, “It’s not your faul--AH!”

    He’s pulled back down, and I go sliding across the glass on the floor. A large piece cuts up my broken leg.

    Edward’s thrown at the windows up by the ceiling, and James is at my side again. James takes my wrist in his hand, and looks Edward straight in the eyes as he bits into me.

    The scream that I let out burns my throat, but it fades from my ears. I can’t think of anything else but the pain. The feeling of fire spreads from the bite on my wrist to the rest of my body too fast. I can’t stop it. I need somebody to stop it.

    Eddie. Where’s Eddie? I need him. I need him so badly I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Somebody stop this! Somebody please, please stop this! Eddie! Eddie, please help me! It hurts too much! Eddie!

    “Eddie!” His name finally slips past my lips, and in the same moment I am finally able to take a breath. Just one breath, then it’s gone again. I can’t breathe again.

    Alice is kneeling at my side. When did I fall to the floor? When did the rest of the Cullens get here? She’s telling me, “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay!”

    I still think I am going to die.

    But that’s fine. I don’t care, really. I just want Edward to be at my side when I go.

    I think Alice went away, at some point. Now she’s back. Carlisle and Edward are here, too.

    Eddie!

    I take his hand.

    He looks down at the bite on my wrist. He looks terrified, like his worst nightmare is coming true.

    “Shhh.”

    ‘It’s okay, Eddie,’ I try to say, but it doesn’t get out. I grip his hand tighter, trying to comfort him. It doesn’t help with my pain, but it reminds me that he’s here. He’s with me. I try to think about only that.

    Carlisle has his hands on the open wound on my broken leg. He informs Edward, “Their femoral artery’s been severed. They’re losing losing too much blood.” He turns his head to his daughter. “Alice, your belt. Make me a tourniquet. Tie it above my hands...Go.” He orders Alice away because she’s getting distracted too much by my blood. Carlisle refers back to his son. “You could make a choice. You could let the change happen.”

    Do I want to become a vampire?

    “No,” Edward answers immediately. “No, no, no, no, no.”

    I know it’s killing him, seeing me like this.

    He turns away from me a little, and squeezes his eyes shut. I know that’s him stopping himself from drinking my blood. He looks like he’s going to cry again. He’s so disgusted with himself.

    I can feel the pain of not being able to properly talk to him under the pain of the bite. The agony of all my other of all my other injuries is insignificant. I hate myself as a scream of suffering tears from my lungs. I know what this is doing to Edward. I wish I could stop. A tear slips down my cheek because of this.

    Edward uses his free hand to wipe it away. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m going to fix this. Carlisle, what’s my other option?”

    ‘No, baby. It’s not your fault,’ I wanted to say, but I can’t, and it’s too late.

    Carlisle responds to his son, “You could try to suck the venom out.”

    “No. No, I won’t be able stop. Y-You do it!” He’s so scared.

    “You find the will to stop!” For a second, Carlisle loses his practiced patience while being this close to human blood. He quickly regains it. “I don’t have the same connection to them as you do. You have the best chance out of all of us at stopping yourself.”

    Edward keeps glancing between the bite on my wrist, and the cut on my leg. He’s sure he won’t be able to stop. He wants to save me so bad, but he has no faith in himself to do it.

    So, I force air into my lungs. That bubbles up another scream, but after I push that down, I grit out, “Eddie?”

    His eyes snap to mine.

    I can tell that Carlisle is baffled at how I have the strength to speak right now. I’m surprised too, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is I can finally see Edward’s eyes again.

    “Hey.” More tears spring to my eyes, but I smile. “I want you...ta’ listen to me...okay?” I want to scream again so badly, but not right now. “You can do this...I know...you can do this...”

    He starts shaking his head.

    I nod and respond, “Yes...you...can...” It hurts so much. But I know I would go through it for weeks if it meant I could be with him for an eternity. But he doesn’t want that. I don’t think about why. I just focus on what needs to be done. “Listen to me...Eddie...Eddie, I know you can do this.”

    Edward looks like he’s shaking as he brings my wrist to his lips. For a few seconds, he keeps eye contact with me to remind himself to keep his sanity. But then, his eyes slide shut, and everything starts going blurry for me.

    Carlisle warns Edward, “Stop. Their blood is clean. You’re killing them.”

    Edward’s eyes remain closed, and his lips stay on my wrist.

    I know I’m the only one who can bring him out of this. My free arm doesn’t even feel like it’s there anymore as I move it. I make contact with the side of his face. It’s weird. I can’t feel most of my arm, but I can feel his hair on my fingertips. It’s soft. I’ve never touched his face before. I’ve always tried my best to keep my pressure points away from his nose in an effort to make him more comfortable. I figure all that’s out the window now with my blood on his tongue.

    Over Carlisle’s intense voice, my words come out softer than a whisper. That’s all I have the strength for for now. “I’m okay, Edward...”

    His eyes snap open as my own slide closed.

    I dream about the nights that Edward snuck in through my window to hold me. I find that odd, because last time I checked, all of my dreams are nightmares of my father. But the more I think about it, I put together that I haven’t had a single bad dream since Edward gave up on trying to stay away from me.

    I hope I did enough to be able to see him again.

    “Did you hear that?” I recognize Edward’s voice right away. “Their breathing changed!”

    Esme sounds like she’s next to him. They’re both on the right side of my bed. “Edward, Carlisle said that Y/n probably won’t be awake for the next few days.”

    “But just listen. Come on, don’t you guys hear that?” Edward’s not giving up.

    I’m not surprised he’s the only one to hear my slight change in breathing. He probably memorized how I breathe a long time ago.

    “Edward, this is the fifth time you’ve gotten you’re hopes up about them waking up.” Emmett’s not convinced either.

    “Well, he’s right this time,” I defend. My voice is weak as shit, but I know they can all hear me.

    Alice immediately hugs me. “Y/n!” Obviously, she’s not using her real strength, but her arms are still bone-crushing.

    “Hey...” I gasp.

    Jasper comes to my rescue. “Alice, ease up on Y/n. They just woke up.”

    She realized her mistake. “Sorry!”

    “Look at you, Jasper,” I tease, “Being able to be around me, without looking like you wanna kill yourself, and in a hospital no less.”

    He smirks, “Well, it isn’t so bad now, with your leg stitched up.”

    “Oh, yeah. My leg,” I realize. “How is it?”

    Carlisle enters. “Y/n.” He explains his convenient appearance. “I was a few rooms away when I heard you talking. It’s a relief to have you back with us.” He informs, “As for your leg, you have a clean break on your fibula and tibia. You’re going to be recovering from that for about the next six months. You also have a few broken ribs, and a cracked skull. James certainly did a number on you.”

    Edward tenses up at the sound of my attacker’s name. His hand is in my own, and he hasn’t said a word since I opened my eyes.

    I ask, “And what happened to James?”

    “We ripped up and set that douchebag on fire!” Emmett excitedly boasted. He’s standing at the foot of my bed. “And we did a number on that dance studio too, pun definitely intend--”

    Carlisle, I think a little embarrassed of his son’s glorifying of violence, cuts in, “We took care of all of that. All you need to do now, is rest.”

    “Thank you guys so much. I would be dead ten times over if it weren’t for you...all of you.” I’m almost overwhelmed with emotion. I turn to Rosalie with my last words to emphasize that I truly mean all of the Cullens. I know she’s done a lot for me, too.

    At first, I just get her usual cold stare. But then, she gives me a short nod.

    I take that as us having a sort-of understanding now. I don’t question her further.

    “Um, I hate to cut this gathering short,” I turn back to everyone else, “but could I have a few minutes alone with Edward?” I know that privacy is going to be nonexistent now with this family, but it’s about the decorum, you know? And I’m also hoping that they at least don’t intentionally eavesdrop while they’re gone.

    The rest of the Cullens file out of the room, and Edward and I are alone.

    “Hey,” I sigh in relief as I finally get a good look at him.

    In his eyes, I see all his emotions. He’s partly relieved to be alone with me again, that also shows in his sigh once his family is gone. Mostly, however, he’s scared. I can tell that Edward is terrified.

    “Oh, Eddie,” I breathe, tears springing to my eyes. “Come here.”

    If he goes any faster, Edward would be using his vampire speed as he climbs into bed with me. Never has he reminded me so much of an actual seventeen year old boy. He tries to hug me close by pulling me in by my side, but we are both reminded of my broken ribs.

    A hiss of pain automatically leaves my lips.

    The only reason why he doesn’t go flying across the room like he did when we first kissed, I’m sure, is because he’s afraid of further hurting me. He does, however, pull away from me entirely. I see the panic in his eyes.

    “It’s okay! I’m okay,” I immediately comfort. “Look at me, I’m okay.”

    There’s so much self-hatred in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...I’m the reason you’re here.”

    “You’re the reason I’m alive, yes,” I clarify.

    He scowls. “You know what I meant.”

    “Please, don’t blame this on yourself,” I beg, “You protected me the best you could at every turn.”

    “And it still wasn’t good enough!” he shouts.

    Suddenly, my worst fear pops back into my mind. “Hey.” I take Edward by the sides of his face. “Hey. Look at me.”

    He does.

    “You better not think, for even a second, about leaving me,” I declare.

    He’s taking deep breaths, like he’s trying to will himself to do something. “You’d be better off.”

    “No, I wouldn’t be,” I argue. “I would never, ever get over you leaving me. I would never move on. I would be miserable for the rest of my life, you hear me? You leaving me would be worse than any physical pain I could ever experience, and I should know because I’m pretty sure I just lived through the worst of it.” I should not have said that part.

    Edward squeezes his eyes shut. So much pain and conflict must be raging in his head.

    I gently stroke his cheek with my thumb.

    He leans into my hand. When he opens his eyes, I know the worst of it is over. Eddie’s no longer planning on leaving me. He still looks guilty as hell, though. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats.

    “I’m okay, baby. I promise,” I affirm, cuddling into him.

    Eddie surprises me. He pulls me closer to him. Not by my side, of course. His hand’s on my hip.

    “This is new,” I joke. He’s never let himself this close to me.

    He smirks. “I’m trying something new.”

    In the next month and a half, the Cullens welcome me into their home. I barely ever leave.

    Emmett keeps me updated on current events. I had no idea how much reality TV he watches. Most of the time, I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I would rather him give me the latest on Supernanny than have him describe how he killed his latest bear.

    Jasper doesn’t exactly sit next to me, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk to me. We’ve had many in-depth conversations while situated across the room from each other. He reads almost as much as Edward. I don’t read as much as either of them, but they’ve both gotten me to pick up some novels. My favorite book that Jasper has recommended to me so far has to be Pride and Prejudice. The best part was Jasper’s face when I told him I had never read it before.

    Alice, of course, never lets me get bored. She’s got tons of magazines for me, whether I like or not. She also stays up-to-date with all of the drama at school, for some reason. The subjects on her mind that take most of my interest are people’s futures. Because she talks so much, she regularly runs into talking about her abilities. I find it so interesting how easily she processes all the possible futures that run through her head. Also, I’ve noticed that she (not-so-subtly) skids around Edward’s future. I wonder how much of my future she sees in his.

    Eddie barely leaves my side, by the way. The only times he’s not within my immediate eyesight are the extremely fast hunting trips he goes on. It’s like all his guilt about what happened to me got replaced by overprotectiveness. Well, more protectiveness than before (and somehow that’s possible).

    Esme is the only one keeping Edward from completely smothering me, I think. So many times, I’ve heard her pleasant voice drift across the room. “Edward? It’s okay, you can give Y/n some space. They’ll be safe. And you gotta remember, they’re still human, so they still need to breathe.” The joke made me smile. It even got Edward to bashfully back off a little, too. I think she’s the only person capable of doing that. Except for, maybe, myself.

    Carlisle is the exact opposite of my father. Eddie’s father is so unbelievably smart, and just so kind. He checks on my injuries all the time, you know, because he’s a doctor. At first, I wasn’t completely okay with him touching me, because of how my father treated me. Edward had to be right there next to me, holding my hand. Carlisle was entirely understanding of all of that. He made sure I was comfortable every step of the way. It just amazes me that Carlisle can be this good when I’ve had to deal with my father my whole life. I wonder if all other fathers are as good as him.

    Rosalie still gives me the cold shoulder most days. I don’t mind. I know she knows we’re family now. There’s no way around that. I know she doesn’t hate me, at least not as much as she did.

    The first time I leave the Cullen residence since everything is to go to Prom. Oddly, it’s Eddie who convinces me to go. Up until this point, he’s been hesitant to bring me out into the public while I heal. On top of my fragility, he still feels horribly guilty for what happened, no matter how much I tell him that I don’t blame him at all. Then, Prom rolls around, and suddenly our roles are reversed.

    My whole life, my father was not one for letting me out for anything but school. He was furious every time I came up with an excuse so I could go see Edward. School dances and other formal events were especially forbidden. I guess I’m still a little scared of the man even though he’s gone. But then Edward made this case that he wanted me to live a normal life (or at least as normal a life as we can manage). He also told me that he wouldn’t let my father come near me again, even if he was alive. I don’t know how. Eddie manages to make me feel so safe. So, here we are.

    Prom is objectively beautiful. I think I remember hearing something a while back about the theme being Monte Carlo. Alice was the one who made sure Edward and my outfits fit the theme to a T. The whole family looks amazing, and it’s fantastic to be included in that.

    Edward and I only stay in the main area for barely a half hour. We both get annoyed at the loudness of the party pretty fast.

    Outside, there’s this pretty gazebo that’s covered in fairy lights. That’s where Edward takes me. He pulls me close to him, and we start swaying to the slow music that’s playing.

    “Look at us. Dancing at Prom.” I smile at him. “And you said we didn’t have a normal life.”

    His lips up as well. “I didn’t say we didn’t have a normal life. I said I didn’t have a normal life, and I wanted the difference for you.”

    “Too late to turn back now,” I joke and lean into him. Silence floats between us, and I just listen to the music and think for a bit. I figure now is as good time as ever to bring it up. “I could’ve taken it, you know.”

    Eddie stays quiet.

    “It was hell,” I continue, “The worst thing I’ve ever experienced, but I can do it again.” I don’t need to name what I’m talking about.

    Edward knew. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want this.”

    “Yeah, I do,” I reply gently. I made my mind up while I was still in the hospital. “I never, ever want to let you go, Eddie. I want this.”

    Obviously, he doesn’t like what we’re talking about. The emotions I see cross his face are a little bit of anger, annoyance, and sadness, but mostly, it’s fear. He laments, “I’m not going to end your life for you.”

    “You really think you’d be ending my life?” I wonder, my eyes flicking between his. “Baby, my life so far has only been pain, guilt, and fear. But...eternity...with you? That’s more than life. That’s everything.”

    “But your life doesn’t have to be painful anymore,” Eddie answers so fast that he almost interrupts me. “I said that I wouldn’t change you, not that I was leaving you. You’ve made it clear enough that that isn’t an option,” he tries at a joke, but I can’t acknowledge it now. “I’m going to be with you the rest of your life. I’m going to protect you. You can finally live a normal life.”

    “A normal life is nothing compared to you.” Flashes of Edward as he is now with an elderly me light up my head. I hate it. I move away from those thoughts immediately. “Alice said that she saw me like you. I heard her.”

    He attempts to remind me. “Her visions change.”

    “They do. They’re based on what people decide. I’ve made my decision.”

    Edward pulls back from me a little. “So this is what you dream about? Becoming a monster?”

    I take his shoulders in my hands. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are not a monster. Your family are not monsters. Controlling the blood lust is something that can be taught. I’m willing to learn, no matter how hard it is. I want to be with you for the rest of your life, Edward. I want to be with you forever.”

    Right there, Edward gets a bittersweet look in his eye. “Forever?” he repeats. Slowly, he starts dipping me down, and leaning in towards my neck. “And you’re ready right now?”

    “Yes.” It’s the truth, but I know that it’s definite he won’t do anything now. He’s only trying to scare me away. I thought we were past this, but it’s clear to me now how much of a feat this next goal of mine will be to pull off.

    Edward doesn’t bite me, of course, but he does kiss my neck. He pulls away fast. He’s still upset. “Is it not enough just to have a long and happy life with me?” He straightens us up.

    “Not even a little,” I reiterate.

    Agitated, he turns away from me.

    Gently, I put my hand on his neck to encourage him to look at me again.

    He does.

    “But it is enough for now,” I clarify, hoping to put an end to this argument for the time being.

    Eddie understands.

    We rest our foreheads together, and just breathe.

    “I am proud of you, though, for kissing my neck.” A few months ago, I know he would have thought that impossible.

    My statement breaks the ice. He’s smiling again. Well, at least he is for a moment. Then, his face grows serious again, as Eddie’s face always does. He leans in again, and kisses my lips.

    We haven’t kissed since we went our separate ways before I got captured by James. Even after Eddie was able to stop himself from drinking my blood, Edward’s still cautious with me as ever. I still revel in kissing him as much as I always have.

    When we part, Edward whispers to me, “I am in love with you.”

    Those words bring tears to my eyes, even though I already know. “I haven’t said that yet, even after all this, haven’t I?”

    Eddie swipes the tears from my cheeks, but seeing it makes him cry as well. He shakes his head, because I don’t think he can form words at the moment.

    “Edward Cullen, I am in love with you,” I solidify. “I think I always have been.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. I can’t believe I actually wrote this, but fuck it, I’m proud of how it turned out. Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it as well. I would also really appreciate a comment if you left one. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!!! <3 <3 <3

[lumosinlove]

Sweater Weather

part xiii

Please read the warnings for this chapter in the tags if you feel you need them. <3

Come down, the text said.

Christmas had been wonderful. Remus’ mother had made a perfect Christmas morning breakfast of pancakes and sausages and fresh orange juice, something Remus hadn’t even been aware he missed so much. Julian’s face had been priceless when he opened the Lions jersey with his own name across the back, Sirius’ signature sprawled across the number 24 on the back. He had missed having his family around. Cooking with his mom, talking and reading on the couch with his dad, shooting pucks in the snowy park and washing the dishes with Julian sitting on the counter, chattering away and drying them carefully. It was peaceful. It was home.

But he couldn’t get his mind off of Sirius. Remus knew he was safe and happy at the Dumais’. Logan was there, too, they were family. Sirius would have been welcomed at any of the teams’ houses, he was sure. But Remus wanted Sirius at his house. He wanted to see his mother trying to teach Sirius to cook, hopeless but patient. He wanted to watch his father moon over him. He wanted to see Sirius watch and laugh when Julian got sleepy after dinner, insisting that he wanted to watch a movie even as his eyes started to close.

He wanted Sirius there, on the couch, as the ball dropped to bring in the new year, while his dad popped champagne and Julian jumped up and down, throwing the paper confetti they had cut that morning. His parents leaned in for a soft peck, whispering an I love you, and Remus just—he wanted.

The text said, come down.

Remus’ heart drove into double time.

They’re getting ready for bed, he replied.

Take your time. I’ll be here.

Remus bit back a smile and clicked his phone off, holding it to his chest.

“I’m leaving some dishes to soak,” his mom said, coming over to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll do them in the morning,” Remus said. “What time does your flight leave?”

“Not until tomorrow evening,” Hope looked at him for a moment, then reached forward to push his hair away from his face. “Re, I’m so happy that…well, you’ve really grown. You look so much happier than…well.”

“I know,” Remus said. Since the accident, was what she meant. He smiled, squeezing her hand. “I am. I really am.”

“Happy New Year’s, baby,” she said. “I better go make sure your brother’s in bed.”

Remus laughed. “Probably wearing his jersey again.”

Hope laughed. “Probably.”

Remus watched, trying not to be too obvious about it, as she poked her head into Remus’ room where Julian was sleeping, and then disappeared into the guest bedroom. She waved once, before shutting the door. Remus forced himself to go into the living room and make his bed out of the pull-out couch, giving her time to get ready for bed.

He lasted ten minutes before slipping out the door.

Coming, he sent off, and received a few exclamation points and a short, parking lot.

Remus glanced back down the hallway as he quietly put on his jacket, pulling a beanie low over his ears against the winter air. The house was quiet as he slipped outside.

Sirius’ car wasn’t running, but Remus spotted it easily in the parking lot as he ran through the chilly night and knocked on the window. Sirius looked up and reached over with a grin, popping the door open. He was wearing a puffy jacket and beanie of his own, his hands covered in gloves.

“Hey there, All-Star,” Remus said as he hopped in and pulled the door shut behind him.

Sirius half laughed, half groaned. “Don’t remind me. C’mere.”

Remus leaned over for a kiss, pressing his hand against Sirius’ cheek. Sirius made a noise and pulled back a little, taking Remus’ hand into his gloved ones.

“What are you doing? It’s fucking freezing, Loops.”

Remus just leaned forward for another kiss. “Wanted to see you.”

Sirius sent him a mockingly disapproving look before cupping Remus’ hands between his own. Remus watched, heart flipping, as he leaned down and blew hot air over them, then kissed the cold-red knuckles.

“Better?” Sirius said. “Good thing we’re going to Florida soon.”

But Remus half heard him, too focused on the way Sirius was holding Remus’ hands, his entire attention on keeping them warm. Keeping Remus warm.

“Can we…” Remus glanced towards the back seat. “Just, this thing is sort of…” he hit his knee against the gear shift. “In the way.”

Sirius laughed. “Say no more.”

Remus grinned, and there was a brief blast of cool air through the car as both of them moved to the back seat, Sirius behind the driver’s side, Remus the passenger’s. Remus got in first, and watched as Sirius pulled his door closed, breath a puff of air. Remus scooted over, pressing up against Sirius’ side. Sirius said something quick and sweet that Remus didn’t catch, as it was mostly mumbled into a kiss on his temple, and wrapped him up in his arms.

“Bonne année, mon loup,” he said quietly into the small space between them.

“Happy New Year,” Remus repeated as Sirius’ gloved fingers tilted his chin up for a kiss.

“How long do we have?” Sirius whispered, lips trailing across Remus’ cheek to his jaw.

Remus felt his eyes slip closed, the tension of being away from Sirius releasing at having him so close.

“Everyone’s asleep,” he said, fingers reaching to tug gently on the zipper of Sirius’ jacket. “I think we have a few hours.”

Sirius made a pleased noise, pressing a quick burst of kisses to Remus’ cheek. “Good. How was Christmas?”

“Really good,” Remus said. “Jules practically died at the jersey. Lots of baking. What about you, how’s Dumo’s?”

“Why did I ever leave such close proximity to Celeste’s cooking?” Sirius sighed, and Remus laughed. “No, but it’s great. The kids woke me and Logan up at, merde, five? In the morning? Was nice though.”

Remus bit back a smile. “Saw that picture Logan posted of your matching pajamas.”

“I’m going to murder him.”

Remus snorted, leaning in for a kiss. Sirius obliged for a moment, licking sweetly into his mouth, before he made a noise like he remembered something.

“Speaking of,” he said, absentmindedly taking Remus’ hands and pressing them beneath his jacket and sweater, right to the warm skin of his stomach, he winced a little, but held them there. “Warmer, non?”

Remus nodded faintly, unable to find the words.

“Speaking of murder,” Sirius began again, and Remus burst out laughing.

“What?”

“Re, I found your tapes.”

“Oh?” Remus said.

“Fuck me,” Sirius said, followed by a flurry of French. He pulled Remus towards him and kissed him hard. “I…you’re so fast.”

Remus smiled faintly, looking down. “I was, huh?” He glanced up, raising his eyebrows. “And that relates to murder because…?”

“I’m going to die watching them,” Sirius laughed. “Fuck, Re. You make goalies look like they can’t see out of their fucking masks. How did I never hear your name?”

Remus took a deep breath in through his nose. This was the closest to telling the truth he had ever come but, looking at Sirius in the soft yellow streetlight coming through the window, he felt okay. It wasn’t the whole thing, and maybe he’d never be ready for the whole thing…but it was almost. Sirius deserved that.

“You know Greyback?”

Sirius blinked, obviously surprised. “Yeah. First overall the year before me. He’s on…what, Golden Knights now?”

Remus nodded. “Right. Well, we—we were at Wisconsin together. We played. Everyone thought we would be drafted together.” Remus shrugged a shoulder. “Fenrir didn’t like the sound of that.”

Sirius’ face melted into one of horror. He understood. Of course he understood. “He was worried you’d take first.”

Remus just nodded again, then tapped his left shoulder. “Busted me up pretty good for it. Enough to convince the League I’d never play again. This was, I don’t know, few months before. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. No one likes thinking about career ending injuries when their healthy. Totally normal.”

“Re…fuck me, the next time we play Vegas—”

“No,” Remus hit him in the chest lightly. “No, you will not do anything except beat him and his team.”

Sirius groaned. “Please let me punch him.”

Remus laughed. “No.”

Sirius leaned in, pressing a kiss to one of Remus’ cheeks, then the other. “Mon Loup.” Sirius pulled at Remus’ waist until he gave way and straddled Sirius’ hips, head ducked low in the space of the car.

“Mon Loup,” Sirius said again, softly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Remus shook his head, kissing the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “It was a long time ago. It just…I didn’t trust anyone for a little while. Especially on the ice. It was easier like this, having the job I have. I’m in control. I’m there to help. Do I miss the ice? Of course. Every day. But I also really, really love my job.”

Sirius nodded, hands on Remus’ thighs, and Remus reached out for the number twelve necklace.

“Let’s talk about something happier,” Remus said. “This is a new year, you’re an All-Star, we’re probably going to the play-offs—”

“Non, non,” Sirius gasped, laughing lightly as he pressed a hand over Remus’ mouth. “Don’t say it.”

Remus laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, and Sirius soon replaced his palm with a kiss.

“We could have had an entire week off together instead of the fucking All-Star game, but…” Sirius groaned. “Don’t want to talk about that either.”

Remus ducked down and pressed a hard kiss to Sirius’ lips. “Okay, okay. Jeez, grumpy.”

Sirius, in contrast, made a delighted sound, and accepted the kiss. He went to tuck his fingers into Remus’ hair, but was instead met with the beanie.

“Cute,” he said, before taking it off. “Too cold?”

“Not a chance,” Remus breathed, his entire body heating up with Sirius’ touch. He pushed at Sirius’ shoulders a little, settling him into the corner between the seat and the door, so he could stretch his legs out, supporting Remus more. Sirius gripped Remus’ thighs appreciatively.

“I think the team finally gets how fucking hot you are,” Sirius said.

“Oh? Was that something you were hoping to discuss with them?”

Sirius snorted. “Non. Just…you’re—everything.”

Remus’ heart caught.

“I just mean,” Sirius said, his eyes on Remus’. “You save our asses every day, you help us. You are fucking talented as shit, and then, for me, you’re just…gorgeous. Mon dieu, Remus, you in the showers… if I hadn’t just come…”

Remus laughed. “Okay, enough compliments.”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s the year of compliments.”

“You’re too sweet for me.”

“No, I’m perfect for you.”

The words were true. Remus looked down at Sirius, soft in the streetlight filtering into the garage, and pressed his hands to his cheeks.

“I think you are,” Remus said softly, but that wasn’t good enough. He said it more firmly. “You are."

Sirius’ expression changed, laughter fading. They stared at each other.

“Remus,” Sirius said.

Remus’ thumbs stroked over his cheeks. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to hide forever.”

“I don’t want to either.”

“But I’m scared. I’m scared.”

Remus nodded, kissing Sirius once, twice. “I know. Don’t feel like you have to do anything, okay? Sirius, I…I’m in.” Remus took a breath, kissed him again, short and hard. “I’m in with you, okay? No matter what. As long as you’re here for me, too.”

“I am,” Sirius whispered. “I always want to be.” He smiled then, nervous but real, and tapped Remus’ wrist right over the watch he had gifted him.

Remus smiled, too, and Sirius leaned forward off of the seat to kiss him with a small, almost desperate noise.

“One day?” he said.

“Name the date,” Remus murmured against Sirius’ mouth. “I told you I’d wait.”

Sirius laughed lightly. “No pressure.”

“No,” Remus said, and pulled back to raise his eyebrows at him. “There’s really no pressure at all. Really, Sirius. As long as…as long as I have this, you, these moments…I’m so happy.”

Sirius’ expression was a quiet one, lost in thought for the most part, and adoring. He rubbed a hand up and down Remus’ side, loving. “Come somewhere with me this summer. Anywhere. A trip. I don’t care, Paris, the fucking jungle, Seattle. I don’t care, I just want to be somewhere. With you.”

Remus’ face broke into a grin. “I want that. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Sirius smiled back, and it filled up the entire space, the small car, the world, Remus’ entire chest.

“Happy New Year,” Sirius said, and kissed him.

Later, as Remus stood and watched Sirius drive away, he tried to think of where he had been this time last year. Happy, yes. Happy with his job, and himself, and how far he had come. Just beginning to think about coming out to his family, but never getting around to it. Loved by his family, his friends, his colleagues.

This year was different. No words had been put to it yet, and Remus understood why. But that didn’t change how he felt.

This year, he felt loved in an entirely different way.

This year, he was in love.

~

After Christmas, after Gryffindor’s Decembers, Remus was more than ready for a little sunshine in Florida. The Tampa Bay Lightnings had swept the Penguins last year in the playoffs, giving them lots of credit, at least in Remus’ mind. He was excited for the game, excited for the sunshine—

“Well, I’m excited to see you in a swimsuit.”

Remus looked down at Sirius, who was mouthing at the cut of his hips, carefully and torturously avoiding his hard cock. His hair was a wild, morning-mess of curls, and his eyes were sleepy, mouth soft and warm. The sunlight was filtering through the large windows in Sirius’ bedroom, and they were alone for the first time in what felt like weeks. Remus missed Sirius so much he felt it in his veins, and he guessed Sirius felt the same. He had been woken up at five in the morning, hours before they had practice, by Sirius’ hand gently cupping his soft cock through his underwear, Sirius’ already hard one against his hip.

“Jesus,” Remus breathed. “You just asked to suck my dick. I don’t think there’s anything left to be revealed.”

“I disagree,” Sirius said and bit down gently on Remus’ hip, looking up with a devastating mixture of bold and bashful. “You’ll tell me what’s good, d’accord?”

“It’s all good,” Remus grumbled, settling a hand in Sirius’ hair. “‘m gonna come just thinking about it.”

“No, no,” Sirius pressed a kiss to the side of Remus’ cock. “Not yet.”

Remus let his head fall back into Sirius’ pillows, spreading his legs further on his massive bed. Sirius pushed his arms under Remus’ hips, letting Remus’ calves rest on top of his shoulders. He kept his hands firmly on Remus’ waist, warm and strong.

“I might suck, okay?”

Remus, cock hard and flushed against his stomach, gave Sirius an incredulous look. “You might?”

Sirius blinked at him for a moment, and then burst out in a laugh, resting his forehead against Remus’ hip bone. “I meant I might be bad at this.”

“Sirius, you laughing next to my dick gets me going.”

Sirius bit his lip, and then moved his gaze to Remus’ cock again. It was thick, even if not quite as large as Sirius’. Remus’ pale skin was flushed all the way down his chest from Sirius’ mouth and the anticipation. He was practically tingling with it. His cock twitched hard when Sirius, finally, leaned down and pressed his mouth to the base in an open, soft sort of kiss.

Remus pet his hand through Sirius’ hair, watching quietly. He liked Sirius like this, sweet and careful. He could tell how turned on he was, though, but the way his hips were gently, almost unnoticeably, rocking against the bed.

He was so focused on Sirius’ hips, that the hot pressure around the tip of his cock nearly took him by surprise. Sirius sucked hard, and Remus felt the blunt pressure of his tongue against his slit, too.

“Oh,” Remus breathed out, fingers tightening in Sirius’ hair.

Sirius pulled off with a soft sound, and Remus’ cock bobbed above his stomach.

“Good?” Sirius asked simply, and Remus laughed, eyes closed.

“Yeah, baby.”

Sirius hummed appreciatively, and then he sucked Remus down, farther this time, hands moving down to Remus’ ass, fingers digging into the hard muscle.

Remus let out a long, unsteady breath. “Fuck…”

Sirius moaned in response and Remus’ hips jerked up.

“Ah—“ Remus gasped. “Sorry, you okay?”

Sirius just looked at him, and Remus could feel the hard press of his tongue. He realized Sirius was looking for instruction. The thought made Remus even hotter. Sirius, so confident on the ice, a menace, really, taking whatever he wanted. And yet waiting for Remus to tell him this.

He eased a hand around the back of his head, pressed down lightly. Sirius’ mouth moved with him, and Remus’ dropped open, his breathing heavy.

“Go easy,” Remus said, realizing immediately that it was a mistake.

Sirius’ eyes darkened, accepting the challenge.

“Jesus Christ,” Remus had time to say before Sirius was pulling off again and getting his knees beneath him, propping himself up to get a better angle. He laughed at Remus’ expression as he retrieved his hands from beneath Remus’ thighs, letting Remus’ legs splay out on either side of his hips. He circled his hand around Remus’ cock. He jacked him a few times, drawing a dribble of precome out.

“Easy?” he questioned, and then bent again, lips brushing the red head. “Remus…”

Remus smirked. Sirius was smug again, brimming with confidence. Remus wanted both sides, and he loved that Sirius gave them to him so willingly. “Alright, do whatever you want, Captain.”

That pulled the arousal back into Sirius’ expression, and Remus could see his cock now, heavy between his legs and dripping onto the sheets. Sirius bent, wordless, and slipped Remus back into his mouth, inch by inch, until his lips met his fist and Remus’ breathing was shaky.

He dragged up, cheeks sucked in, and Remus let his head drop back on the pillows again, hands fisting the sheets.

“Of course you’re good at this. Is there anything you aren’t good at, Christ, Sirius.”

Sirius just hummed, making Remus’ hips jolt again, and reached for Remus’ hand, placing it back on his neck.

“Aw, baby,” Remus said, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder muscle and then cupping the back of his head.

Sirius’ fingers found Remus’ hips again, digging in and he moaned. Remus wanted to touch him so bad, could catch glimpses of his cock, stiff and needy. Remus relaxed into the rhythm Sirius was building up, mouth open at the wet glide around his cock. He ached with it, felt the pressure building in his core.

“I’m gonna come soon,” Remus said, widening his legs as his balls drew up. “Sirius…”

Sirius didn’t pull up, but sucked harder, twisting his fist around Remus’ cock while he tongued at the head.

“Fuck, you’re so—” Remus’ hips strained upward, head digging into the pillows as his back arched. “I’m gonna, Sirius, I’m gonna—”

Sirius moaned in a way that sounded negative, like he was telling Remus not to come yet. It made Remus gasp. Sirius sunk down again, splaying his legs so he could rut against the bed. He sucked in time to his own thrusts, his eyes shut. His cheeks had a dark flush on them and Remus’ cock pulsed as he tried not to come, as Sirius gripped him hard around his base. It prolonged the crest, the feeling of being just there but not quite. Remus felt like he was already coming, his breathing quick with it. The position showed off Sirius’ shoulders, muscles moving with every hard flex of his hips.

Remus’ back arched harder, and then he forced his hips back down on the bed. His balls ached with how good he felt.

Sirius pulled off with a gasp, panting with his cheek on Remus’ hip. Remus’ cock was shining with his spit and jerking as it pulsed out precome.

“Loops,” Sirius panted, and mouthed just above his own fist, sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss. “Fuck, okay, come, come for me.” he said, and trailed his mouth back up to the tip, sucking Remus down again.

Both of Remus’ hands went to Sirius’ head this time. Sirius held Remus’ hips, his own working faster now, grinding down in small circles. He pulled up to suck hard on the head, and Remus was finished. His hips jolted and he moaned as he came hard into Sirius’ mouth. Remus’ hands pulled at Sirius’ hair and Sirius kept him warm and steady for another moment, tongue gentle.

Sirius pressed his forehead to Remus’ hip again as his fist worked him down, grinding against the bed with small sounds that Remus swore were going to get him hard again.

“C’mere,” Remus wrapped his hands around Sirius’ arms, pulling him, and then pushing him, until he was settled on his back. Remus trailed his fingers up Sirius’ wet cock and Sirius closed his eyes. “What do you want baby? Anything.”

Sirius opened his eyes again and, without a word, gathered Remus to his chest. Remus came willingly, kissing Sirius’ neck and jaw, his cheeks and temples, anywhere he could reach.

“You’re so good,” Remus whispered as he ground his hips and sensitive cock against Sirius’ straining one. “That was so fucking good.”

Sirius made a low noise, arms wrapped around Remus’ back. “Re.”

“Come for me, baby,” Remus grinned. “And then you can think about me while you’re in the showers today, eh?”

“Oh fuck me,” Sirius managed to laugh, temples beaded with sweat as he rut up against Remus.

Remus felt that protectiveness flame up in his gut, familiar by now. He went back to kissing Sirius' neck, teeth scraping and heart leaping with the idea of leaving a mark that he knew he couldn’t leave.

“Je le veux,” Sirius said when he felt Remus’ teeth. I want it.

“This summer,” Remus breathed. “I promise.”

Sirius came between them, sudden and long. He held Remus against him, pressing his lips against his temple.

I love you, Remus thought for what felt like the thousandth time since New Year’s.

He kissed Sirius slowly, trying to pour the words out.

“Love waking up with you,” Sirius said, hands stroking down Remus’ sweaty back. His voice was scratchy and soft. “Watching you wake up, blinking and all that.”

Remus pressed his cheek against Sirius’ chest, listening to his heart. It was pounding.

I love you. I love youIloveyou—

Sirius’ alarm went off.

“Fuck,” Sirius laughed, and squeezed Remus tighter. “Shower? You know, the thing I’m going to embarrass myself in today after I get hard thinking about you.”

Remus grinned, cock fattening again with interest at the image. “That sounds nice.”

“Which one?” Sirius looked down at him, eyes on his semi. He reached for it, palming it gently. Remus’ breathing quickened again and he raised his head, doing his best to look innocent.

“Both.”

Sirius snorted, slapping Remus’ ass and rolling them out of bed.

~

Florida was just as warm as Remus was hoping it would be. Warm enough, and sunny enough, for the team to organize a beach workout.

“They call it a beach workout,” Logan said, throwing his hat down on a lounge chair so he could pull his shirt over his head. Remus eyed the fleur-de-lis tattoo on his left hip, a dark outline against his tan skin. “But it’s a beach day.”

“Sand sprints,” Kasey sighed, watching the waves and the rest of the team settle down in various rows of beach chairs. “Oh joy. Oh joy, oh joy.” He mumbled that to himself before discarding his shirt, too. “Yo, Loops, from one pale guy to another, wanna do my back?” He held up a bottle of sunscreen.

Remus really liked beach days.

“Sure, Kase,” Remus said.

“Sucks to suck,” Logan said, flexing his shoulders. “No burning here, baby. Can’t speak for freckles over here.”

“Hey,” Finn pushed his sunglasses into his hair as he threw his stuff down on the chair beside Logan. “Skincare is important.”

“I’m going swimming,” Leo announced, and shoved Finn in the direction of the water.

“Hey, Nut,” Logan snorted. “Ask Finn about seaweed.”

“That was one time, it’s slimy, and if any of it so much as floats near me, I’m done.”

Leo laughed. “I’ll protect you, Harz, come on.”

Logan stared after them, but didn’t follow. When he turned, he had put his own sunglasses back on, and Remus couldn’t read his expression. Logan sat down heavily on his chair. Maybe Remus would be able to find some time to get him alone this trip.

“Loops,” Sirius said, walking up to them through the sand. He looked gorgeous, baby blue bathing suit setting off his tan skin nicely. “There’s a chair with me, Talker and James, if you want it.”

“Thanks,” Remus smiled, trying to subtly check out the curve of his ass in the thin material. “C’mere, Kase, before I go.”

Kasey handed him the sunscreen and Remus squirted some into his palm. He sent another look to Sirius, who’s eyes were carefully blank, and smirked as he rubbed the lotion into Kasey’s sun-warmed, strong back.

“Aw, you’re just like Nat,” Kasey said. “Warming it up in your hands and shit, man.”

Remus laughed. “Thanks?”

“Always taking care of us, eh, Loops?” Sirius said.

“I do my best.”

The entire beach was crowded, and some girls in the tiniest bikinis Remus had ever seen asked for pictures with a few of the guys—Thomas the most popular—but other than that, everyone was relaxed and enjoying the much needed break from the brisk winds of Gryffindor.

Remus was on a chair between Sirius and Thomas, chin tilted up towards the warmth.

“Looking a little pink there, Loops.”

Remus cracked an eye open and looked at Sirius, who had just come back from a dip in the ocean. His hair was pushed away from his eyes, sopping and sticking up. The salty droplets fell down his body and Remus, behind his sunglasses, allowed himself a glance at the way his trunks wetly clung around the shape of his soft cock.

Remus loved beach days.

“I’m gonna put the umbrella up.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Thomas said, coming up behind Sirius, dark skin glistening and smile bright.

“Thanks, Talker,” Remus grinned at Sirius’ expression, as if offended that another man would get to raise Remus’ umbrella for him.

“No problemo. I’m gonna get a smoothie, anyone want one?”

“Yes,” James gasped, looking up from where he was lying on his stomach, and Remus jumped. He had thought he was asleep. “Please, I would like—strawberry banana? Yeah, that’s what I want.”

“Anything blueberry, I think,” Sirius said. “Thanks, Walkie.”

“Same,” Remus smiled up at him.

Sirius kicked Remus’ foot as Thomas walked away. Remus looked up in time to see Sirius glance at James, and then jerk his head towards the sea.

Remus smiled, and pushed himself out of his chair.

“Beach days are the best,” Remus said as his feet sunk down in the sand.

Sirius snorted. “Why, because you get to rub sunscreen all over Kasey Winter?”

“That was nice. Maybe it’s because Thomas is walking around all handsome.”

Sirius made a noise that was close to a whine and Remus laughed.

“Maybe it’s because your swimsuit’s clinging to your dick like they’re in love.”

Sirius burst out laughing as they waded into the water. “Alright, alright.”

The water was warm and Remus sunk right into rolling wave, diving down below it and letting the current pull him back for a moment before surfacing. The salt was cool and heavenly on his skin. He flicked his hair out of his face and looked up at Sirius, squinting in the sun.

“I’m never going back to winter,” Remus said.

“Yeah?” Sirius was smiling softly at him, eyes darting all over his face. Suddenly, he could see it. A trip with Sirius, just the two of them. No practice. No worries.

Remus shook his head, and dunked beneath the water again. Everything became quiet for a moment. He could hear the sand sifting against itself. The silence made his thoughts suddenly loud.

He loved Sirius.

He loved Sirius.

Remus broke through the surface just in time for Sirius to dive under. He felt Sirius’ hand press against his chest, submerged, and then it was gone as Sirius surfaced again. But Remus was grinning, hand where Sirius’ had been.

From the sea, Remus could see how the team had spread out. Jackson, Evgeni, Sergei, and Pascal were playing volleyball a little ways down, Leo and Finn were still in the water together. Remus didn’t see Logan. He hoped he went to get smoothies with Thomas. He could see Olli near by, sun shirt and sunhat on, in the shade, happily away from the sun and reading a book.

“Did you notice anything funny with Logan at Christmas?” Remus asked Sirius as they floated together, carried up and down with the waves and hands brushing.

“This again?” Sirius smiled a little and shrugged. “I don’t think so? I mean, I think it’s funny that he’s not living with Finn, but who am I to talk? Took me a long time to move out, too. Celeste is heaven in a person.”

Remus smiled, licking salt from his lips. “Yeah, no…” Remus finally spotted Logan on the beach. He was still sitting on his chair, eyes down and on his phone. “I just was wondering.”

“What do you think’s up with him?”

Remus shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Okay… I am the captain, you know.”

“No, really?”

Sirius grinned, floating on his back. “I just mean I’m here to help.”

“I’ll let you know, Captain.” What Remus didn’t say was, I actually think this one might help you.

“Hey,” Sirius said, and Remus looked. Sirius was sun-kissed. His eyes took on the light color of the water. Sirius swam closer, even though no one was close enough to hear. “I’d kiss you right now if I could. You look gorgeous.”

Remus let their feet brush in the floating sand. “I’d kiss you right back, baby.”

~

“Florida ice sucks,” Finn yelled, slapping his stick against it. “Bouncy mother fuck.”

They were at morning practice, two hours of ice time at the Lightning’s rink before the game that night. Remus was partly watching Sirius laughing as he and Olli played keep away while the next drill was set up, partly nodding along to Finn, leaning against the boards complaining, and partly looking at Logan across the rink, silent beside where Pascal and Kris were talking. He was shuffling a small bit of shaved ice with his stick, back and forth, back and forth.

“Loops, you should practice with us,” Finn said.

“He’s not insured,” Coach said, flipping through his notes. He was firm, but he sounded sorry. “If he gets hurt, he could sue us.”

Finn scoffed. “What if I pay him off right now?”

“Harzy, get your ass out on that ice and don’t complain about it.”

Finn sighed, but bumped his glove against Remus’ fist. “I fought for you. You took me down, and I fought for you.” He tapped his temple. “Remember that, Lupin.”

Remus laughed. “Whatever you say, Harz.”

Sirius was in full blown captain-mode, laser-focused on making sure they won every game they could. It was January now. They were getting closer and closer to clinching a play-off spot. But they had to keep winning. Remus watched him touring around the ice, checking in on everyone—Leo, in goal. Talking plays with Pascal. Mostly discussing but sort of arguing with the coaches in the endearing and intimidating way that he had.

Remus loved him.

They were five minutes into three-on-three drills when Logan went down hard near the goal, accidentally tripped up by Leo. It was an awkward, sudden fall, a caught skate blade-on-blade. It took him a second to get up, and Remus didn’t know if it was because he was hurt, or becomes of something else. He had been acting dazed all practice, Remus was trained to look for that for concussion reasons. Only, Logan hadn’t hit his head.

Sirius skated up to him, stopping just short of the boards. “I want you to check Tremz out.”

“The kid’s asleep on his feet,” Moody said from beside Remus. “Or something.”

“Tremz,” Remus called, and motioned him over with a beckoning hand.

Finn skated with him, as if afraid Logan was going to fall. By the look on Logan’s face, Remus didn’t think it was an entirely unreasonable fear.

“I’m telling you, Lo, Florida ice,” Finn said as Logan stepped off. His tone was teasing, but his worried eyes met Remus’.

Alright, come with me, Tremz.”

“Okay,” Logan said. He didn’t look at Finn.

“I just got tripped, Loops,” Logan said from the exam table. Remus saw the sleepless purple beneath his eyes. “Everything feels fine.”

“I know, it didn’t look bad,” Remus said as he washed his hands. “It took you a second to get up though. Feeling okay? I noticed a little at the beach, too. Thought it was the heat, but…”

Logan was silent for a few, long beats.

“Yeah,” he finally said, and that was all. It was faint, and Remus sighed and turned around. Logan was staring at his hands, gloves and helmet beside him.

“Logan,” Remus began, and Logan looked up. Remus stayed across the room, leaning against the sink and shelves. “I just want you to know…I want you to know that I’m a resource for you. That the confidentiality that applies to people like doctors, any sort of doctor, applies to me. I only have to report things if I feel like they pose a danger to yourself, or to other people.”

Logan blinked at him, hands twisting in his jersey.

“I’m here, Tremz. If you want to talk. If you need anything. Really. I’m here.”

Remus turned around, then, giving him space, busying himself with random things until—

“I’m so…” Logan’s voice was faint, small in a way that Remus had never heard it.

Remus turned around slowly, and his heart hurt for him. Logan was staring at his hands, still pulling at his jersey, and his eyes were dull with the pain of whatever he was thinking about.

“I’m…” he tried again, and swallowed hard. He looked up at Remus. “I’m horrible.”

Remus shook his head slowly, and walked over to him. “Why do you think that?”

Logan looked down again. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, there were tears on his dark lashes.

“Fuck,” he wiped at them roughly, angrily.

“It’s okay, Tremz, hey…” Remus reached out, rubbing a hand over his back.

“No, it’s—” Logan tried again.

And then suddenly, in the next breath, Logan was sobbing. Great, heaving sobs that wracked his entire body. The scary part was, they were nearly silent besides his ragged breathing, as if he couldn’t bear to let them out but couldn’t catch his breath either. They tore out of him.

“It’s okay,” Remus said softly. “This is okay.”

Logan buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, and cried.

Remus felt tears in his own throat just at the sight. This was hurt. This was pure hurt.

“I can’t love him,” Logan said, breathing hitching while he tried to get the words out. “I can’t—they’re—”

Remus took that in stride. He figured this was something to do with sexuality, based on what Leo had said—or, rather, shown. He thought of the multi-colored thread of his bracelet.

Remus shook his head. “Yes, you can.”

Logan looked up at him, green eyes bright and chest still jumping with his tears. He shook his head. “No.”

“Yes,” Remus said gently. “Logan, you can love whoever you want.”

“Not here,” Logan’s lip trembled and he blinked new, hot tears. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jersey. “Fuck, Loops you see what they—if they knew…”

“I know,” Remus said quietly. “I understand why you’re scared. I’m…” Remus took a breath. “I’m the same. And when I was playing…I was scared, too.”

That froze Logan in his tracks.

If anyone had told Remus a year ago that the first person he would be coming out to was Sirius Black, the second Leo Knut, and the third Logan Tremblay, he would have laughed.

“You’re…” Logan breathed.

Remus nodded silently. “Yes. And I understand.”

In the next moment, the door was opening.

“Hey, Loops, is Tremz—”

Remus felt Logan recoil at Finn’s voice, eyes widening at Remus as they both turned to look.

For a moment, Remus could only watch as Finn appeared, just his head and shoulders through the door, sweat dripping from his hair. The smile slowly dropped from his face as he took in the sight in front of him. Logan’s red eyes. His shaking hands.

He took another step inside. “Lo, oh my god.”

“Harz, do you want to give us a minute?” Remus said as steadily as he could. This was not what Logan needed. He should have locked the door.

“Lo, what’s wrong?” Finn looked at Remus. “Is he okay? What’s—Lo, what’s wrong?”

“Finn,” Remus said more firmly. “I’m asking you to give us a minute.”

“Logan,” Finn said again, taking another step through the door. He looked tall on his skates, but wrecked by what he was seeing. Remus heard Logan let out a low sob from beside him, and watched Finn’s face break, worried and confused.

“Finn, leave,” Remus said, and walked forward, pushing Finn gently backwards.

“Hey, no—get off me,” Finn said louder, and looked desperately back at Logan. “Lo…”

Logan looked down, lip shaking like it was taking everything in him to hold himself together.

Remus had never seen Finn aggressive off of the ice. For a moment, Remus thought he was going to push back, but then he deflated again.

“Logan,” Finn pleaded.

“Finn, I swear to fucking god, listen to me,” Remus gave him a shove. He opened the door. “I’m sorry, I know. You can talk to him later, that’s up to you, but right now, this is my office.”

Remus shut the door. They could both see Finn’s silhouette, standing there still, through the shade on the window. After a few, long moments, it disappeared.

Remus turned. “Oh god, Logan, I’m so sorry, I should have locked—”

Logan let out another breath, half air half tears, and shook his head. “None of this is your fault.”

“No, I told you that you could talk and then the person you’re talking about fucking—walks right in.”

Logan looked up, startled. “You know?”

“I…”

Logan’s hands gripped the padded table on either side of his thighs. “Do people know?”

“No, no, no—” Remus held up his hands, walking back over to him. “No, I swear, Tremz, no one knows.”

“How do you?”

Remus took a breath. “Um. Well…”

“Remus,” Logan said. He looked truly panicked. “Remus.”

“I can’t say that without—” Remus sent Logan a pleading look.

“Was it Finn?”

Remus pressed his lips together. He shook his head.

“It was Leo,” Logan said.

Remus knew before he could help it that his surprised expression gave him away. He guessed that he shouldn’t be that surprised. Leo and Logan were roommates on the road. It was logical that Leo would be a friend Logan might have confided in.

“Yes,” Remus stumbled through the word, and only because Logan had said, rather than asked.

Logan put his head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

“Do you…what’s can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “I don’t even know what I can do.”

“I think…I think you should talk to Finn. Then you two can figure out what you want to do. It’ll be hard and awkward but…it’ll work out. I know it will. You guys have a strong friendship.”

When Logan laughed, he sounded unbearably tired. “When has anything like that ever worked out before?”

Remus smiled a little. If he only knew.

“Just trust me, okay? Can you?”

Logan let out a long, exhausted breath. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. he snuffled, and rubbed his jersey against his face. “Fuck…yeah. I can.” Then, Logan looked at him carefully. “Are you…do you have someone?”

Remus hesitated, but nodded silently. “But I won’t say more than that.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “He’s in the League.”

“Go talk to Finn,” Remus evaded the question, then paused. “Maybe after you’ve both cooled off a little.”

Logan heaved himself off of the table. “Thanks, Loops. Really, I…I don’t really talk about this. My sisters, they want to talk about it, but I just…”

Remus waited patiently. Logan still looked tired, but he was standing a little straighter now.

“I’ve always been scared of it,” Logan said. “I was never allowed. I’m still not allowed.”

“Oh, you’re allowed,” Remus shook his head. “They are just people stupid enough to believe they can control something like that. Logan.”

Logan looked up at him.

“You said you love him.”

Logan’s eyes closed and he looked down again.

“And,” Remus gestured at the door. “I don’t know if you noticed, but he was about to take a swing at me just to get to you, so… it’s pretty clear to me that he has some sort of feelings, too.”

Remus had a brief, panicked thought, suddenly remembering June. He didn’t understand that part of this. From the way Finn had just acted, to whatever Leo, who lived with Finn, seemed to think…he didn’t know how she fit in.

“Feelings and a girlfriend,” Logan said, voice thick again.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t…” God, Remus ached for him, remember seeing Sirius with girls. “It’ll feel good to tell him, I think. He’s your best friend. Let him be there for you in any way that he can. Logan, you need people to support you through this. I didn’t have that, but now I do. And it’s really fucking important.”

Logan sniffed, eyes filling again. “I’ve never said it.”

Remus sucked in a breath. Me neither, he wanted to say, but instead he wrapped his arms around Logan, feeling him return the hug with a little bit of surprise.

“I think you should,” Remus said.

As he said it, he made a vow to himself, too.

~

The stadium was blue that night with Lighting jerseys, warm-up music blasting as the two teams skated around the ice. There were some vibrant spots of red near the glass, and Remus watched as Sirius skated over to a father and his two small children, one boy, one girl. The girl was wearing Thomas’ jersey, and the boy was wearing Sirius’. Remus smiled as Sirius waved at them with his glove, and then whistled at Thomas. Thomas skated over, too, asking the little girl for a high five through the glass, and then pretending to be knocked over and onto the ice with her force. She giggled madly. Sirius threw a puck over to the boy, then posed for a picture.

His attention was pulled away by the sound of a hard stop in front of the boards near him.

“Fucking ice,” Finn grumbled. He looked at Remus, then away, cheeks flushing. Pascal was with him, and squirted him with a water bottle.

“Not with the cameras and microphones around, mon cub. Florida will kill us all.”

Finn rolled his eyes. He looked tense. He didn’t look at Logan, a few feet away, on his knees and stretching.

Remus caught Logan’s eye and raised an eyebrow. Logan shook his head. So, they hadn’t talked about it yet. That was good, it had only been a few hours. By the looks of it, Remus would guess that they weren’t talking at all right now.

“Don’t let it affect your play, Harzy. It’ll work out,” Remus said quietly, and Finn’s eyes snapped towards him. They went hard, and he all but threw his water bottle back into the bench slots.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Finn said lowly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” came a new voice, and one of Tampa’s blue uniforms came skating up, taking Finn immediately into a headlock. “If it isn’t my baby brother.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. He had completely forgotten that Finn’s brother played for Tampa. That he had a brother in the League at all.

“Alex, come on,” Finn groaned as Alex rattled his helmet before letting go. Finn laughed though, and hugged him, slapping his padded shoulder. “Hey, man. Ready to get your ass whipped?”

“Fat fucking chance,” Alex shook his head, and smiled at Remus. He had his brother’s smile, all blinding perfect teeth, crinkling soft brown eyes. Alex kept a faint, red stubble that Finn shaved clean off. He called for Logan, then, who skated over a little hesitantly, and bumped fists with him.

“Sup, Lo,” Alex said. “Haven’t seen you in the city for a few years, what’s that about?” He glanced back at Finn, who’s smile had faded. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Remus. “These kids lived at each other’s houses during college.”

Remus smiled back, dying a little inside at the pain he wasn’t sure Finn’s older brother knew he was currently causing.

“I can believe it,” Remus said.

Logan coughed and shuffled a little on his skates. “Just busy, I guess.”

“I guess,” Alex parroted with a laugh. “Alright,” he smacked Finn’s ass with his glove. “Good luck little brother, love you bunches.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Finn grumbled, retaliating with a shove from his stick, but he smiled again. Remus was glad, because he could see about fifteen cameras trained on them.

“Boys,” Sirius stopped hard in front of them. “The fuck are we standing around here? Circle shoot, come on.”

Logan shot away as fast as it seemed that he could. Finn, however, looked again at Remus. His brown eyes were worried and Remus did his best to look back calmly.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, and then glanced at Pascal, who was very obviously pretending like he wasn’t listening.

“You can’t know that,” Finn said quietly.

“But we can hope,” Remus replied, and then nodded towards center ice. “Cap’s calling. Play the game first, and come find me later if you want.”

Finn took a long, slow breath, and then wordlessly skated away.

Pascal took his place in front of Remus, and he was smiling. “Sometimes we all simply need a little baby push in the right direction, non?”

Remus stared at him. Pascal just kept smiling.

“Like a dinner invitation,” Pascal shrugged exaggeratedly. “On a stormy night.”

Remus nearly choked. “I—Dumo.”

“I have a game to play, Remus,” Dumo sing-songed as he skated away to shoot on Leo.

“Dumo,” Remus yelled.

“What are you yelling at Dumo for?” Coach said, coming out of the tunnel with his line card.

Remus stared at him. “Um—the water bottles, he was unscrewing the water bottles.”

“Oh,” Arthur laughed. “The usual.”

“Yeah,” Remus said distractedly. “Apparently.”

~

They won 3-2, two goals from Thomas and one from James. The atmosphere in the locker room as everyone packed up to get back on a plane to Gryffindor was calm and pleased. Remus was packing up his supplies in the visitor’s PT room when there was a knock at his door. Remus looked up.

“Finn,” he said, not completely surprised. “Hi. Good game.”

Finn sent him a small, wavering smile. His hair was tucked beneath a beanie and he had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his light gray suit.

“Can we talk?” he said.

“Of course,” Remus gestured to a chair and the exam table. “Where ever.”

Finn pulled the hat from his head, red hair a mess beneath, flopping over his forehead. He let out a long breath as he hitched himself up onto the table, vans swinging on his feet.

“Logan’s really hurting,” he said. “And it’s my fault.”

Remus blinked. Based on Logan, he had thought he was going to have to work a little harder to get Finn talking.

“Okay,” Remus said slowly. “Why is it your fault?”

“Because I’m an asshole.”

Remus laughed, just a little. “Harz, you aren’t an asshole. What do you mean?”

Finn took a few moments to respond. He was pulling at his suit lapels and seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek.

“Loops, what I’m about to tell you…”

“Doctor’s confidentiality, Harz,” Remus said. “It’s the same deal as you telling me you think you might have an STD. That information’s going no where, unless I think you’re about to cause someone else some harm.”

Finn actually laughed. “Oh. That’s a real nice image, thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Me, um. Me and Logan, in college…we had, well, I wouldn’t call it a thing but,” Finn looked up at Remus, expression soft. “Logan’s my best friend. That’s all we’ve—that’s all we’ve said, but I,” Finn pressed a hand over his mouth, staring at the wall. He laced his fingers together, then, elbows on his knees. Remus watched him think it through, watched the words formulate in his mind. He watched Finn feel them in his entire being. “Remus, I love him so much. Really, love him, I mean. I’m—I’m in love with him.”

Remus looked at him. He admired him. Finn was nodding slowly to himself, eyes closed. Remus understood Logan’s pain now. Logan, who had never said such a thing, not even when Remus had flat out asked him.

“Finn, that doesn’t make you an asshole.”

Finn just gave him a pained look. “June.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, maybe explain that to me.” When Finn didn’t answer, but just pressed his fingers into his eyes, Remus took a step further. “Finn, was…was this, like, a jealousy thing?”

“It didn’t start that way,” Finn said. “At first it was…it was me trying to be happy. Me trying to move on.” Finn groaned. “I…I really, really like June. And she really likes me but,” he laughed, a little tearfully. “It took her about three fucking days after I asked her on a date to figure me out. Literally, I thought we were going to lunch and she fucking sat down like, alright, O’Hara, who are you in love with?” Finn rubbed a hand over his face, laughing again, but the laugh was sad. “I thought I was going to fucking cry.”

Remus thought Finn looked like he was going to cry right now.

“After I told June what was up,” Finn sighed. “We became really good friends. Like, is that weird? She’s the first person I got to open up to. Ever. She’s—fuck, she’s incredible.”

It actually made pretty good sense to Remus. He’d never actually seen them kiss, but he could see the affection there.

“And she said she would come to family skate with me, as a friend, because my family was at my brother’s this year, right? Here, in Tampa. But everyone assumed she was my girlfriend, of course, I mean that’s logical.”

“Right…”

“And then she went along with it, maybe to help, and then I saw the look on Logan’s face, and I thought…” Finn stopped abruptly, swallowing hard. “I thought…maybe now he’ll talk to me. Maybe we can sort this out. Maybe I’ll finally tell him…I’ll tell him…”

But he couldn’t finish.

“I think,” Remus began. “I think you guys should talk to each other. Really, just—just a long, sit down talk.”

Finn nodded. “I try. Logan…fucking French.”

Remus smiled a little. “There’s a lot of history here that I don’t know about, and a lot of feelings I wasn’t there for. Only you two know how you feel, and what you want.”

Finn still looked conflicted, though, and he was rubbing at his heart like it hurt. “But Leo—”

Remus tilted his head a little at him. Logan had mentioned Leo, too.

“Does Leo know about all this? What is he, like the middle man between you two? Because he’s the one who told me to talk to Logan.”

Finn’s head snapped up. “Really?”

“Yeah, but he also told me about you and June, so—”

“No, no,” Finn said, suddenly standing. “Leo knows about me and June. Like, the truth. Logan doesn’t know.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Well, Logan’s the one you’re in love with, right?”

Finn’s smile was sad. “Only for seven years of my life. But, there's…”

Remus waited for him to go on, but he didn’t, just shook his head. “Well,” Remus said. “Then I think maybe you should tell him that you don’t have a girlfriend. That might make things a little easier for him.”

Finn groaned. “Yeah. Fuck me, see? I’m an asshole.”

Remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “No, Harz. You’re trying your best to be yourself in a world that’s making it really fucking hard. You’re brave. You just need to talk to the people who will help you. You’ll support each other.”

Finn blinked at him, and then cursed and pulled Remus into a hard hug, face tucked into his neck.

“You helped me, Loops. Fuck me,” Finn pulled back and he was sniffling a little. “Do you get paid for this?”

Remus laughed. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Remus patted his shoulder. “We need to get on a bus now, Harz.”

“A long talk to him on the bus,” Finn’s face lit up with anticipation and nerves.

Remus shook his head. “No.”

Finn sighed, but nodded as if resigned to Remus being right. “We’ll talk to him at home.”

Remus tilted his head as Finn turned towards the door. “We?”

“Catch you on the plane, Loops!” Finn called, and let the door close slowly behind him.

It was caught by a hand before it closed. Sirius’ head poked in.

“Jeez,” he said, and then grinned while Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius closed the door, turned the lock, and then pulled Remus in with his hands on his hips. He leaned down to brush their lips together, his hair, wet from his shower, dripping cooly on Remus’ neck. “You’re city hall today, eh?”

Remus grinned, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck. He looked handsome in his dark gray suit. “You have no idea.”

“Is this to do with your Logan fixation?”

Remus snorted. “Oh God. That makes it sound like I have some sort of kink for him.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Remus laughed, and pulled him down for a hard kiss, licking into his mouth before sealing it with a soft scrape of his teeth against Sirius’ lip. “You know that’s only for you.”

Sirius tucked his face against Remus’ neck and held him close. “Mine or yours tonight?”

Remus thought for a moment, heart speeding up. He carded his fingers through Sirius’ hair and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Mine. I’ll cook.”

And I’ll tell you I love you, he didn’t add.

The plane ride felt quick, and Remus had slept the entire time. He was groggy as they stumbled off the plane. He caught Sirius staring at him as they exited into a waiting area. Sirius smiled at him, warm and soft. It filled Remus up to the brim.

I love you.

It had been playing like a record on the plane, even as he slept. He dreamed in I love you’s, now, he lived and walked in them. He needed to say it. He thought of Finn and Logan. He needed to say it. He would say it tonight.

Sirius had one AirPod in, and he looked down, still smiling. Remus expected his phone to buzz with a text any second.

Instead, Remus watched Sirius’ entire posture change. He stiffened. He had a funny look on his face, looking down at his phone. It was staring and vacant. With alarm, Remus realized he could see Sirius’ hand shaking. He took one step forward, and then Sirius looked up. His eyes, even from across the room, were completely blank, cold. They stopped Remus in his tracks. It was identical, perfectly identical, to Sirius’ first years on The Lions. That stare was Sirius looking through layers and layers of walls, of brick and cobwebs and years of being torn down. What Remus didn’t know, was what had sprung them up so fucking quickly. Just hours ago, Sirius had been smiling and kissing his neck. Now, he was looking at Remus like he didn’t know who he was. Before, years ago, Remus hadn’t known Sirius well enough to realize that look for what it was.

Now, he knew Sirius looked afraid.

“Whoa,” he heard from behind him, and turned. Finn was staring at him wide-eyed. Logan was staring at Sirius, eyes even bigger. James was staring at Sirius, expression unreadable. They all had their phones in their hands.

Remus reached for his own phone, nearly dropping it. No emails. No texts. Remus’ hands were shaking, too, now. He had a feeling in his stomach.

Twitter. Trending.

Remus swayed, hand reaching out for something to grab onto and finding one of the flimsy, belt, line dividers. He felt his entire body heat up, then go ice cold.

#SiriusBlackGay.

It was worse when he clicked on it.

Captions. Horrible, horrible, captions. He didn’t even see if there were any supporting messages. All he could see were question marks, and capital letters. Slurs.

Burning this jersey, one said.

#notmycaptain.

And the pictures.

They were dark, but they were clear. Taken through Sirius’ car window, in Remus’ parking garage. On New Year’s eve. Remus was on Sirius’ lap. They were kissing in one, and in another, Remus was kissing Sirius’ neck, Sirius’ face tilted up, eyes closed. They were perfectly recognizable with their hats off, with the streetlight filtering in.

#CaptainBottom the tweet read.

Remus felt sick. He pressed a hand to his throat. He couldn’t breathe.

Sirius.

Remus looked up when someone said Sirius’ name, quietly. It was Pascal. He was the only member of the team to approach their captain, the others still frozen or shuffling with shock. Remus watched as Pascal reached out a hand. He watched as Sirius fell a step backwards.

“Sirius,” Pascal said again, followed by French that was too low for Remus to hear.

Not even Sirius seemed to hear. Remus watched his throat work around a swallow. Remus silently begged Sirius to look at him. But he didn’t.

Instead, Sirius turned on his heel and walked out of the airport, automatic doors opening before him, and then sealing shut. Sirius disappeared as the light’s reflection took over the glass. Remus found himself staring at his own, murky reflection, smaller and behind Pascal’s, who still had his hand out.

Remus couldn’t look away from the whites of his own terrified eyes. His hand closed more tightly around his throat. He couldn’t think.

Vaguely, he registered James walking slowly up to him. He stood there, shown in the door’s reflection for a long moment, and then Remus watched his hand reach out and gently hold Remus’ shoulder.

“Can I drive you home?” James said softly.

Remus stared ahead, eyes unseeing. James gently took his phone out of his hand and clicked it off, slipping it into his own pocket. He wrapped his arm more firmly around Remus’ shoulders.

“Come on, Re. Let me—let me be here for you.”

“He needs you,” Remus choked out. They both knew who he meant.

“I’m going there next,” James started walking them forward. “Lily’s going to you. She’ll meet you at your apartment, okay?”

That made Remus’ eyes fill. He blinked away the wetness, and it dripped down his cheeks.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay, babe,” James said and squeezed his shoulders.

They followed where Sirius had been, out the doors and into the freezing night.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 12

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Lila’s starting to fall, amazing what saving your classmates lives can do for their opinion of you

First < Previous > Next

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Marinette furiously scrunches up another failed sketch. Using her non dominant hand to start another design. It's a good thing she doesn't have any upcoming commissions because of the tour. Even so the distraction, no matter how infuriating, beats watching Marion's ragged breaths.

Tikki is resting on his chest, something they had learnt helps them heal faster. This meant that Plagg was forced to sulk in the corner. Pretending to enjoy the cheese, sneaking worried looks at his holder.

“Marinette look!” Tikki squeaks, as she throws another sketch away.

Marion eyelids start to flutter, Marinette leans over him, sketchbook hitting the ground. He opens his eyes and groans before rolling to his side, followed by a hiss of pain.

“Stay still you stupid cat!” Marinette gently but firmly forces him to sit back.

“Not stupid,” Marion sleepily slurs, sinking into the hospital bed.

“Reckless then,” Marinette schools the smile off her face as Plagg zips over to him.

“No I’m not,” He glares with sudden clarity, “Day?”

She rolls her eyes standing to open the curtains.

“Why yes it is,” Marinette smirks as he cringes at the light.

“What day?” His cringe turns back to a glare, completely unintimidating with the small Kwami curled against him.

“Don’t worry, they put you under for the night, for your system to work out all the fear toxin,” Marinette closes the curtains slightly, coming to sit on the chair next to him.

“Akuma?” Marion tries to bring his hands up to pet Plagg,

“Nope, I finally got some rest without you,” Plagg huffs, not moving away from Marion's touch.

“Arm?” Marion turns to Marinette, still smothering Plagg.

“Fine, it’s probably mostly healed, clean break,” That was probably stretching it, but it doesn't make much difference.

“Scarecrow?” Marion's expression turns dark.

“Prison,” Marinette probably mirrors his expression.

“... anything else I need to know?” He asks, shifting a little higher.

“Still and idiot,” Marinette picks her sketchbook back up, smoothing out the pages.

“Well it's great to see you accepting your-”

“Marion! You're awake!” Aunt Selina is standing in the doorway, she covers the distance in the blink of an eye. Almost as fast as their Kwami’s manage to hide.

“-fault,” Marion glares over their Aunts shoulder at Marinette.

“What was that?” Selina leans back, a slight smirk.

“Nothing,” Marion doesn’t stop giving the stink eye.

“Are you ok?” Their Aunt asks, checking Marion over.

“Yeah I feel fine,” Marion pushes her away gently, but it’s enough for her to lean back. Looking over him with a more cool expression.

“Hmm… I suppose bullet proof armour under your clothes would lessen the damage,” She says casually.

“Well yeah obvious-” Marion starts, stopping as they both realise at the same time;

“It’s a fashion statement!”

“This is Gotham?”

Their Aunt raises a brow. Their panic, wide eyes and wild gestures obviously painting the picture of innocence.

“Alright then, I won't press, already told the doctors your parents are just paranoid,” She leans back on her arms propping her up on Marion’s bed.

“Maman! Papa! Are they-”

“It’s fine, I called them,” Selina holds up a hand to calm his outburst, “Convinced them not to ship you back to Paris, told them they had nothing to worry about,”

“Unfortunately that is a lie,” Bruce Wayne walks in, a pensive frown aimed at his fiance's casual shrug.

“Hello Mr Wayne,” Marinette greets formally, standing.

“Bruce, please, how are you two feeling?” He gestures Marinette to sit back down, standing by her chair.

“A-ok” Marion gives the thumbs up, far too quickly for someone with broken ribs, “Ow,”

“Don’t worry I checked with the doctors there's no brain damage this is just unfortunately how he usually is,” Marinette deadpans, hoping to ease his worry.

“I must apologise, I didn’t expect these rumours to get so out of hand,” Bruce's expression is twisted with guilt, as Marion slowly brings his arms back down.

“It’s not your fault, kind of strange they took that risk for a rumour,” Marion shrugs, not unlike how their Aunt did, who is now forcing him to lie back down.

“Not really considering you basically confirmed it,” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“I did no such thing,” Marion gasps dramatically as if she insulted his very honour. Something, in her opinion, he gave up a long time ago to make puns.

“Here,” Marinette brings out her phone, pulling up a clip from the previous morning. Fast forwarding to the part where Marion tells the camera; “Bruce Wayne is our Father,”

“Oh,” Marion blinks at the screen a few times before turning to Bruce, “I’d like the record to state that was taken out of context,”

“Doesn’t matter to the press, their vultures, the attack is all they care to talk about,” Aunt Selina spits venomously, eyes honing in on Marinette's cast.

“I’ve held off on making an official statement without your approval,” Bruce informs, undercurrents of anger almost undetectable, “If you’d like I can organise our lawyers to come visit you here,”

“Thank you, that would be great,” Marinette beams, taking him aback, “Or um, not great, but-uh… appreciated- yeah that,”

“I’ll send them over whenever suits you,” Bruce gives a slight smile back, making hers beam brighter.

“Thanks, wait a minute- how long am I going to be in the hospital!” Marion whips around to Marinette.

“Hopefully long enough to stay out of trouble,” Selina ruffles his hair, not that it makes much difference at this point.

“My whole life!?” Marion shouts, only half joking.

“Not if you don’t keep running into dangerous situations,” Selina retorts, booping his nose.

“Technically this one came running at me,” Marion grouches, entering a staring contest with their Aunt.

“Ah-ha,” She mocks, meeting his challenge, as always, winning.

“Sooo- what's everyone been doing,” Marion turns to Marinette, eyes only slightly watery.

“I basically had to push Kagami out of the hospital this morning to go on todays tour,” Marinette smiles, willing to give Marion this out, “Chloe texted me a bit ago saying they were heading here,”

“They’re going to kill me for almost getting killed, aren't they,” Marion whines, Marinette is sure he catches Bruce’s flinch.

“Yep,”

“Make sure my gravestone says ‘living it up’,” Marion says as seriously as, well, death.

“I’d rather throw your body in the river,” Marinette inspects her nails, leaning back in her seat.

“If I go missing tell Batman she's the primes suspect,” Marion turns to their Aunt, not learning his lesson, and pointing at Marinette with a hiss of pain.

“I will,” Selina chuckles, and Marinette swears she sees Bruce's lips quirk.

“Mari!” Chloe runs through the door in a blonde blur, which splits, and oh that's Adrien. Both basically tackle Marion.

“Ow! No! That is the opposite of making me feel better,” Marion curses, both latching on either side.

“Deal with it I saved your ass,” Chloe snaps, Marinette sees her grip loosen slightly.

“I thought that was Kagami?” Marion looks over at her, Kagami was standing inside the room, behind her waiting at the door stood the rest of the class, “Or at least a Yokai that looked like her,”

“Pssh, I helped too, I was Queen Bee after all,” Chloe sits up, flicking her hair out.

“Yeah with the train-” Marinette begins.

“Enough about the train!” Chloe explodes, releasing Marion.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” Their Aunt stands, leaning over Marion and giving his forehead kiss, “I love you two so much, be good my little adorable munchkins! I’ll be back later”

“I wuv you sooooo much too Aunty,” Marion teases her right back in an overly cutesy voice.

“You’re no fun,” She sighs, smirk still firmly in place, “See ya,”

She and Bruce walk out the door, class making way for them.

“You are sure you are quite alright,” Kagami comes to stand by the head of the bed, opposite side to Marinette.

“Yes Kags I’m fine,” Marion smiles brightly, still being smothered by Adrien.

“Good,” She hits him over the head, making him yelp, “That was well deserved,”

“Yeah, probably,” Marion grumbles, hand instinctively raising to his head, followed by a grimace.

“Come on Kagami he’s already been hurt enough,” Adrien frets over Marion, letting him go.

“Thank you Adrien! My one true friend! In my time of need, you're always there for me!” Marion bring his arms around Adrien, smothering the other.

“I fought Scarecrow for you!” Chloe roars, Adrien not trying to get free from Marion.

“Adrien was moral support,” Marion pouts, hugging him closer.

“You’re impossible,” Chloe throws her hands up, falling back on the bed.

“Why thank you,” Marion does a mock bow as much as he is able.

Someone clears their throat, Marinette looking over at the door. The rest of the class were still standing at the door. Alix holding up a bag of chips, awkwardly waving. Everyone else also holding some sort of snack, minus Lila. Marinette glances at Marion, who just shrugs, releasing Adrien.

“You can come in, but it might be a bit squished,” Marinette smiles amicably.

“That's fine, dude,” Nino smiles back, ushering the class inside.

The class all take their seats, most having to perch on armrests or the edge of the bed. Each dropping snacks at the foot of it.

“I meant what I said and won't take it back, we aren’t friends,” Marion fixes those in the class that apply with a stern look.

Marinette could tell he wasn't angry, but a few snacks was not enough to mend the bridges burnt. Marion won’t let them forget that. The class shifts awkwardly, sharing glances. What do you say to that?

“Then why did you protect us?” Kim speaks up, apparently that.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Marion fixes them with an intense gaze, making it clear he meant every word. Alix clears her throat.

“Well then this is a meeting as a class, and a thanks for saving our butts, both of you,” Alix gives a smile from her perch on the bed railing.

“Alright then,” Marion says seriously, before taking on a joking tone, “Mostly cause I just realised I haven't eaten anything since that horrible cereal yesterday,”

“Hey!” Adrien exclaims, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Marion, Chloe squeezed in on Marion's other side. Both leaning off the edge slightly to not put pressure on his ribs.

“Sorry Adrien, but your taste buds have the intelligence of a two year old mistaking pure sugar as an actually good taste,” Marion sneers, as if he can still taste it.

“You’re a bakery snob, you know that?” Adrien grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking down further.

“Sure do,” Marion teases, the rest of the class shifting uncomfortably.

Marinette had to guess they didn’t realise just how far they had drifted apart, the divide now startlingly clear.

“Well hopefully these please your majesties pallet,” Nathaniel tries to break into the banter.

Marion playfully sneers down at the pile, getting a few giggles. Alix starts throwing snacks to everyone. Giving Marinette a bag of cookies, she can’t help but smile, especially at Marion's downright insulted look as he’s passed a wheel of camembert.

“Such peasant food,” He tries to offload the cheese on Adrien, who practically falls off the bed to avoid it.

“That's ok, Lila said she was bringing a specially prepared dish by the top chef of the most popular restaurant in Gotham,” Rose squeals excitedly, unintentionally running both their moods.

“I did but just outside the hospital was a poor, sick, homeless man, he begged me for any food I had," translated from Lila speak roughly means; I ate it, "I thought Marion would understand that some people actually needed food enough to not turn the nose up at anything,”

The class gives their assurance and praise. Marion's eyes narrow, unwrapping the cheese and just straight up taking a bite. Marinette spots Plagg being held back by Klakki and Tikki, hiding behind their bags. He chews on it bitterly downright glaring at Lila.

“Dude you were totally badass!” Nino breaks into Marion's brooding.

“Was I? Everything's kinda a blur, especially after the fear toxin,” Marion directs Nino's attention elsewhere, dropping the wheel of cheese off the edge of the bed, into Plaggs waiting arms.

“You were so cool, it was all bam! and swoop!” Kim stands up, badly reenacting punching the air.

“Ah yes, that clears it up, thank you,” Marion says sarcastically, letting Adrien pass him a bag of chips to drown out the taste of camembert.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Alix leans forward, interest sparking in her eyes.

“Ah- Maman taught us of course,” Marinette answers, it was sort of true.

“She can be scary,” Kim shivers, having a selection of memories to choose from.

“Bring her to Gotham, we wouldn’t have problems like this anymore,” Nino lightly pouches Adrien's shoulder in place of Marion, leaning against the wall next to them.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was Ladybug,” Chloe muses, well they were both people she truly respected.

“Haha… yeah,” Marinette sweat drops, trying(and failing) to look unfazed.

“I have to say,” No you really don’t Lila, “I was surprised to see you two fight, you usually just up and run away whenever there's an Akuma attack, I guess you had no choice but to act brave this time,”

“They’ve helped out plenty of times during Akuma attacks,” Nino looks puzzled, oblivious to Lila's glowering.

“Yeah didn’t we tell you about how Marinette became class president?” Mylene asks, eating a snack that was probably organic contrast to the sugary monstrosities before them.

“Oh of course, but if they could fight this well all this time then they should be helping Ladybug and Chat Noir, god knows they need it,” Lila’s malice hinting at her own mention of the heroes.

“Nah, the dudes can handle themselves, it’s better not to get in their way,” Nino shrugs, hitting himself in the face with a snack he was trying to catch.

“Well unless they ask,” No one else catches the moment realisation(scheming) crosses Lila’s face “And I know for a fact Ladybug did,”

“Really!” Alya turns to Lila before whirling around to Marinette.

“Um, yeah! Ladybug once asked me to be Multimouse, to help beat Kwami buster,” Marinette answers before Alya can take out her phone.

“That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me!” Alya’s enthusiasm is not nearly as potent as Lila’s malice.

“Because she asked me not to tell, but if Lila is going to tell everyone anyway there isn’t much point,” Marinette shrugs, her brother hiding a grin, Lila started this war but she could win this battle. “Marion saw me detransform so Ladybug can’t give me a miraculous ever again,”

“Well no wonder she chose you, you were so brave and cool, you were beating Scarecrow with a broken arm, even before Batman showed up!” Nathaniel speaks up, always the fan of superheroes.

“Didn’t he seem rather mad at you?” Lila asks(not so) innocently. ‘Wow she's really giving this her all’ Marinette muses, trying even when they are put in the hospital.

“I think it was likely aimed more at the guy holding us hostage,” Max states like a fact, slightly condescending.

“Of course, but it would have never happened if they didn’t spread the rumour in the first place,” Lila pushes as if they need a reminder.

“Uh, Lila I don’t think they did,” Rose says sweetly, pink frosting somehow ends up on her nose.

“What!” Lila snaps, making poor Rose jump, and others look surprised.

“Well they said they didn't, and Marinette's really smart,” Juleka mumbles, glaring at Lila.

“Hey!” Marion exclaims, getting a giggle from Rose.

“And Marion!” Juleka quickly amends.

“Now you just sound insincere,” Marion slouches down, sniffing theatrically. Juleka relaxes as Chloe teasingly patronises him in her own loving way.

“Something like that is really dangerous,” Mylene tells Lila gently. As if trying to explain to a child what they did wrong.

“No one would wish it on themselves,” Ivan backs up his girlfriend. Lila clearly looking for an opening to try and gain the advantage back.

“Marion almost died,” Kim says bluntly, honestly.

There is a long silence. They were all thinking it but none dared speak it. Even Lila lets the silence loom, nothing she could say would make them look worse and her better.

“So… what did you all do today?” Marinette tries to cut the uneasy silence.

“We went to the city library,” She of course knew that.

“That reminds me, I got out some books I thought you’d like, since your stuck in bed and everything,” Nino passes a book to each twin.

“Thanks,” Marion lets Adrien take the book for him, leaning over to look at the cover Marinette couldn’t see.

“Oh actually I did too!” Rose reaches into her pink bag.

“Me too,” Alix laughs, passing Marinette a history book.

Then everyone else reaches into their bags pulling out more books, giggling sheepishly.

“Oh no, I am going to be here forever aren’t I?” Marion stares in dismay at the accumulated pile, flopping miserably against Adrien.

“We’ll try our best,” Adrien promises, patting his head.

“Selina, do you want to explain to me why your Nephew was able to go toe to toe with Scarecrow, while under fear toxin,” Bruce asks in his, I already know the answer but for some reason I want you to say it, tone. Not even a minute after talking with the doctor.

“Do you want to explain to me how neither you or Robin realised he was under fear of toxin?” She deflects, heels clicking down the halls quickly.

“I believe this circles back to how he can operate under fear toxin,” Bruce growls.

“I don’t know Bruce!” She explodes, more dramatically to get him to drop it, but none the less true, “I taught them a thing or two sure! Some martial arts, parkour, stealing under the guise of magic!”

“What was that last one?” He asks, stopping.

“Not important!” She snaps, continuing on her rant, turning fully towards him, “But I never thought they could do something like that! How and why are they acting like it’s no big deal!”

“Selina, it’s ok,” He pulls her into a hug. She lets her lips curl slightly, that might be the quickest she’s been able to end an argument, short of jumping off a roof. “I’ll find out,”

“... They’re too much like you Bruce,” Selina leans into her fiance's chest, she could swear everyday the children looked more like him.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, obliviously.

“In this case? It's dangerous,” She answers honestly, pausing before stepping back, “I need to call their parents,”

He nods, giving a chaste kiss before leaving her alone in the hall. She sits down, staring down at her phone for a long time.

“Aunt Selina?” Her chest twists painfully.

“Whats up Kitten, where are your friends,” She smiles at her so-called Niece, a word she avoided like the plague. That is to say, she tries but there's always a rat around to ruin everything.

“Oh I told them I had to go to the bathroom,” Marinette's bright smile betraying her.

“But,” Selina prompts as Marinette sits next to her.

“I’m actually celebrating,” She practically squeals.

“Why's that?” She asks, amused and warmed by her daughter's excitement.

“The kingdoms crashing down and the queens still inside,” Marinette says in a sing song voice.

“Should I be worried you sound so joyful?” Not that she actually would be.

“It’s a wicked Queen who abuses her power and makes her subjects miserable,” It’s teasing, but there is nothing artificial about the words.

“Party away,” Selina leans back, flipping her wrist.

“Knew you’d understand,” Marinette hugs her, letting her lean into it.

“I’ll always be here for you Kitten,” Selina brushes the hair out of her daughters face, “Now go, you don’t want to miss the show,”

Her smile is nothing compared to the one plastered on Marinette's face as she bounces away with a small wave. With a sigh Selina leans back, staring down at her phone. It could’ve been minutes, it could of been hours, but she hits call eventually.

“Hey there,” She greets, betraying nothing about the conversation to come. “Just wanted to let you know Marion is awake, just as sassy as usual,”

“Sassy, I just beat you at mecha strike three? Or you started the banter and he’s just matching you,” Tom asks, dusting flour off his hands as Sabine holds the phone.

“Brother dearest, how little do you think of me?” She asks in mock hurt, Tom raises an eyebrow, “Great, thanks,”

“Do you think we can call them?” Sabine asks.

“They’re with their friends right now so I wouldn’t, I think this has been a long time coming,” She thinks back to what Marinette said, the rude girl from their reunion at the Wayne tower coming to mind, “And it's not the only thing... look, I lied,”

“The shock of the century,”

“Tom!” Sabine swats at her husband, from past sparring matches with Sabine she knows she can do a lot worse.

“No, no he’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” She sneers playfully at her brother, getting one in return. She hesitate before sharing, “The twins were actually specifically attacked by Scarecrow,”

“Why!?” They both burst out.

“Because everyone thinks Bruce Wayne is their Father…” Selina cringes at their surprised expressions, which are about to get a lot worse. “And their right,”

“I thought you didn’t know the Father?” Tom asks after a long pause, not accusingly but eerily calm.

“... I lied,” She shrugs, letting the awkwardness she usually keeps leashed leak through. Gina had practically raised them together, he knows how to see right through her better than most.

“This might actually be the shock of the century,” Tom nods, he doesn't seem mad, great thing about him reading her it works both ways.

“... Yeah,” She shrugs, letting the silence hang, long enough for them to process.

“You should tell them,” Sabine declares, so much assurance in such a small woman.

“What!” Selina stands in shock, making jerking gestures, “Sabine that not what I-”

“Hush now, let me speak,” Sabine chides, actually making her pause, “We will always be their parents, but that's only because of you,”

Selina goes to argue, but a stern glare is all the discouragement she needs. Tom is nodding along, of course! They’ve probably discussed this before

“It’s only right that you don’t have to look in pain every time they call you Aunt,” Apparently she was able to read Selina just as well as her husband,  “It’s your choice, but they have enough love in their heart for more than just us,”  

She tries, dammit she tries, but it’s not enough to stop the flood of emotions manifesting in tears.

[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome. 

They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?

As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.

It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.

It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.

“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you. 

The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.

“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house. 

Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.

You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.

“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”

You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.

“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”

“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.

You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.

Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.

“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”

“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind. 

Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”

You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!” 

“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”

Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.

Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!” 

Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.

“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”

In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.” 

You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?” 

“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.” 

He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?” 

“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”

The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.

Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute. 

“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.” 

“And who would I show them if they ask who?”

“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.

“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”

You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.” 

“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”

Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”

Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.” 

“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.” 

“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.” 

“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.” 

“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” 

Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”

And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words. 

“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs. 

You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after. 

Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.

“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.” 

“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.” 

“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.” 

Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”

“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”

Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?” 

“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!” 

“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!” 

“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.” 

The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!” 

“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads. 

“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”

“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.” 

“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.” 

Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!” 

“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you. 

The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!” 

“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!” 

Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!” 

"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.” 

He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin. 

Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.” 

Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.” 

On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”

“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?” 

Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”

And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this. 

You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.

“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.” 

The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options. 

“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.” 

He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions. 

You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too. 

“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?” 

But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.” 

“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”

But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!” 

“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it. 

For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.” 

“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”

“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!” 

Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”

You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.” 

You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.

So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”

Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now. 

“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.” 

You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder. 

“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?” 

“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!” 

“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.” 

“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!” 

You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.” 

He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment. 

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!” 

“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!” 

You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”

But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?” 

You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen. 

Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?” 

“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”

“Ya, but you played along!” 

“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”

“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”

“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.” 

Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don’t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”

He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard. 

When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.” 

Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again. 

“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”

You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”

Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table. 

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!” 

“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.” 

You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.

“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!” 

“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently. 

Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.” 

“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment. 

“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him. 

“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”

“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!” 

You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”

“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”

“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.

“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.” 

“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”

Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.” 

So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.” 

“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.

“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.

“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.

“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you. 

“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.” 

“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.” 

“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.” 

“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.” 

At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!” 

“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!” 

Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.” 

“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”

You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.

That’s probably not good. 

The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.  

“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five. 

“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.” 

“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.” 

He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.” 

Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?” 

“I already did.” 

“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.” 

You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier. 

Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding. 

“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.” 

“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.” 

“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.” 

“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.” 

This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”  

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.” 

“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”

You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?” 

This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.” 

“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!” 

“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car. 

Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?” 

Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.” 

“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.” 

“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.     

“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.” 

At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”

Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home. 

Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents. 

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

tag: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff​

[bonniebird]

A version of home

Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader (Not sure about the pairing yet)

AN: This is 100% a self-indulgent comfort fic I started for myself xD

Masterlist

“Bobby? Is everything ok?” Sam asked as he answered his phone. Dean frowned and glanced at his brother as he drove. There was a long silence as Sam listened to Bobby and Dean clicked his tongue impatiently as he waited for Sam to say something, anxiety bubbled bitterly in the pit of his stomach as Sam hummed a few times. He hated waiting for an update. 

The last he heard from Bobby, when he’d called that morning, everything was fine. He hadn't expected to hear from Bobby again, seeing as they were on their way to his house.

“Urm… yeah… let me check the map. We shouldn’t be too far from there. If you give me the address we can get there this afternoon.” Sam said as he started fumbling in the glove box for a pen and paper.

“Whats going on?” Dean asked quickly. He glanced quickly at Sam who frowned, a pen hanging from his mouth, as he dug into the back of the glove box and pulled a scrap of paper out.

“Just take the next left instead of going the back way to Bobby’s.” Sam said as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear, scribbling something on the paper. “Ok, we’re heading onto route ninety now.”

“So? What’s going on?” Dean asked as he sped up, watching Sam hang up and trace the route he’d set on the map. Dean’s tone was short and pensive, he was starting to worry but when he glanced at Sam again his expression made it easier for Dean to take a breath.

“Bobby needs us to pick something up from Presho, it’s only two and a half hours from Bobby’s. It looks like if we go this way we should pretty much pass right through.” Sam explained as he fumbled with one of the maps that he’d fished out of the glove compartment.

“Great, we’ll still make it in time for dinner. Apparently Bobby saved one of his neighbours and they dropped round apple crumble. It’s almost as good as apple pie!”

The drive to Presho didn’t take too long, the roads were clear and Dean sped along, able to zone out a little as the music blared. Sam had fallen asleep a good two hours before but as Dean pulled up outside of the motel Bobby had sent them to he emergency breaked which jerked Sam awake.

“Dean! Dude, come on.” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his face and looked around.

“Well we’re here. What was it that Bobby wanted you to get? I’m assuming some old books or something.”

“He didn’t really say. I figured that the address was for a library or a house. You’re sure this is right?” Sam asked as he glanced at the ordinary looking motel Dean had parked in front of.

They both stared up at the old building. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot and the E in the motel flickered every now and then. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that it was starting to get dark. A couple started walking over to the car and Sam pointed out that they could have something for Bobby, as they were holding a book shaped parcel wrapped up. The couple passed by as the back door of the Impala opened.

“Yes, Bobby. I see the old car. I’m getting in it now. I have all of my stuff! Bobby. I shipped the rest of my stuff to you last week.” You said as you slammed the car door shut. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment, Sam mouth Bobby’s name to Dean who shrugged. “Bobby it’s bad enough you won't let me stay out here by myself… It is not my fault that the werewolf totaled my car! I’m not careless, I'm just fast… Which sometimes appears to be careless.”

“Urm. Hey, I’m Dean… are we supposed to drop you off at Bobby’s or..?” Dean started as he turned in his seat. You’d already made yourself at home, feet up on the back seat as you sprawled over, your bags shoved in the footwell.

“Bobby wants to talk to the Idjits?” You said as you leant forwards between the front seats and Sam hurriedly took the phone. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).” You said and smiled at Dean who gave you a dubious smile.

“Oh, no everything is good Bobby.” Sam said as he hung up and handed back your phone. “Bobby might have told me that we were picking someone up. I was distracted when I was looking for the map.” Sam confessed. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you sit in your seat… and don’t put your shoes up on my damn seats! I just cleaned them.” Dean complained as he started backing out of the motel parking lot. You gave him a challenging look before nodding, deciding to eat a snack so obnoxiously loud that it was hard for Dean to hide that he was irritated by the mess you were making, Sam was having a hard time not laughing at Dean. He got the impression you were going to give them, and Bobby a run for your money when it came to go along with what Bobby wanted.

******************

“You boys are late.” Bobby called out as he hung up his latest call and started heading into the kitchen through the back entrance. Dean had hurried through the door first and dumped his duffle bag by the back door.

“Yeah, well. Next time you want me to pick someone up, call a taxi!” Dean said irritably as he rummaged in the fridge for a beer.

“(Y/N) being a pain?” Bobby asked and Dean grunted out a response as he headed to the living room.

“Dean doesn’t like it when people put dirty shoes on his seats.” Sam said as he lugged in several bags that Bobby knew were definitely yours. You’d been unhappy that he’d insisted that you came to stay with him for a while. At least you eventually agreed. You came in a few moments later with just two bags that looked rather light.

“Jeez Bobby! You harpe at me for being unorganised. Look at this place. You’d double the floor space if you put up a bookshelf.” You said as soon as you followed Sam into the living room.

“If you want it any other way then you can get to it yourself.” Bobby joked as he started dishing up the food one of his neighbours had sent over. She’d been doing it a lot since he’d saved her from whatever it had been he saved her from last month. Honestly hunts seemed to bleed into one and he was happy that he could spend a little time not thinking about it, even if it meant sitting in front of the tv with his dinner and the boys taking up the space on his sofa.

“Is every room in the house like this? No wonder you take so long getting back to the hunters that call you.” You said with a cheeky tone he tutted as he shook his head.

“You have a room and you’re getting free food. You don’t like it…”

“I can go somewhere else! Great, thanks Bobby. I’ll pass the message along to Ellen.” You said cheerfully as Bobby handed you a plate of food. You took up one of the armchairs at the edge of the room, starting to tuck into the meal. Honestly you could’t remember the last time you hadn’t just grabbed fast food.

“Whose Ellen?” Sam asked curiously as he shoved Dean with his foot as he settled into one side of the sofa.

“She runs the hunter bar up in Nebraska.” You answered casually before looking over at Bobby and adding. “I thought you said these two were hunters?”

“They are. Their dad, John, hunted with your parents.” Bobby answered. Sam and Dean glanced at each other when you didn’t say anything for a long while and the mood seemed to plummet abruptly.

“Thanks for letting me stay Bobby.” You said quietly after several minutes. Bobby nodded and grunted something gruffly as he kept his attention on the tv.

**********************

“So that was weird right?” Dean asked as he fidgeted on the air mattress Bobby had put out for him. Normally he and Sam would have gotten to take turns in the spare bedroom that had started becoming infected with more and more books over the years. The room was yours now which meant the five games of rock paper scissors before driving down was a waste of time.

“I guess. I asked Bobby and he said that (Y/N)’s parents were killed on a hunt two years ago. He promised to look after (Y/N) they’ve been getting more and more careless apparently Rufus happened to find their car totalled and a werewolf nearly got them. (Y/N) was lucky Rufus had even picked up the case. That was the last straw for Bobby.” Sam said as he rolled over on the sofa. He was regretting calling dibs on the sofa now, seeing as he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Well that sucks. Hunting alone is pretty hard. I guess it’s good that Bobby’s looking out for them.” Dean said as he finally found a comfortable spot.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Bobby said we could stay until the next case or when we feel like we need to get going, apparently a bunch of demon activity has kicked up all over.” Sam said through a yawn as he turned on his side. He could just make out Dean in the dark, who must have fallen asleep, sprawled on his stomach.

The smell of fresh coffee woke Dean hours later. It was pretty light outside so he must have slept in. He could hear Sam and Bobby talking and laughing in the kitchen. “Morning.” He grumbled as he shuffled into the room. He took a seat next to you. After a quick glance he realised you were barely awake, curled up on one of the wooden dining chairs with your chin propped on your knee as you lazily shoved food into your mouth.

“I think I found a case not too far away. Only thirty minutes. I might go and check it out if you boys are up for it?” Bobby offered as he set a plate in front of Dean.

“I need to get those parts into the Impala but maybe Sammy will go with you?” Dean offered as he shoved a mouthful of pancake and bacon into his mouth.

“Sam! And yes, I can go with you. But Dean really needs to sort the car. If he hears that imaginary rattling again, he’ll go crazy.” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s not imaginary Sam! I hear it when we change gears and…”

“Maybe if you didn’t drive so fast it wouldn’t squeak.” Sam said playfully as he set his dishes in the sink. “You want to tag along, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m going to sort the stuff in my room. Bunch of guns and some books. All my stuff is still boxed up.” You said through a yawn as you handed Bobby your empty plate.

“Well hey, if you want some help with the books before we get going, I can give you a hand?” Sam offered. Dean shot him a suspicious look and Sam shrugged. 

“Sure I guess. I can’t even read some of the titles.” You answered while standing up and stretching.

“So what’s the deal with them?” Dean asked as soon as you’d left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

“(Y/N) lost their whole family.” Bobby explained briskly.

“Yeah, Sammy said. But the attitude?” Dean asked irritably and Bobby sighed.

“(Y/N)’s parents were good hunters, found a lot of stuff that’s helped a lot of hunters. The only person that they didn’t get one with was John after they had a falling out. Didn’t like how he was raising you two so they walked away. They only died two years ago, their grandparents were hunters and they had taken (Y/N) in for a year. They’re gone too. Went to stay with an uncle and. It’s just (Y/N). It’s not like hunters set up playdates for their kids. (Y/N) just has me and Rufus now.” Bobby explained bluntly. Dean sighed and frowned.

“Nice to know you weren’t the only one trying to get me to play baseball.” Dean muttered as he downed his water and left the table to head out to the Impala.

“It’s great that you took (Y/N) in Bobby. We appreciated it, when you did it for us.” Sam said awkwardly. Bobby nodded and muttered something under his breath.

******************

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked as he knocked on your door. You opened it and Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, the book problem had gotten worse.”

“Yeah, hasn’t it. This room used to be nearly empty when it came to books.” You answered as you let him in. He chuckled as you led him to the largest pile of books that was more a wall than a pile. “You think you could help me move these downstairs. I figured I can organise the books and learn the phones for Bobby, since he’s taking me in.”

“Yeah. I can totally help you with that!” Sam said a little too eagerly. He winced. Bobby seemed to hope that you would hit it off with him and Dean. Sam knew what you were going through and had wanted to try and help, even if it was just hanging around with you. Bobby was right, even when he was hunting with Dean, hunting could get lonely. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have lost so much so quickly.

“Maybe if we just start with taking all the books to the living room, we could organise them by the area that the lore comes from… maybe?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam said and you smiled, nodding as the two of you started shifting books. By the time half of the books had been moved, you were opening up to Sama  little more. Swapping hunt stories seemed to be the ticket to getting you to talk. Once he’d cracked you, it didn’t stop.

“Sam you ready?” Bobby asked as you and Sam carried down another load of books. He glanced at you and you nodded.

“I’m good. Sam figured a way to categorize so I should be able to finish sorting the books in my room by myself.” You insisted and smiled at Bobby who looked a bit relieved that you’d taken to Sam.

“Dean will be here manning the phones, looks like it should be a quick hunt, a day or too.” Bobby explained and you nodded.

“You can call if you need us.” You answered cheerfully as you playfully punched Sam’s arm before turning back to the latest, muddled, pile of books.

[janesramblings]

Jealous

this one was requested by @stormofsansas and I had so much fun writing it, thanks for the request!

“Did you hear about Ace’s supposed girlfriend?” Bess asks me as I close the front door of my house and burrow into my coat. It’s only November, but Maine gets cold surprisingly fast. 

“Have I what?” I ask as I unlock my car and slide into the driver’s seat. Bess slept over last night, helping me figure out something vaguely Marvin-related. 

“Heard about Ace’s girlfriend?” I shake my head. “Yeah she showed up on your day off. Ace seemed really smitten.”

“Who says ‘smitten’ anymore?” I ask as I turn the key in the ignition. The car revs and then stops. I turn the key again with the same result. 

“Who drives ancient convertibles anymore?” Bess counters as I sigh and pitch forward against my steering wheel. “Sorry, that was mean,” Bess says. “I get like this when I eat raw pancakes.”

“Was that supposed to be an apology?” I ask as I sit up. Bess finds it hilarious that I work at The Claw and can’t cook. 

“Sort of. Hang on let’s see if we can call Ace and get a ride.”

“Sure. Maybe we can learn about his girlfriend.”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess corrects as she brings her phone to her ear. 

While Bess tries to get Ace to drive us to work, I try to figure out who would date Ace. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with Ace. I mean he’s kind, has great quips, and is incredibly handsome. There’s no denying that. And his talent for understanding a person is envious. But I just can’t imagine Ace dating someone. 

I mean, there was Laura Tandy. But she was too selfish. She used Ace to get what she wanted, and was willing to leave for Paris instead of staying with him. And then there were those girls who flocked around Ace in high school. I didn’t really pay much attention to Ace back then. He was a grade ahead of me and not particularly popular - he played one sport in his freshman year before he decided it wasn’t for him and the only club he was part of was the coding club because he didn’t like the president and wanted to disrupt it as much as he could - but he was the only one who could answer as many questions as me in my forensics class. I guess high school me was always in awe of him. And even though we’re friends now and I’ve considered him my equal for months, it’s always disconcerting when you find out people you admire are just human. 

Bess’s voice brings me back to myself. “What did you say?” I ask her.

Bess rolls her eyes at me. “I said that Ace is on his way over. And that girl is with him.”

“The girlfriend?”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess repeats emphatically. I shake my head at her.

Twenty minutes later I’m in the back of Ace’s car squished next to Bess, staring at the back of Callie Something-or-other’s preppy blonde head. When Ace pulled into my driveway she bounced out of the car in her three inch stilettos, kissed my cheeks like we were in Paris, and waved her stacks of bracelets as she called me “doll”, “honey”, and “darling”. I’m pretty sure my sinuses will never be the same after having to breathe the fumes from her tacky perfume. The whole time we stood in my driveway she clung to Ace like a life preserver, chocking the poor boy half to death. 

I don’t hate her. I don’t.

“So Nancy darling,” Callie purrs, “I hear you fancy yourself a detective.”

Bess and I share a look. I glace at Ace in the rearview mirror, trying to read his thoughts, but he’s closed off, his eyes dull. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to say it.”

Callie wrinkles her nose at me like I’m a cute child that finally understood the purpose of wearing shoes on their feet and not their hands. “Have you solved any interesting mysteries around here honey? Anything fun in this small town I should know about?” My temper flashes at her overly-sweet tone. I can feel Bess nudge my elbow as a warning, but I ignore her. 

“Well, I did solve the mystery of the girl who fell off the bluffs after the Sea Queen ceremony nineteen years ago.”

“Oh great, she said it,” Bess mutters. 

Callie gives me a breathless “ohh” but her eyes are as dead as Ace’s. “What happened to her?”

“Oh she was slut shamed by the entire town and was pregnant with a baby who actually happened to be me and she jumped from the bluffs after I was born because she didn’t want to live and she came back to haunt my dad and also me so we could solve her mystery, which was also tied to the death of my dad’s wife. Turns out she was killed by my maternal uncle. I caught him to but not before he killed Bess’s cousin.”

Callie stares at me for a moment before squinting her hazel eyes. “You really should send me that video game. It sounds fun!” With that she swings back to face the front and I resist the urge to throw my messenger bag at the back of her head. I try to gauge Ace’s feelings again, but I can’t read him at all. And it’s a little annoying. Okay. More like very annoying. 

I glare at her until Ace pulls up in front of the Claw. I wait for her to get out of the car with Ace, talking a mile a minute (”ooo Ace is this where you work? It’s so cool that Horseshoe Bay has an authentic restaurant. You guys farm salmon or something right?”) before I bury my head in my hands with a groan. Bess starts laughing.

“What?” I snap.

“Your life would make a good video game.”

I reach over Bess, open her door, and unbuckle her seatbelt. “Get out,” I say only half jokingly. Bess’s smile drops and she puts an arm around me, pulling me into her. 

“It’s okay to be jealous. You like Ace and up until today, I thought he like you too.” I sit back up.

“I’m not jealous!” I say indignantly. Bess raises her eyebrows silently. “I’m not!” I repeat, sitting up. I’m not jealous of Callie.

At all.

“Alright. If you say so. You know your feelings best. But do come in sometime this century. You might have saved our lives, but George still expects you to work.”

“I know, I know I’m coming.” Bess leaves, giving me a minute to shout into my hands before climbing out of the car, crossing the parking lot, and pushing thorough the front door of the Claw. George runs to me when she sees me.

“Have you met this walking Barbie doll?” she whispers.

“Unfortunately,” I respond. George rolls her eyes.

“Serve her would you? She’s giving me a migraine. You’d think Ace would date someone with sense. Kinda like you.”

“Kinda?” I ask, amused despite my annoyance.

“Well, you don’t always have sense.”

“And here I was thinking you wanted my help.”

“Just serve her, Drew.”

“Do you want me to change?”

“Just go before she asks me for help,” George says dangerously. I do as I’m told. I pull off my coat and grab a menu before walking towards Callie, who’s at a table examining her nails. She grins when she looks up at me.

“Hi! You’re my waitress?”

“Seems so,” I say. 

Callie grins. “Well, since you like mysteries as much as I do, why don’t you surprise me? Talk to Ace, I’m sure he knows what I’d like.”

Okay, okay we get it. You know Ace. I force a smile and take back the menu. “Sounds great.” I turn on my heel and march towards the kitchen. “Your guest wants a surprise Ace. I’m gonna change. I’ll serve it when it’s ready.”

Ace looks up from the bowl he’s washing, startled. At least that’s one emotion I can read. “Okay.” I nod at him and stalk off. “And hey, Nance?”

“Yeah?” I say shortly, stepping back towards the sink. 

“Never mind.”

“Great.” I march off again, and change into my uniform with shaking hands. I have no idea why this girl gets under my skin but she does. Ace stops me on my way back to the tables. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he just shoves a plate of salad and fries at me. “Thanks,” I say, my tone softening as I meet his eyes. I can never stay mad at him. He smiles back at me, and my heart does that weird butterfly on steroids thing it’s been doing lately.

I walk towards Callie’s table and put the plate in front of her. “Oh look, Ace got it right! Did you know that the first time Ace and I went out in sophomore year of high school he guessed my dinner choice and he was right then. Just like he is now.”

“That’s great,” I say as a surge of... something rushes through me. “I gotta go.”

I turn as the tears start to fall. “Nance are you-” I ignore Bess’s question as I race for the lockers. Of course I’d ignore my feelings for Ace until the moment I have no chance with him. Because I’m incapable of any relationship with anyone. Not with Nick. Not with Owen. Not with any of my parents. Why would my relationship with Ace be any different? I crash into someone as I pass the kitchen, but I keep going without apologizing until someone’s hand is on my waist, stopping me. 

“Nancy are you okay?” I look up to see Ace looking down at me. 

“No Ace I’m not. So please leave me alone.” I pull out of his grasp. 

“Nancy, Nancy wait. You can’t push me away.”

I spin around, my jealousy replaced with anger. “And you can’t flirt with someone and bump into someone whenever you walk with them and call them brilliant and say you’ve never had a friend like them and then show up in their driveway with your girlfriend Ace! It’s rude to lead people on. So don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Ace stares at me for a moment. “What girlfriend?”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend Nancy.”

“But Callie said you went out-”

“In sophomore year. Yeah. She’s my mom’s best friend’s kid. We went out once before deciding it wouldn’t work.”

What? “But then why did she flirt with you?”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Because I told her something about you and now she’s sizing you up.”

Oh. “What did you tell her?”

“She asked about my friends. And I said that there’s no one more important to me than you.”

I snort.

“No. Nancy. I mean it.” Ace steps towards me. I look up into his clear blue eyes. They’re not closed off anymore. They’re earnest. And truthful. “I’ve never met a girl who makes me more alive than you Nancy. And year I flirt with you. And bump into you when we walk. And I call you brilliant because it’s true. Because I... like you.” He reaches for one of my hands, and I let him take it. “I have liked you since you told me about failing senior year when I was out smoking. And I like you more every time I see you.”

I stand on my toes. I lose my balance and Ace’s free hand shoots out to grab my waist as I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I like you too Ace.”

He grins at me, his head dipping down towards mine. I stretch up until the space between our lips is gone, and oh god kissing Ace is the best thing in the world. I could stay here in this moment with his hand on my waist and our fingers intertwined forever. But we do break away, however, when someone starts applauding. We turn to see Callie, Bess, George, and Nick (where’d he come from) standing in the door cheering us on. I glance at Ace. 

“Well they’d know eventually,” he says.

“True,” I agree as we both drop into theatrical bows. 

[fleetingpieces]

Everything we were

I know I probably shouldn’t do this cause I’ve only just started posting my neighbour fic, but this is the first Wolfstar fic I’ve ever written and I’ve been thinking about sharing it for months now, soo...here goes nothing I guess

This is a Marauder era fic, it’s a long WIP, but I’m VERY excited about it, I would love to know what you guys think!

Tagging @asthmaticpansexual in case you’re up for the ride this is going to be :D As always, thanks for reading  ❤️

Chapter 1 

The room was completely dark when Remus Lupin suddenly woke up. He hated waking up in the middle of the night, it brought back memories he would certainly like to forget. The faint red light coming from the alarm clock on his desk casted faint shadows, which was the only reason why he could vaguely make out the shapes in his empty room. He breathed out slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

There’s no one there, everything is fine.

He repeated that a few times like a mantra before glancing at the time, that read 10.30 pm in glowing numbers. There was only one hour and a half left of his eleventh birthday.

The feeling of disappointment was mild. He had already cried about it to his mum before he had gone to bed, and his dad had prepared him for this possibility for years, so he told himself he had been stupid for waiting for that letter anyway. That morning, when he had woken up to both his parents wishing him a happy birthday, he had tried very hard not to show them how much he was looking forward to checking the mail. But the day had come and gone, and no owls had visited their old cottage. Remus didn’t know much about it, but he was sure if he had been accepted at Hogwarts, he would have received word of it already.

It wasn’t that he really wanted to go to that school. He had already resigned himself to staying at home, given his special circumstances. Anyway, he didn’t need it ‘cause he was home-schooled. His dad had done his best to teach him everything he could about magic, without giving him too many details about his own time at Hogwarts, as it would be too painful. His mum had also taught him a few of the usual muggle subjects. They had been very patient and comforting when he turned five, and they had to explain why he wouldn’t be able to go to any school, wizarding or muggle. They had promised they would do anything to make him feel like he wasn’t missing out on anything.

“My love, we know you would prefer to meet other kids your age, but I promise you we will love you enough to compensate for everything.” His mother had cradled him in her lap, stroking his hair while saying those words with a sad smile on her face. Hope and Lyall had kept that promise, doting on him without restraints.

And Remus was very happy. He told himself he didn’t need more than this, both his parents loved him deeply and gave him everything they could, even with their limited resources. Not that Remus asked for much, he knew the family’s situation and the only thing he needed was company.

So no, Remus didn’t need a stupid letter.

He turned around in bed, preparing himself to sleep again, when he heard the voices. His ears perked up, curiosity getting the better of him, and he pressed his lips trying to listen. His mum and dad’s hushed voices drifted up, but there was another one he didn’t recognize. Remus frowned. Why was there someone at their house at this hour?

Slowly, the small boy crept out of bed and tiptoed to the door, cracking it open a tiny fraction. It sounded like they were in the living room downstairs, but he still couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying. As quietly as he could, he padded bare footed down the stairs, stopping just before the entrance to the room, where a warm fire was blazing.

“How do you know about it Dumbledore?”

Remus held his breath in surprise at the tone in his Dad’s voice. There was anger in it, but also something else, something Remus had only heard from his father on the first days after That Night. Fear. Cold, crippling fear that brought back memories of blood, pain and despair. Remus shook his head to get rid of them.

“Lyall, my old friend, please do not worry.” The stranger’s voice was old, wise and soothing. “I can assure you I have no intention of giving you any trouble at all.”

“But how do you know?! We were so careful, we tried to–”

“I am aware.” The old man interrupted. “Like I said, please don’t worry. As you may know, with the way things are going, I have decided to set a few spies of my own in place. One of them was watching over Greyback.”

Remus heard his parents’ sharp intake of breath, and a small, fearful sob that wobbled out of his Mum. They were quiet for a few seconds, the air in the room seemed to shift and still, forcing Remus to fight the urge to burst in and ask what they were talking about.

“Indeed,” the stranger continued as if answering something Remus’ parents couldn’t say out loud. “He was boasting about what he did and my spy picked up on it. The secret is safe, we will do our best so that no one else finds out. But I thought it would be better to come in personally to deliver this.”

There was a sound of rustling paper and another sob from Hope, this time a surprised one. Silence fell again for a few minutes and Remus was just about to peek around the corner when his dad spoke again.

“Dumbledore…This is more than we could ever hope for…but I am not sure this is the safest path for my son.”

Remus jumped at the last word, a small gasp escaping his lips. Why were they talking about him? There was a beat of stillness in the room as he covered his mouth to remain quiet. He waited until the conversation resumed again before risking a look around the corner, barely half of his face timidly poking out. His parents were sitting together, their backs facing Remus, and in front of them was the most eccentric wizard Remus had ever seen in his short life. He was wearing dark purple robes with golden stars and moons, and a matching hat. White hair and beard went past his shoulders, merging together, almost hiding the knowing smile on his face. He directed that smile at Remus as soon as he had appeared, looking at him straight through his half-moon spectacles with a twinkle in his eyes, making the young boy jump again.

“Well, I am fairly certain Remus would like to have a say in this.”

Hope and Lyall spun around as Remus stood awkwardly at the door, fiddling with his hands and looking sheepish. His mum got up at once, coming to put her hands on his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing down here? You should be sleeping.” She stroked his hair gently.

“I heard voices…” he said, before looking up at the old wizard. “Who is that?”

The man called Dumbledore stood up, coming over to shake his hand. “Happy birthday, Remus. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his heart started beating so fast it felt like a drum inside his little body. “I take it by your expression that you’ve heard of Hogwarts?”

Remus nodded cautiously. “Not much really…but it’s the school where kids learn everything about magic.”

It sounded like a question, and with his words Lyall seemed to come to life again, as he stood up as well. “Now wait a second, Dumbledore. We still haven’t decided anything, you can’t just go to my son and–”

“Lyall, please.” Hope’s voice was soft, but it made his dad stop in his tracks. “Maybe we should listen to what he has to say. We’ve always believed Remus wouldn’t be able to go to school, but if there’s even a slight chance…” Her voice cracked, eyes lined with silver. “I want him to have a normal childhood.”

Lyall looked like he wanted to argue, but he also couldn’t deny Hope something they’d both wanted so much but had deemed impossible. He nodded, defeated. Dumbledore beamed at the boy, gesturing to the seating area.

“Would you fancy a game of gobstones?”

Remus was taken aback but he nodded, dropping gingerly to the floor in front of Dumbledore’s armchair as the old man sat down again. He wasn’t an expert on people but he was weary, the old bloke was just weird. Could this all be a prank? No, his parents wouldn’t allow something so cruel. He eyed every move the man made as he waved his wand to produce a set of stones between them.

“Your mother was just telling me you are very good at studying?”

Remus shrugged, flipping his first stone. “I wouldn’t know…But I like reading. There’s not much else for me to do in the house. Oh, I also like helping Mum when she is cooking.” He looked up at Hope, who smiled affectionately at him. Dumbledore chuckled, before asking casually.

“And how would you feel about coming to study at Hogwarts?”

Remus’ heart doubled in time again. Could this be real? He hadn’t dared believe it until that moment. He thought he’d lost his last hope today about going to wizarding school and all that it implied. Meeting other boys, making friends. He could imagine himself with a wand like the one his dad used, the same one that he sometimes held between his fingers when no one was looking. He could see himself surrounded by kids, learning all sorts of tricks, turning beetles into buttons, making things hover in the air.

Remus didn’t realize how much he was smiling until his cheeks started hurting. He couldn’t believe he would actually be able to do it! All his life, he knew he was different, that he couldn’t be around other people, that...

His mind came to an abrupt halt. He couldn’t let his thoughts go further than that. He felt himself deflate, shoulders slouching and eyes going down to his lap, because surely Dumbledore didn’t know what he really was. He had read, behind his parents backs, a few of the books about dark creatures that his dad had brought home in hopes to find a cure for him. These books were not very nice when depicting him, leaving no doubts as to what wizards thought of his kind. He’d understood long ago that he wasn’t allowed to go to school not only because he was dangerous, but also because everyone would hate him.

“I can’t.” He didn’t miss how miserable his own voice sounded, “I’m not like the other kids. I’m dangerous.”

“Forgive me if I offend you, Mr Lupin, but you don’t look very dangerous to me,” said Dumbledore, smiling kindly at him.

Remus looked angrily to the side when he felt the tears prickling his eyes. He had been so good at not expecting more than what he knew he could have. He had convinced himself time and time again that this was enough, his parents’ love was enough.

It had taken all but one question for him to realize how much he wanted everything he wasn’t allowed to wish for. And it had taken all but a few seconds to destroy that hope, and now he was aching all over. There was no taking that longing back now. He wanted to learn how to make cakes out of thin air for his Mum, he wanted to learn how to defend himself. He didn't want to be helpless ever again, not after That Night. He wanted it. He really wanted to go. His voice sounded strained and desperate when he spoke next.

“You don’t understand. I’m…I’m a monster.”

“That’s not true!” Hope came in to hug him, but Remus scooted away, putting his arms around himself.

“Yes it is! I’m bad and I shouldn’t be around people! I could hurt them!”

He said this last bit looking at Dumbledore, willing him to understand, letting him know he would love to accept his offer, but it was better for everyone else if he didn’t. To his surprise, the old man was still smiling kindly at him, if not a little bit sad.

“Mr Lupin, I know perfectly well that you are a werewolf.”

Everything else froze then. Remus straightened up, surprised not only that the old man knew his secret, but also at his bluntness. Remus himself often tiptoed around the word, not to mention his own father. Dumbledore pushed further.

“But I see no reason why you shouldn’t attend Hogwarts. I am looking at you right now, and you seem like a normal boy to me. A slight setback one night a month should not be enough to keep you from your birthright.”

Remus wanted to laugh and scoff at the words “slight setback”, but weirdly enough they also comforted him. He could feel a sob ripping out of him, the tears that had gathered in his eyes spilling out.

“R-really? Ca-can I really go?”

Dumbledore’s expression softened. “Of course. I came here myself so I could discuss safety measures with your parents, and put them at ease.” He looked up at Hope and Lyall, the game of gobstones completely forgotten. Remus’ parents were standing there, unsure of how to react as Dumbledore suddenly adopted a business-like attitude. “I already have a plan of action, should you choose to accept my offer. I will make arrangements for the full moons, so that Remus can have a safe place to transform. It will be heavily protected with spells, and accessible only through a secret passage from the school grounds, guarded by a Whomping Willow. Madam Pomfrey, our school’s healer, will help young Remus to get there and heal him afterwards if needed.”

Remus dared a look at his parents. Lyall seemed at a loss for words at how fast things were going; Hope clearly didn’t understand everything Dumbledore had just said, but she was smiling brightly nonetheless. Dumbledore arched his eyebrows.

“I can assure you, I will do everything in my power to make sure Remus is safe and has a normal school life. Now Remus,” he looked down at him again, “I am sure you understand, given the prejudice around werewolves, that sadly not everyone will be as accepting, so it’s of the utmost importance to keep all of this a secret. Can you do that?” Remus hurried to nod, and the headmaster addressed his parents once more. “Does this sound like an acceptable plan to you?”

“Yes…yes!” Hope said eagerly, overwhelmed with images of her son surrounded with other kids his age, as he should be. Lyall just nodded, dumbfounded.

“So, Remus, I will ask you once again.” The wizard’s blue eyes were shining brightly when they pierced him, and Remus’ heart was beating like it was trying to run away from his own body. “Would you like to study at Hogwarts?”

Remus couldn’t help the way his face scrunched up with a new stream of tears coming down his cheeks, the sob in his throat that made him hiccough, or the way his chest seemed to expand with unbelievable joy. He almost wailed.

“Yes…Please, I want to go!” His eyesight was blurry, but he could feel his mum and dad kneeling next to him and hugging him, both crying as well. Dumbledore stood up, trying to give the family some privacy.

“Wonderful. Mr Lupin, I gave your letter to your dad. In there you will find everything you’ll need for the school year. I will see myself out.” He headed towards the entrance, stopping only for a few seconds. “I will see you again in a few months, Remus. I have no doubt you will do incredible things at Hogwarts.” He smiled down at the bundled family, and Remus tried to return one of his own through the tears.

“Thank you,” he said fervently.

The three of them stayed on the floor for a while, laughing and enjoying the moment even minutes after Dumbledore had left the house.

“Dad, can I see the letter?”

Lyall reached into his pocket and handed him the envelope that had his name written in green letters. They got up and settled together on the couch while Remus opened the flap, but before he could take out the piece of parchment, his dad put a gentle hand over his.

“Son, there’s something we should discuss first.” Remus’ heart dropped, but his dad smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t say no to this.” He scoffed. “Seems to me that you will probably be more protected at Hogwarts anyway. It has always been your mom and mine’s dream to see you attend Hogwarts, you showed signs of magic from a very young age. However…”

He sighed, frowning. Then he turned so he was facing Remus completely, making sure the boy was looking at him and paying him full attention.

“Other than Dumbledore, you can’t trust anyone. Like he said, werewolves are frowned upon,” he said with a pained expression that Remus wasn’t sure how to interpret. “So whatever happens, you must not let anyone know about this, ok?” Lyall grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him a bit in the process. “I am really, really sorry to have to say this Remus, but you are gonna have to be very careful around the kids at school. I know you want to make friends, but they will not trust you if they find out. You would be putting yourself in danger, we can’t risk that. No one can ever know. No one. Do you understand?”

Lyall looked a little maniac by the end of his speech, the hold on his son was almost painful. He didn’t let go of Remus’ shoulders until the boy nodded slowly and said, “Yes dad, I understand.”

[asteriismos]

hey jude - richie tozier

warning(s) : eighteen! richie tozier, rough smut, degrading terms like slut and bitch, choking, a daddy kink, oral ( male recieving )

authors note : im not saying listen to ‘da ya think im sexy?’ by rod stewart while listening to this but thats exactly what im saying

words : 3.8k

request :

Hey , I was wondering if you could do a smut with 2017 Richie being In an alt couple , with a girl who’s brittish with degrading , rough smut , choking and the almighty daddy kink ❤️

ever since you moved to derry, things have been different for richie. 

the first time you stepped into his math classroom after winter break, teacher claiming that you were the new transfer student, he couldn’t get his mind off of you. you were gorgeous, not like anyone else in the small little town of derry that he’s been living in all his life. if there were anyone there that was half as cool as you seemed, richie would be interested in them. but there wasn’t. you were the breath of fresh air in his life that he didn’t know he needed, and you had only been in the classroom for 3 minutes.

then you spoke. and richie was even more interested in you. 

you had an accent, clearly from the uk, which was explained while you talked a little bit in front of the class as the teacher awkwardly tried to get you to tell them about yourself. your dad was a businessman who was seeing some type of potential in bangor, and fell in love with derry when he drove through it a few months ago. 

now you were here, finishing up your senior year here and going to college in the states. you seemed a little bitter about that to richie, but who was he to judge. he really didn’t like derry himself, he was glad that you only had to stay here for half a year instead of eighteen fucking years. 

the rest of the day he thought of you, though his thoughts skewed a little bit towards lunch, worried about the history pop quiz that people were talking about. history was his eighth period, which led to much anxiety about the end of the day. but after school ended, richie was going to meet up with the rest of the losers outside of the school near the entrance so that they could all go get hot chocolate at stan’s place. early january in derry was so cold that it was almost impossible not to drink a warm beverage every single day. 

he sat outside on the hoods of stanley’s car lighting a cigarette when he looked up, seeing you walking over to the car right beside beverly. bevvie said that she met you in gym class and you two apparently hit it off. 

and the rest was history. you became an official unofficial member of the losers club. bev adored you, the two of you became some kind of punk rock loving duo, and that’s all it took for you to get introduced to the rest of the group.

as said before, it was customary for the entire losers club to go to someones house after school ended and to get some hot drink. winter was soon coming to an end, derry launching further into the cusp of spring every day. the snow was beginning to melt on the ground, trees starting to produce their green leaves, and the sun was shining more and more each day.

“richie, can you come and help with the coffee? jesus, it’s your house!” eddie yelled from the kitchen of the tozier residence. richie was seated on the couch next to you, spewing some nonsense about this girl in your shared math class together and how she apparently bit down on this football players dick the other day trying to give him head.

you laughed, leaning into the couch enough to where the fluffy built in cusions almost enveloped you. “you’re such a liar, tozier,” you said through your laughs, hitting him lightly on the side of the head. richie shook his head, stifling out a chuckle of his own. in his own awful posh british voice impression, he exclaimed, “you are SUCH a liar, tozier.”

“fuck off,” you said to him. “go help eddie.” you reached over and pushed him off the couch, watching richie as he walked into the kitchen out of earshot.

you sat at the couch, a smile still on your face thinking about the trashmouth. you hadn’t told anyone about your impending interest in richie for fear of them telling him because this group was not good at keeping secrets from each other at all. the only person that you vaguely told was beverly, saying that you had an interest in someone in your math class. that left like 10 boys, including richie, in the mix. but the more you hung out with the group, the more you floated towards richie tozier. it wasn’t that hard to tell whom you had feelings for when you two were together.

beverly was starting to notice your feelings for richie and you knew it. 

“so y/n,” beverly asked from across the room. you turned to face her, snapping out of your thoughts about richie. “what are the guys like where you’re from?”

stanley gave beverly a look, laughing a little bit to himself at the question. bill put his face into the palm of his hands and looked at you, interested in your answer. you shrugged your shoulders, looking up to the left in thought. “guys are the same, I guess?”

beverly hummed to herself and gave you that devious little smirk of hers, “what about sex? what are they like?” the other guys laughed a little bit, shaking their heads while still listening for what you had to say. you shook your head, deciding that you weren’t going to answer the question. but that wasn’t enough for beverly, she raised her hands up in the air and slapped her thighs to get your attention again. “come on, y/n! we all wanna know what the boys get up to in england.”

you laughed at your friend. “okay, okay,” you said in defeat, putting your hands up in a ‘I surrender’ motion. “i don’t know. they’re okay i guess. but they’re so caring, they keep asking me if I'm okay, you know? it’s like ‘yes I am now stop asking’.” you laughed to yourself, thinking back to the boys that you’ve been with that all do that. they talk the big talk, then when it comes to actually fucking them, they’re afraid to do anything to do you. they go slow and sensual when sometimes you want it hard and rough. it was exhausting and you were so tired of it. you were also so tired of riding guys to try and get an ounce of the fast rhythm that you wanted. 

richie and eddie walked back into the room right as beverly was about to ask another question, eddie going on and on about how richie wasn’t helpful at all and just watched as eds did all the work. you laughed at your two friends and grabbed the coffee mug richie had gotten for you and made room for him on the couch beside you again. he sat down and wrapped his arm loosely around your shoulder, making you smile into your mug as you took a sip. you leaned into his side, savoring the feeling of being in his arms. 

since it was senior year, the losers were trying to go to as many parties as they could. courtesy of bill being on the baseball team, he got a free ride to all of the good ones and invited all of you guys along. you were getting ready for the party in your room, wearing a short black skirt and some tank top to compensate for the heat that would be at the party. 

richie was planning on picking you up, but you told him he could just come inside because your parents weren’t around to yell at you for having a guy in the house. they were really strict about that sort of thing, which pissed you off because a majority of your new friend group was guys. 

a soft knock on your door was heard and you opened it, smiling at richie who stood idly in the hallway. he looked out of place in your home dressed in his dark blue jeans and black smiths t shirt against the yellow wallpaper of your home. “come in, I'm almost done,” you said to him, beckoning him into your room and pointing to the chair he could sit on next to your desk. 

richie took a look at you when you turned away from him, watching your hair that bounced with every step you took and how the edge of your skirt rode up just a little bit with the sway of your hips. realizing that he was definitely staring more than he should, richie shook his head to himself and made his way to the chair to sit. he watched as you looked at the jewelry that was hanging up on a storage rack. you pulled out a gold chain necklace and gave him a look, “could you help me with this?”

he cleared his throat, nodding in response and walking over. he stood behind you, at least a half a head taller than you. richie grabbed the two ends of your necklace, and with his nimble fingers he easily latched it on, watching it fall perfectly on your skin that glowed in the sunlight that shined through your window. you gave him a smile, which he could see from the mirror in front of you. richie looked at you in the mirror and sighed to himself, for some reason feeling jealous of anyone seeing you in such a short skirt. what if there was another guy there that caught your attention? what if you liked the other guy so much that you let him feel up your skirt or even worse, let him fuck you? 

“are you sure you want to wear that?” richie blurted out before even registering it. you gave him a look in the mirror, eyes landing on his own that were staring at you already. 

you gave a slight laugh, though suddenly felt a little strange feeling in your stomach. “what? are you my dad now or something?” you turned around to face him, your faces only inches apart from each other. you could smell his cologne along with the faint smell of cigarette smoke that you always felt yourself getting lost in when you were in class with him. he was looking down at you with dark eyes that made you clench your thighs together. richie walked forward, prompting you to walk backwards until you were pressed against your dresser. the cold surface made you shiver even through your clothing.

richie was kissing you. 

richie was kissing you. 

richie was kissing you.

with his hands placed firmly on the curve of your waist, body pressing against your own, richie kissed you with an unknown desire he didn’t realize that he had until seeing you in that pretty little skirt of yours. it was an almost animalistic urge and desire to show you that you were his, that he wanted you more than anything in this world. 

your lips moved against his own, eyes fluttering shut after the initial shock wore off. his tongue slipped into your mouth with ease and explored it, hands squeezing your sides with his warm hands. you moaned a little in his mouth, trying to keep up with the pace that was hard and rough. your hands flew to his face right below his glasses, fingers splaying along his soft cheekbones that made him shiver. you never thought that this moment would ever be happening, and the more his hips pressed onto your own, you hoped that even your wildest fantasies about richie tozier would be coming true. 

he grabbed you and turned you around so you were walking backwards to the edge of your bed, and with one languid push you were falling back onto your sheets. you pulled away from the kiss with richie to push yourself backwards all the way onto the bed, pulling him by his shoulders back on top of you and in between your legs, which you wrapped around his waist. richie kissed down your neck, biting a large hickey right in the crook of your neck where your shoulder and neck met. your fingers laced themselves into his black curly hair, reveling in how soft it felt. 

“richie,” you moaned out softly with his hips pushing against your own. you could feel the growing hard on of his against your inner thigh, making you even more wet at the thought of him fucking you with it. “I need you so bad.” you said in a soft tone.

richie came up to meet your gaze, giving you a devilish smirk. “I think you need to beg for it a little better, princess.” his hands went under your tank top, cupping your breasts with each of his hands. his fingers came and pinched your nipples, making you arch your back up into his touch. you needed more, you needed so much more from richie right now. “and don’t call me richie, call me daddy.” 

you threw your head back into the pillows, huffing a little bit while your cheeks burned red with embarrassment. “please daddy, fuck me with your cock,” you whined out, giving him an innocent look while batting your eyelashes at him. richie shook his head, making you frown a little bit at him. what else could he possibly want you to say? richie pushed himself off of you, standing at the edge of the bed while you still laid down, a little bit too clothed for his liking. 

“get undressed,” richie ordered. “then get on your knees.” you did what he asked, standing up from the bed, pulling off your tank top and pushing your skirt down. from there you unclipped your bra and slipped your panties down, throwing your discarded clothes elsewhere in your room. the look that richie was giving you was enough to make you moan out quietly, heat getting wetter and wetter with each passing second. you keeled down to your knees in front of him, watching as he worked to take off his belt and push his pants down. “I think you need to prove how much you want daddy’s cock,” he said to you. 

his hands reached to push down his boxers, taking himself into his hands and giving a few good pumps. you waited there for him, mouth open with your tongue laying out right for him to place his dick onto it. soon enough he was pushing into your mouth, making you sputter a small bit around his cock, hollowing out as much as you could. he was thick and long, and you didn’t know if you could even take him all in your mouth. the thought of it being thrust in and out with no remorse made you feel wild. 

you looked up at him, dick in your mouth, waiting for him to make a move. richie tutted, “such a good little slut aren't you? so ready to suck on my cock.” you shivered at the degrading, feeling that fire pool into your abdomen. his hands wrapped into your hair making a makeshift ponytail and pulling you off of his cock, then pushing it back into your mouth. he continued this motion, getting a little faster. you had to breath through your nose, spit drooling down out of your lips and down your chin. 

richie groaned from above you, bottom lip in between his white teeth. you reached to grab the back of his thighs to steady yourself while he used your mouth mercilessly. you gag around him, dick pulling out to give you a moment to breathe. while you breathe, your hands come to pump his cock that was slick with your spit. he didn’t waste another second pushing in, leading you by only your hair. your eyes are starting to water while you try and swallow around him. 

with one last thrust and push all the way to the back of your throat, richie pulls you off of him and says, “now what do you say?” it takes you a moment to find your words. your throat feels raw and fucked out and you don’t trust your voice but you say, “thank you daddy. thank you for letting me taste your cock.” 

“good girl, such a good girl,” richie praises, reaching to pull you up to your feet. your knees feel raw from kneeling before him, but instead of feeling hurt by it you just feel more aroused, anticipating what he would make you do next. “lay on the bed princess, legs spread out for me like a good bitch.”

you nodded your head, whining a little bit from the loss of contact from him, knowing that you would get it soon though. in between your thighs ached at the thought of him going to be inside you, stretching you out and fucking into you until you were a ruined mess. the eye makeup that you had put on for the party was slightly smeared already from the tears welled up in your eyes as he fucked your mouth. he didn’t fit all the way in your mouth . . . you wondered if he would even fit inside of your aching pussy. 

you laid down at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs out to show yourself to him as much as you could. richie smiled at you, a real genuine smile while his eyes raked over your body. you were so wet, he could easily see how much you wanted him, how much you needed him. richie put his hands on your thighs, thumbs running up and down your inner thighs purposely neglecting the place you needed him most. you watched him with needy eyes, breath hitching in your throat once two fingers finally slid along your slicked folds. his fingers caught your arousal, instantly getting wet enough to push into you. they stretched you out, quickening the pace while his other hand kept your hips from squirming around. 

he pulled his fingers out and pushed them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. you tasted so good that richie thought he was going to die right then and there. he pushed off his t shirt and settled in between your legs, letting his hands come right up to your hips. “now take daddy’s cock like the good slut you are, okay princess?” he said to you, giving you no time to answer when he pushed into you with no warnings. there was a little restraint from you around him, he was so big that it took him a moment to bottom out. you took every single inch of him, eyes closing and head throwing back onto the pillow. 

“you’re so big daddy,” you moaned out, hearing him groan your name after you said it. your eyes were still closed so you didn’t see his hand come and reach around your throat until you felt his long fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze. your clit throbbed at the feeling, loving the feeling of his hand around your throat while he pushed slowly in and out. “fuck me daddy, please, I need you so bad daddy,” you begged him, needing something more to push you to finish. 

“well, since you asked so nicely,” richie said to you, pushing down on your throat and fucking into you nice and hard. your tits bounced with every harsh thrust, your hands gripped the sheets beside you while you took every single rut of his hips. you were so desperate and wet for him that the sound that was made every time he pushed in and out was sinful and you loved every second of it. 

he fucked you into the mattress so hard that you were moaning and screaming, feeling hotter and hotter as he took you to that brink. “I think I'm close daddy please let me cum,” you begged him, eyes opening to meet his own that were looking intensely along your body. he gave you a serious smile and nodded his head, “you can cum then baby, let it out, since you asked so nicely.” and that’s all it took for you to clench around him, feeling your whole body spasm. your legs were begging you to close but you couldn’t, because richie’s hips were in the way, keeping you spread out. 

richie still hadn’t came yet, and you could see the determined look on his face while he picked up the pace, harsh and rough ruts against your hips left you moaning again. his hand clenched around your throat and you breathed out shakily as best as you could, his other hand pushed your leg up. this exposed a new angle and made him push even deeper into you. his thick cock stretched you out more and more with every thrust, your aching pussy so sensitive from your first orgasm. the base of his cock pressed against your clit and you knew you were going to cum again. 

right as his thrusts started to get more erratic and out of rhythm from his previous ones, you were cumming and clenching again, making him spill inside you with a moan of your name. “you took my cock so well,” richie muttered out, groaning while his hot spurts stayed inside you, only a few drops spilling out while he pulled out of you. his hand left your throat and he left you, coming back into your line of vision with a towel in hand. richie wiped away all the cum he could that was slick in between your thighs, mixing with the sweat and your own arousal.  each of you were breathing so heavily, it was as if neither of you had decided to breath during that entire time. 

too enticed by the idea of fucking each other. 

he grabbed your panties and tank top, giving you them and helping you get into them. he pulled up his boxers and gave you a look, wondering if you wanted him to stay or not. you looked up at him and grabbed his arm, not letting him leave your room for the time being. 

“if you’re going to fuck me that hard, you need to give me cuddles afterwards.” you giggled, making room for him to lay beside you. you cuddled into his side, pulling the covers over each of you. 

“I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to get into the complicated stuff,” richie said. 

you cocked your head to the side. “the complicated stuff?”

“yeah. like the fact that I have feelings for you. a lot of them.”

you smiled, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “then I'll spare you the explanation, yeah? I like you too, richie. a lot.” 

you liked him too. richie felt his heart start to beat more rapidly inside of his chest. he turned and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, humming contently.

[andcontemplation]

Old Friends, New Lives

Joyce Byers saw a ghost. Right there in the produce section of the supermarket. 

Across the display of crated oranges, hovering over the bulk bins, Jim Hopper had caught her eye. She stopped in her tracks and gasped. It was clear by the shock written all over her face that she wasn’t expecting to see him.

“What are you doing here?” 

The words tumbled out of her before she bit down on her bottom lip so hard, there was no way she didn’t taste blood, and her eyes went wide. She blinked once, twice, and gave her head a little shake. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing -- was it really him?

“Getting groceries for my mom,” Hopper gave a half shrug. “What does it look like?”

He waved the list at her as if to convince her that yes -- he was indeed real, and it wasn’t really a big deal. Not like she hadn’t seen him in just a smidge over two years. 

843 days to be precise… not like either of them was keeping count.

 A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth at the sight of her floundering above the mixed nuts, but he fought it. She was still so cute when she was flustered, and to be honest, he was enjoying making her squirm—just a bit. 

Joyce just shook her head impatiently.

“No, I meant, what are you doing here? At home. We weren’t expecting you…”

Hopper glanced at his list and grabbed a box of oranges for his basket.

“I’m on R n’ R. Uncle Sam let me come home for a few weeks before my next tour.”

Joyce continued to shake her head, moving from impatience into disbelief. Or maybe hurt? Anger. Sadness.

She blinked back what looked like tears and nearly choked on her next words.

“And you didn’t think to call? Or write?”

“Well, I was going to…” Hopper shrugged again, wondering how much longer he could keep up this charade of not-giving-a-fuck. Then he reminded himself that he kinda had a reason to be distant and cold with her. 

“So why didn’t you?” she asked.

Joyce shifted her weight, and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she had her hands on her hips behind the display. He couldn’t meet her gaze, so he glanced around the store, at the walnuts on sale, at a young family passing by pushing their baby in a shopping cart. Looking anywhere but at her.

“Didn’t think it was right to hit up someone else old lady at Christmastime,” he muttered after a second.

Joyce sighed deeply, and it drew his attention back to her. 

She was staring at him, in earnest or exasperation, he couldn’t tell. Her eyes drifted over him as if taking in his image just in case it was the last time she might see him again. It didn’t feel like much had changed since they’d seen each other last. Sure, his messy, dirty blonde mop was now cropped high and tight, and the old button-down flannel he’d got from his closet didn’t quite fit him like it used to just a few years ago back in high school. He’d bulked up from his time in the army and lost some of that boyish charm and innocence somewhere along the way to the jungles of Vietnam, and maybe she could see that too. 

She was staring into his soul now. As much as he might’ve been hurt, she was hurt too, maybe even worse. If that was even possible.

“We’re still friends, Hop,” she said, finally.

“Are we?”

Joyce nodded, her cheeks flushed. She looked down for a long moment, and when she raised her head again, he swore she looked just a little bit guilty.

“Yeah,” she said. “We are.”

Then she stepped around the bulk bin, out from behind the crates of Christmas oranges and into the open where he could see now why she might feel guilty. Just a bit.

Hopper knew about the wedding. He didn’t know about this...

Joyce pushed her cart to the side and walked closer to him, fully aware it was his turn to stare now. Her left hand fell to her belly self-consciously, and Hopper didn’t know what hurt worse: the flash of a modest gold ring on her finger under the harsh fluorescent lights or the graceful swell of the child growing inside her. 

She was glowing with her rosy cheeks, dark hair pulled up high in a bouncy ponytail, and a blue corduroy jumper dress that flattered in her condition. Motherhood looked surprisingly good on her, and Hopper struggled with the emotions bubbling up inside; that it wasn’t him who put her in the family way instead.

“Christ, look at you,” was all he managed to get out, his hardened exterior slowly starting to melt away. 

Joyce heaved a sigh and leaned against the bins. 

“Yeah.”

Hopper’s heart sank at the verbal confirmation that what he was seeing was the god awful truth. He cleared his throat and tried to talk over the lump forming there. 

“I heard from Mom that you and Lonnie…” 

He couldn’t finish. He didn’t want to think about the fact her new last name was now Byers.

“Yeah,” Joyce said again, looking sorry. “I wanted to tell you. I just… didn’t know how.”

Hopper just shook his head.

“How-- I mean… When are you… due?”

“Any day now.”

Hopper rocked back on his heels, searching for something more to say than abject stammering. The emotions were getting the best of him. 

“He treating you good?”

“Yeah,” Joyce breathed, a happy grin creeping up on her lips. “Never thought I’d say that. But Lon’s been really sweet on me since he found out he’s gonna be a dad. It was even his idea to get hitched,” she said, trailing off, “I wanted to wait…”

Anger and jealousy won, and Hopper’s lip curled, despite himself. 

“Didn’t wait very long, huh?” 

He only sort of regretted saying it the second Joyce’s grin vanished. 

“Well, good for Lonnie,” Hopper continued, trying his best not to sound too sarcastic. “Never pegged him for the marrying kind.”

The color disappeared from her cheeks then, too. Joyce set her jaw and glared. 

“At least he stays true to his commitments. Unlike some people.”

Hopper rolled his eyes. 

“Yes. Clearly, Lonnie knows where his priorities lie. Like sending his pregnant wife out to get groceries for Christmas dinner right when she’s about ready to pop.”

Joyce gripped her shopping cart and pulled it towards her in defiance. 

“Well… a wife’s responsibility is running the house, you know.”

“Not when you’re as big as a house.” 

Hopper realized what he said as it left his mouth, and he had never felt more regret in his twenty short years on Planet Earth.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever happened to women’s lib?” Hopper tried to backpedal. “I thought you were all for getting women out of the house…”

“I am nine months pregnant, Jim Hopper--”

“I just meant you shouldn’t be on your feet right--”

But Joyce refused to hear him.

“I cannot believe you! That is the rudest--”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” 

He cut her off, raising his voice, causing the nearby shoppers to stop and gawk at the trouble brewing next to a case of apples and oranges.

“You know what?” Her hand went up, and she leaned forward over her cart handle. “I’m going to stop you right there before I take out your knee caps using this shopping cart as my battering ram.” 

Her eyebrows shot up as if she was telling him to try her. For a moment, he was actually scared of the five-foot-three mother-to-be -- she was absolutely Horrifying with a capital H when she was hormonal and angry. No Viet-Cong could send chills down his spine the way she just did.

Then, as if a switch was flipped, Joyce straightened up, looked at her wristwatch, and pressed her lips together, slowly pushing her cart away.  

“It was really nice running into you, Jim, but you’ll have to excuse me. I suddenly have more important things to do… like pick out a ham.”

“Great!” 

Hopper grabbed an apple and slammed it into his basket. He grabbed another and squeezed it, bruising the fruit as he watched her walk away. 

“Excellent. Thanks for the catch-up. Let’s do this again sometime!” He called out after her, eliciting a few more concerned glances from passers-by. 

She stopped at the next aisle, looked over her shoulder, and gave him an exaggerated eye roll and a dismissive wave.

“Have a nice life, Hop,” she muttered over her shoulder, just under her breath. Just loud enough so only he could hear her.

“Same to you, sweetheart,” he snarled, even though he was pretty sure only the bananas heard him that time. 

A few moments later, Hopper was awkwardly standing in front of the bountiful display of yams and potatoes, his shopping basket at his feet, hoping Joyce would be done with the cereal soon -- where he needed to go next -- when he heard her cuss. Expecting it to be directed at him, he turned, ready to start the argument up again but instead, his blood ran cold. 

Joyce was holding herself up against the Cheerios, clutching the shelf with white knuckles. Her face was twisted in pain. 

Hopper left the basket at his feet and crossed the produce section to get to her as fast as possible.

“You okay?” he asked as he approached, worried.

“Yeah, fine.” Joyce waved him off through a grimace. She rubbed her belly and tried to convince the both of them. “It’s just a little cramp. I’ve had them all morning.”

“Joyce,” Hopper said, reaching for her as the cramp worsened. 

“I’m fine!” She shouted, pulling her arm out of his grasp. The motion made her fall back into her cart, and Hopper caught her just in time before it rolled away on her.

“No,” he told her firmly. “You’re not!”

Joyce grimaced and whined and bore down through the pain. 

“I- I think I’m…” she stammered before it happened.

Hopper stepped back just as her water hit the floor tiles with a sickening splash. Joyce looked up at him, stunned.

Oh shit. 

“Okay,” he said, taking charge. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

“The groceries…” Joyce said in a daze, reaching for her cart as Hopper was escorting out towards the store’s front.

Just like in combat, Private Hopper never skipped a beat under pressure. All sorts of pressure. Like navigating a minefield or getting his ex-girlfriend to the hospital to deliver his arch-enemy’s baby.

“Forget the groceries,” Hopper told her before he started asking the tough questions. “Where’s Lonnie?”

“I… I don’t know,” Joyce admitted as she waddled down the aisle, Hopper helping to hold her upright from behind. She let go of his hand she didn’t realize she was holding as the wave of pain started to subside.

“He’s not at home?” Hopper asked her. Why was he even surprised?

“He said he was going to visit a friend last night, but he didn’t come home.” 

“Of course he didn’t,” Hopper snorted.

As they turned the corner towards the front doors, they passed an unavoidable crowd -- the checkout lines were full of onlookers. 

“Hey buddy, clean up on aisle three,” Hopper said to the nearest bag boy.

Everyone at the checkout lanes stopped what they were doing and stared. Some, who knew the pair, whispered between them; others smirked but averted their gaze. The bag boy, who was all of fourteen, turned white as a sheet when he realized what was going on, but the kid quickly nodded, opening the door for them out into the parking lot.

“Out of the way!” Hopper shouted to a group of smoking, loitering teens, and they scattered at the foreboding sight of the pregnant lady going into labor. 

“Where’s your car?” Hopper asked Joyce.

She stopped to catch her breath. 

“There.” 

She pointed at her mom’s beat-up old Ford Galaxie in the expectant-mothers stall and handed him the keys from her purse.

He opened the passenger door for her and all but pushed her in. If she hesitated any more, it might’ve looked like a kidnapping to any other bystanders. 

“Do you need anything from home?” he asked as he climbed into the driver’s side. “Or do you want to go straight to the hospital? Joyce?”

She had a distant look on her face, and all the color drained from it in a split second. She was going into shock. 

“Joyce!” Hopper barked like he was trying to get a new Private’s attention. “Answer me!”

“I’m fine! I’m fine.” She snapped out of it and moaned. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes. “Just take me to hospital. Please hurry.”

He did as he was told, and it didn’t take them long to get there. The Galaxie practically floated down Main street towards Hawkins Memorial on what was left of the suspension. Hopper drove the big pink boat like it was a Ferrari, weaving in and out of the wintery mid-day traffic, and silently practiced what he’d say if they got pulled over. But by the grace of god, they never did.

He got her to the Emergency Room in record time, leaving the car parked and running at the entrance. An orderly helped him bring Joyce to intake, and Hopper helped her answer questions through another wicked contraction. Then, as he got her comfortable in one of the waiting room chairs, with the assurance that it wouldn’t be long now, Hopper got the feeling like maybe he had done all he could, or should... 

He would park her car, call a cab to take him back to the supermarket, finish up his mother’s shopping, and go home. His job here was done. Yet he couldn’t help himself when he asked aloud:

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Joyce’s eyes were red, rimmed with tears as she tried not to cry while she contemplated his question. It felt like forever before she shook her head. 

“No…”

Hopper nodded slowly but took the answer quickly, half expecting it. He squeezed her arm and stood up to go. 

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Can you find Lonnie? Please?” she asked. “Call Norm Brown. 0465. Or maybe Tony’s? He’s at 3112. Or was it 3113? Shit. I can’t remember…” Joyce wracked her brain for the phone numbers to give him, looking panicked, sucking in shallower and shallower breaths. She was starting to hyperventilate. 

“Hey, breathe…” Hopper said, crouching in front of her, getting her to slow down. “Just breathe. I’ll find him for you, okay? I promise. What about your mom? Want me to call her too?” 

Joyce focused on her breath, speaking between long inhales and exhales. 

“She’s not here. Taking care of aunt Darlene. It’s just Lonnie. And me right now.”

When her breathing evened out, he caught her eye, giving her one last reassurance. 

“I’ll find him. Don’t worry your pretty little head… Mom.”

Joyce laughed at the absurdity of the new name on her. 

“This is actually happening, isn’t it?” A couple tears ran down her face, and Hopper caught them with his thumb before they got too far down her cheeks.

“Yup.”

“I’m not just dreaming this?” she sputtered, followed by another short giggle.

Hopper forced a smile, even though he knew it was tinged with sadness.

“Nope.”

It looked like Joyce was about to say something more when a matronly grey-haired nurse with a wheelchair interrupted, killing the moment.

“Missus Byers? We can take you in now. Does Dad want to come in too?

Hopper stood up and let go of her hand, practically recoiling. 

“Oh, no. No. No… I’m not…”

The older nurse frowned.

“Oh.” 

Joyce smiled awkwardly. 

“He’s just an old friend.”

“A close friend of the family,” Hopper added.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure, whatever you kids wanna call it,” she said, then turned to Joyce. “Are you ready?”

Joyce closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said to the nurse. As Hopper helped her into the wheelchair, she reached for him one last time. 

“Find him for me, Hop?”

“I will. Hey,” Hopper locked eyes with her and then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks.” She whispered back, squeezed his hand, her fingers lacing with his for a brief moment in time.

Hopper swiftly kissed the top of her head as he stood up to go. Then, he watched her get wheeled off beyond the swinging double doors and into the next stage of her life while he stayed firmly planted in their old one. 

When Hopper had parked her car and left her keys with hospital reception, he found a payphone and called the numbers Joyce had given him. One was no answer. The others said they’d pass along the message to Byers, which was good enough for now. 

Then Hopper called a cab to go back to the supermarket, but he could barely focus. He grabbed the essentials from what he remembered from his mom’s list, lost somewhere along the way to the hospital, and then went home in a daze himself. 

He wondered how it was they got to this point -- former best friends, lovers, now perfect strangers in each other’s lives, except for those few moments in between when it was only them and whatever trouble they’d found themselves in. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the merry-go-round of misunderstandings and his-and-her mistakes in life that brought them here. Any sane person would say it was time to let go, move on. 

Was a friendship even salvageable after all they’d been through? She seemed to think so, briefly before he ruined it with his bad attitude. 

Later that evening, Hopper tried to get comfortable and get some sleep, something he was sorely lacking since jetting halfway around the world only a few days prior -- he was still on Saigon time. But he could only toss and turn, thinking about Joyce. Worried that Lonnie might still be MIA, and she’d be all alone, he got up, grabbed the bouquet of lilies he’d brought home for his mom from the airport out of the crystal vase off the dining room table, tied it up with some ribbon he found under the Christmas tree and drove back to the hospital. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was when he got there. He just had the urge to see Joyce again, one more time, and tell her it’d be okay.

But when he walked through the front entrance to the Maternity ward, Lonnie was there in the waiting room just beyond the intake desk, smoking a cigar with a few buddies, looking like they’d just finished up a shift at the bar. The sight of the other man was enough to stop Hopper dead in his tracks. The last few times they had interacted ended in fisticuffs, and Hopper knew better than to engage, especially tonight. Lonnie might’ve been an asshole, but it was still his first kid. He had a right to be happy and celebrate, without anyone shitting on his parade or stirring up trouble. 

Hopper doubled back to the pretty red-headed nurse at the front desk and handed her the flowers, interrupting the paperwork she was shuffling through.

“Give these to Baby Byers. Tell the family congratulations for me.”

The young nurse nodded and smiled sweetly at Hopper as he turned to go.

“Oh, but there’s no card,” she said after him. “Who should I say they’re from?”

Hopper shrugged. 

“Just an old friend.”

[oimoi-op]

when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago. 

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have. 

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet. 

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss. 

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot. 

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up 

[musingsofanunorgainizedmind]

Top 10 Things I Love About Supernatural

It’s been almost half a year since the show ended and now that the dust has settlIed, I just want to list ten reasons I love this show. Despite it’s flaws, it’s been quite the ride.

1. Team Free Will

When I first got the idea to make this list, I originally planned on doing entirely separate entries for “Sam & Dean” and “Destiel”. Except then I wanted to pay tribute to “Sastiel”. And then I wanted to do an entry for “Team Free Dads”. By that point, I was already halfway through the list and I hadn’t even moved on from the main characters. A few months ago, I made a post about why I love every single pairing in this group. Obviously, Sam and Dean are a legendary duo. Obviously, Dean and Cas have an unparalleled story. Obviously, Sam and Cas are an underrated team. As for Team Free Dads, I’ve always had a soft spot for father/mentor figure characters and and all three tackle the role in different ways. I love Jack, too. I love how everyone in this bizarro family is “broken” in some way. We’ve got the Allistair’s prized pupil, the spawn of satan, the boy with demon blood, and the angel who nearly obliterated all of heaven. But they help each other heal by being supportive and seeing the good in each other. They all love each other so deeply and when together, nothing can stand in their way. Not Michael, not Lucifer, and not God himself. They tore up the book and wrote their own story. And it was a pleasure to watch it all unfold.

2. The Suppporting Characters

To list every single supporting character I have loved and lost in this show would take way too long. I don’t know if it’s the writing or acting performances, but I love pretty much every single supporting character on this show. Even villains like Azazel or Allistair are top-notch villains. Hell, I even like characters like Metatron, Lucifer, Mary, and John! Characters like Rufus, Charlie, Crowley, Rowena, Kevin, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Gabriel, Balthazar, Mick...how am I not supposed to love them??? All of their stories were cut so short. I’d watch a show about any of these characters. The Wayward Sisters were robbed. So many ships were gone too soon (Sam/Rowena, Dean/Jo, Cas/Meg, Etc.). So many heartbreaking deaths. I want to be best friends with all these characters. Why be a “dean-girl” or a “sam-girl” when you can be a garth-girl? A kevin-girl? A claire-girl? A bela-girl? There are so many great characters with interesting and compelling backstories and so much untapped potential. I could go on forever on this, but I digress.This show has one of the best supporting casts I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

3. The Themes

It’s no accident that I got addicted to this show at the time that I did. Namely, my Senior Year of College and 2020. Graduating college and entering the “real world” felt like it’s own sort of apocalypse. 2020 definitely exacerbated my worst tendencies. Messages like “family don’t end in blood”, “you can write your own story”, and “always keep fighting” really resonated with me. I could definitely relate to the feelings of insecurity these character’s felt and the ways they suppressed/repressed their issues instead of facing them. I could relate to the feelings of not fitting in and I could definitely relate to the loneliness. This show helped remind me that I’m not alone. That it’s okay if my values and identity don’t line up with the what I envisioned for myself. And, most importantly, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that I should never give up. If Dean, Sam, and Cas can keep moving forward despite their demons and despite how bad it gets, so can I. Regardless of how the story ended, these themes resonated with me and I’ll still hold them with me. A single episode can’t take that away.

4. The Fun Episodes

This show has so many legendary standalone episodes. Changing Channels. Ghostfacers. The French Mistake. Fan Fiction. Tall Tales. Bad Day at Black Rock. When this show goes for the absurd, it goes all-in. It takes the risks it needs to take, it gets completely insane, and it pulls it off. So many of these episodes could have easily been the moment that the show “jumped the shark”. Yet, time after time, the show delivered on it’s potential. I don’t know how much I can say about these episodes except that they made me laugh out loud, made me fall even harder for these characters, and that they’re the episodes I remember best. If I were to rewatch any episode, it would be one of the fun ones. This show knew how to not take itself too seriously and how to poke fun at itself. I’ve always had a soft spot for shows that can make me laugh and cry (X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Doctor Who, etc.), and this show definitely nails the fun part. 

5. The Sad Episodes

Death’s Door. Hammer of the Gods. Despair. Carry On. Abandon All Hope. In My Time of Dying. Swan Song. When this show wants you to cry, it doesn’t pull the punches. It gets downright devastating. No character is safe. Literally every character you love will either be forgotten or will die. Or both. The amount of trauma Sam and Dean have to go through is insane. Both have literally been to hell and back. Both have killed countless people, including innocents. When this show decides it wants to wreck you, it’s overwhelming. I sobbed when Bobby died. I sobbed when every single member of Team Free Will died for the final time (I still can’t watch any of those scenes). I still wish Jo, Ellen, Charlie, Kevin, Mick, and Gabriel had been given more time to tell their stories. Being a hunter means a life of endless angst. Being an angel or demon doesn’t get you off the hook, either. I remember going into this show thinking it couldn’t hurt me. My favorite character type is “mentor/father figure”. But holy hell...I don’t think every single sad moment was necessarily good writing, but when it was? Damn. 

6. The Biblical Themes

I’m not a relgious person. But, despite this show being steeped in Christian mythology, it really touched on my feelings about the Old Testament in a profound way. Well, really just Ben Edlund and Robbie Thompson did. I’ve never seen a show really hit the overall feel of the bible the way this show does. The idea of Angels as mystical and terrifying creatures. The idea of God as a flawed father figure with a penchant for wrath. The sheer epicness of the biblical stories. The idea of family members constantly being turned on each other. Cain and Abel. Jacob and Essau. Moses and Ramses. Moses and Aaron. Abraham and Isaac. The bible is full of stories of family drama. This show doesn’t always give angels and demons weight. Sometimes it’s silly and stupid and cheesy. But when it hits right? It’s epic. This is more of a personal thing I love about the show, but definitely a plus!

7. The Music

The early seasons music is so good. I really miss the classic rock of the golden era of the show. I mean, there are still some great musical moments later on, but damn. I loved hearing songs I recognized and I loved learning new songs. I loved when the song and the scene hit perfectly in time (Death’s intro. Cas’s return in Season 13.). Also Supernatural wouldn’t be Supernatural without the ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’ song at the end of every season. Even at the end of a season I didn’t love, that recap would always get me pumped. Also Chuck singing Fare Thee Well? Dean and Lee singing together? Fan Fiction? All great. 

8. The Cast & Crew

I never care about the actors or actresses in a show. I definitely don’t bother with the names of specific writers and directors or their styles of writing/directing. They’re just random people who happen to write for or play these characters I love. They’re not actually the characters. But these guys? Well, for one, I’m pretty sure half this cast actually is their character. At least to some degree. They’re also just...really cool people? Who are all friends? They make a point to do community service, to interact with fans, and to promote positive ideas. Jared’s Always Keep Fighting campaign. Misha and GISH. The fact that they all participate in fundraising opportunities and encourage fan engagement. Do they all have issues? Definitely. Have they said stupid things? Yes. But the good far outweighs the bad. They’re an entertaining bunch whether onscreen or not and I hope they all do well in whatever their future endeavors may be.  

9. The Fandom

I joined this fandom late. To be honest, I thought this fandom was obnoxious before I found myself a part of it. Now that I’ve been in the trenches? It’s got it’s ups and downs like any fandom. There are some parts that are more toxic than others. A lot of people yelling that their opinion is the only opinion. But overall? The good outweighs the bad. And the good? The good is great. Some fanfictions I’ve read are better than actual books I’ve read and just as moving. The fanart? Incredible. I love reading all the metas about random aspects of the show I never would have noticed. I love the music videos and I love the analytical videos. In real life, I’ve made many friends through our mutual love of this show. Hell, even getting sucked into GISH once or twice has given me some solid memories and brought me closer to friends. I wish all fandoms were this much like family. I’m so glad I got to be a part of this fandom and I can’t wait to continue being a fan. After all, nothing ever stays dead in Supernatural.

10. The Chaos & Insanity

Season 16 has been a time. First, Destiel went canon. Then suddenly Sherlock was having a 5th season, Putin was retiring, and Georgia was going blue. Destiel going “canon” and Joe Biden winning the presidency will always be correlated in my mind now. Things in the fandom went from quiet to blaringly loud real fast. Carry On happened. The fandom went into a civil war. I can’t even remember half of what happened in Season 16, but it’s been a wild ride. There’s been ups (my personal favorite being the french dub and the Saileen wedding). There’s been downs (Jared’s controversial statements and the original scripts being leaked). At one point Misha Collins had sex with Bill Clinton???? It’s been a wild time. It’s honestly gotten me through the end of this pandemic. At least it’s entertaining. I would say that at least all the craziness is over, but is it ever really over? Every time I say that something else completely insane happens. But it’s been fun. I’m glad I started watching this show despite my reservations and here’s to whatever happens next. 

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 13)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 My Master Post

Remy was slumped down in his seat as Emile continued to lecture him on all the possible consequences of his actions over the past 24 hours. Jeezy creezy was Emile miffed about all of that. Remy had been trying to blow it off, but Emile was fully, painfully aware that he’d almost had lost his brother today and Remy was going to hear about it until Emile’s lungs aches.

“And another thing…” he said.

“Wait,” Remy said, and Emile did because there was a lace of panic to his tone.

“What?” Emile asked.

“The tracker stopped working,” Remy answered pushing buttons a little bit desperately on his device.

“It went completely offline somehow,” Remy said.

“Did it get turned off?” Emile asked. “Or run out of batteries?”

“It doesn’t turn off and the batteries are designed to last for years,” Remy said. “It can even track through 20 feet of water. The only way it could stop sending a signal this abruptly is if the thing was destroyed.”

Emile paused. “You said Virgil knows what the blinking light means.”

“Yes.”

“Is it possible that he knows, or well, ‘knows,’ you’re dead? Barbara did send a man after him, he could have mentioned it.”

Remy stared down at the device in his hands.

He pressed a couple of buttons and studied the screen for a moment. “You little shit,” he groaned. “You threw it out the fucking car window, didn’t you?”

“How do you know?” Emile asked.

“Because if I look at the history, it was going at 65 miles per hour down the interstate, suddenly stopped cold, and then went offline probably when another car inevitably crushed it.”

“Ah.”

“Well, at least the fucker’s probably okay. Dammit Virgil! Where are you going?” Remy pushed a few more buttons almost idly as he thought. “Let me get into Virgil’s head for a minute: emo music, dark clothes, would rather have his toenails ripped out than go to parties, makes split second decisions based on little info. Yep! Got him.”

Emile rolled his eyes, but Remy wouldn’t have noticed as he had his own eyes closed. “Hmm. So, I’m Virgil. My bitch mom killed my dad and sent someone after me. I have no idea what’s going on, but I bolt out of there because fuck mom. I want to get the hell out of dodge so I convince someone to drive me somehow, I guess, but where would I want to go? Someplace safe. Where’s safe? Maybe Emile, but obviously that’s not where he went. Or Janus, but he’s too connected to mom. I don’t really know anyone else, especially not someone who could help with this sort of stuff.”

Remy thought for another long moment. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Emile asked. “What oops?”

He could tell by the expression on Remy’s face that he was not going to like the answer. “I may have let something… slip.”

“What do you mean, Remington?”

“Um, well you see,” Remy said. “A couple of months ago Virgil was being, you know, himself: a little shit. He may have, possibly, found some papers.”

“What kind of papers?” Emile asked.

“They were nothing important!” Remy assured. “There wasn’t any dangerous info in them or anything, but…”

“But?”

“It is somewhat possible that they had the name on them.”

“How possible?” Emile asked, eyes narrowed on him.

“He asked what Green Bellow Foods was and why they needed 50 top-of-the line computers outfitted at an old factory.”

“And what did you tell him?!”

“Nothing!”

Emile glared at him.

“Okay, well I had to tell him something,” Remy mumbled. “I just kind of said that I knew the owner well and was working with him on some stuff. Then I told him not to worry about it, which was probably a mistake, because he’s Virgil. So, then I found him snooping in my car. At that point I had to sit him down and talk to him. So, I told him a bit about Logan.”

“Remy that’s not nothing!”

“I didn’t use his name or anything. I just told him a couple of really, extremely, tremendously, vague stories, so he didn’t think I owed money to the mafia. Which, yes, he did suggest.”

“That’s worse!”

“What do you want from me Emile?!”

“Some common sense!” Emile answered. “I’ve been comparing you to the rat in Ratatouille for years, but I’m starting to think you’re more of a Pinky from Pinky and the Brain.”

“Hey, ouch,” Remy replied. “Also, I personally subscribe to the theory that Pinky is actually the intelligent one who is foiling Brain’s evil plots from the inside. So, there.”

“Now is not the time,” Emile said.

“Oh, it’s not the time to discuss cartoon theories?” Remy mumbled into his lap. “Must be serious.”

“It is serious! Virgil is missing!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Remy snapped. “I know, Emile.”

There was quiet. Emile took a breath. “Okay,” he said, calmer. “Do you really think he’s going to Logan?”

“He’s headed somewhere,” Remy answered, “and wherever that somewhere is, it’s inexplicably down the most direct route towards base.”

“Well, Virgil is smart. I don’t think he’d just keep going so quickly without a destination in mind. We should call Logan.”

“Do you honestly believe Barbara doesn’t have your phone tapped when Virgil is missing? If you had one of Logan’s phones, I might agree with you, but as it is, we’d be giving away our position, and possibly clueing her into Virgil’s plan. If he shows up at base, Logan will take him in no question. It’s less dangerous for everyone this way.”

“Fine,” Emile said. “We’ll just keep driving towards Logan and hope you’re right about where he’s going.”

“Of course, I’m right,” Remy said lightly. “I’ve got the paternal instincts going on. Course, they didn’t stop the knife throwing incident of ’09. I blame Janus for that, though.”

Emile shook his head at him.

“It is good for when he tries to steal sweets, or that one time he brought home a baby piglet and tried to hide it from me in his bedroom. Or when he’s feeling anxious about something but won’t tell me because he thinks it’s silly.” Remy’s own fingers tapped out an anxious pattern against his knee. “It also worked with the golf cart incident, but it was too late. Again, I blame Janus. He messes with the paternal instinct meter. He’s far too unpredictable and I make the mistake of thinking he’s responsible, which he is half the time, but the other half of the time I remember that he’s still mostly a kid and one that grew up in an unstable environment. Did I tell you that last month they went and won a bunch of tickets at the arcade and used them to get those 5 ticket rubber ducks and just unloaded them all over my room? Honestly, you’d think a 21-year-old would have a better use for his money or at least have the brains to go buy them at a store. He could have gotten like 500 more ducks for the same amount of money. Of course, it was his mom’s money, so I guess I can get behind wasting it on arcade games and rubber ducks. The prank was apparently based on some comedy sketch Virgil found online.”

“You’re doing the thing again,” Emile pointed out calmly.

“Stop psych evaluating me,” he shot back.

“Fine, fine,” Emile said. “Keep distracting yourself from your emotional responses with silly stories. See if I care.”

“Thank you,” Remy replied. “I will.”

Emile sighed as he started back up again mumbling something about having taken away Virgil’s Gameboy after catching him playing it at 3 o’clock in the morning. He claimed this wasn’t because the boy hadn’t gotten any sleep on a school night, but because he’d insulted Donkey Kong to Remy’s face. After that story had run its course, Remy continued to babble at an increasingly fast pace about all sorts of things. Emile imagined most of the stories he sprouted off were quite embellished.

Emile had tried to turn on the radio once, but Remy had slapped his hand away saying, “The next one’s a really good one.” So, he had resigned himself to his fate of tuning out Remy’s coping mechanism to the best of his abilities and just focusing on driving for the next 45 minutes. Which is probably why he noticed that traffic had strangely decreased. He didn’t really pay the fact that much mind until the traffic suddenly increased… in the form of a wall of stopped cars.

“Jenkies, what’s going on?” he asked, as he came to a stop at the end of the line of cars.

“Um…” Remy said looking out of his car window. There, staring into their car with beady black eyes was a cow. As Emile watched, said cow leaned forward to drag its tongue across the passenger side window. “Shit.”

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Part 14