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#What they’re going through is just a normal teenage bump in the road
pjo-fan17 · 2 years
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hey guys! Another month, another post!!
do you want to know what I just realized? And I come from personal experience so no one can come at me for this. But no one can really be blamed for Mike and Will’s friendship becoming distant. They’re what 14? 15? I was 13 when my best friend and I had a falling out. Nothing really happened that caused it. I was finding new people, she was moving away. We had a couple arguments (just like Mike and Will), but at the end of the day we both realized that it’s normal for childhood friends to drift apart. We had been friends since we were four and broke up when we were 13. It’s normal, no one did anything wrong. There was some miscommunications, misunderstandings, a couple arguments but none of those can be blamed on either of us. Falling outs can’t happen without arguments. So you can’t go around blaming Mike for ruining his friendship with Will, vise versa. They were childhood friends who met at the age of 5, and now they’re drifted at the age of 15. That is normal. Now, they could get close again, or they could just stay distant. Neither boys can be blamed for what happened.
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comfy-whumpee · 2 years
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2: Loss and Growth
Whumptober #2 and #3. @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @avian-american
The road back to the farmhouse is long, and the driveway stretches all the way up the first field. Jhazel drives with one hand on the wheel as they approach, the other stretching out of the window of her little car. Her ringed hand drags through the air as though through water, feeling the resistance of the magical ward around the property, strengthening in its pull as she persists. Through a push from her own power, she slips through, drawing a connection with the earth magic already within the wards.
Her mother arrives soon after. Amina has muddy hands from her work in the field, but straightens up as though the toil doesn’t trouble her, even as she approaches sixty. Earth witches age slow, and she strides across to them with no sign of fatigue. Sharp eyes take in Spencer in the passenger seat, slumped down with their hooded jacket around their ears.
“You embarrassed them,” she says flatly, when Jhazel has gotten out.
Jhazel frowns, displeased. “I didn’t try to. I offered to mentor them. I don’t know why they’re like that.”
“You’re pouting.” Amina smiles a knowing smile, reaching out to pat Jhazel’s back. “You know what teenagers are like.”
“No,” Jhazel replies sharply. She half-turns to glare across the sunny field at the bare earth newly seeded with spring crops. “I don’t,” she adds unnecessarily.
Amina hesitates, following her gaze to the wildflower meadow. “I’m sorry. It was meant as encouragement. She isn’t Denny. You can do this.”
Jhazel glares for a moment more, eye shimmering crimson, but when the car door opens, she snaps back to normal to look over. Spencer climbs out awkwardly, looking between them. “Can I go inside? If you want to talk about me?”
“I’m sorry,” Jhazel says quickly, her face already offering an understanding smile. “Of course you can. I was going to go to the grove, but I can wait until you’re ready.”
Spencer looks between them, and seems to decide they are too tired for whatever it is that has made them tense. “Okay.” They trudge up the garden path and through the green farmhouse door, likely to be greeted by Kazesh, who will make up for her wife and step-daughter’s attitude by making Spencer more tea and some biscuits.
Turning back to Amina, Jhazel finds she is already looking, her eyes dark and surrounded by wrinkles, but almost as fierce as Jhazel’s own. No trace of red is needed to give them light.
“I’m alright, mum,” Jhazel tells her, knowing well what the look means. She sighs, and when Amina moves forward, she falls into the hug. The arms around her are warmer than the best blanket, and much warmer than the morning air whisking over the fields. “I’m fine,” she mumbles. “I’ve just been looking after them both for so long, and… I want to teach. I want to nurture. Spencer…doesn’t want that.”
“Spencer needs time, ‘Zel.” Amina leans back to kiss her forehead, and a smudge of magic stays in the kiss, spreading over Jhazel’s skin with the warmth and safety of home, helping her relax. “A month locked in a lab for having magic isn’t going to make them keen to learn. Go to the grove, see if they can sense the growth. They need her more than they need us.”
Jhazel takes a deep breath, and musters her inner strength. She straightens, all the way up to her five foot three, and squares her shoulders. She is the custodian of the dryad forest Argenwood. There is a dryad here who needs her help.
-
Spencer drops to their knees immediately next to the silver-brown tree trunk, reaching out to lay a hand along the growth that distends it in the shape of a torso and head. “She can speak,” they explain, breathless from the short walk. “She’s not…big enough yet I don’t think. To pull free.”
Do they even know, Jhazel wonders, how unusual that insight was? Most visitors to the forest don’t think anything of the irregular shapes and bumps on the trees. She has a good student here. “That’s true. But we can help with that.”
She crouches down next to them, rolling back her sleeves. “Reach into the soil here,” she instructs, pointing to an area between the roots where the dark soil is looser. She has done this several times already, but Spencer has more to offer. “Can you feel the pull?”
Spencer pushes their hands down into the earth and immediately frowns. “Like suction. Really faint.”
“That’s her. Silver Birch.” She uses the nickname Spencer gave the dryad, despite wondering if it will still be needed when the forest healed. Dryads have never had individual identities before. “She needs strength. In time, she will be able to draw it from the ground, but we can speed things up by giving her some of ours.”
She expects Spencer to ask, what is it they have that the dryad needs? How does it come from the ground? They presumably don’t know how magic lives in every part of nature, building over time in forests, in oceans, in deserts, deeper and stronger the less things change. Perhaps they know that in theory, as Kazesh’s wards are powered by the distant potency of the stars, but do they know that the sun, the moon, the very sky has power?
They don’t ask. They simply say, “How?”
She slips her own fingers into the soil. “Take a deep breath. Try to feel the magic in your hands. It runs in you like blood. Let the pull take some, just your hands. Let it flow.”
Spencer’s pale brow scrunches as they try to feel out their own power. Jhazel knows from her visits that what they lost from being isolated from nature in the lab has been regrown, enough that they should be able to feel it. Her own hands buzz with magic from her time at home in the forest, the dryad’s gift stronger than ever in their desire to feed their absent child. Silver Birch is a slim young tree still, but the knobbly growth on her side is clearly a body struggling to fully emerge.
She releases the power held in her and the buzzing runs out into the earth, like static tingles where she makes contact. The dryad’s host tree absorbs it all with hungry need. Dryads are not made to grow in foreign soil, but with this power, it feels more like home.
Spencer gasps softly, and Jhazel feels another magic join her own. This, too, is dryadic strength, returned to the earth. “That’s it,” she says, her voice low and resonant with power. She can feel her hair moving of its own accord, stirred by the faraway breeze of Argenwood. “Stop when you feel tired. Pull your hands back.”
Spencer’s breathing is laboured, but with excitement, not fear. “I can feel it,” they whisper, staring at the tree before them. “It’s, it’s Silb. It’s hers, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Let it go back to her. She will return it to you in time.”
Spencer gasps again, and suddenly pulls their hands back, brown with soil and clenched tight. “Oh. I felt – it stopped.”
Jhazel hums, keeping her hands down, feeling the pull reach past her fingers and up her arms. “That’s good. Rest, and I’ll take care of what’s left.”
Spencer falls back to watch, and Jhazel lets her eyes close. Silver Birch needs this power more than she does right now. It’s like blood being drawn to feel the magic leave her, but she encourages it out, even as it starts to flow sluggishly. The tug reaches her chest, pulls on her heart. She pushes it on, forcing it out of her, the magic of the forest and then her own natural reserve. They’re so close, so nearly finished with the regrowth, enough that Silver Birch can take form, speak, think, act, live.
Her chest tightens as her body reacts, afraid of how much she’s losing. She feels her brows pull together in a stubborn frown. She can give more. Spencer has suffered enough, Silver Birch has suffered, the forest has suffered, and she was the custodian, the protector, she was meant to keep the outside world from interfering.
Her head falls forward and her hair settles, and her eye settles back into brown without a flash of red. She has given everything. Any more, and she’ll be on the brink of death.
“S…Silb?”
“Spencer Drew.”
Jhazel’s head jerks up to look straight into circular yellow eyes like pebbles in the whorls of a smooth, wooden face. She pulls back, hands coming free of the pull at last, and a wave of dizziness lands her on the ground.
Spencer doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re back.”
“Back,” Silver Birch agrees. “Went to grow.”
The sparks clear from Jhazel’s eyes and she looks up at the tree now as tall as a person, and the dryad half-separated from its trunk like a centaur. There’s an arm, now, twiggy and weak. Spencer is gripping it like a child holding a parent’s hand.
“You uh, you sure did grow. Did Jhazel do that?”
The bare head turns with a creak to regard Jhazel. “Jhazel was forest. Spencer Drew was forest.”
“I’m not…”
The eyes return to them. “You are.”
“Silb—”
“Spencer Drew,” the dryad interrupts, and Jhazel’s eyes widen to hear the sharp tone. It sounds like Spencer’s own intonation. “You are forest. I hear you talking before, when I grow. Forest in your breath, forest in your words, forest in you. Me, in you. No telling me sorry.”
It sounds just like Spencer rambling about how they’d ended up here.
“Now, we are here. You are my human. Human of the forest.”
Jhazel glanced at Spencer, who was red-faced. “Your… How? Just because I got a bit of your magic?”
“Forest magic, forest human. Forest home. You want me to forgive Spencer Drew. For watching them take, in the lab. I want Spencer Drew to forgive me. For watching them take from you.”
Spencer’s chin pulls back. “Why would I—?”
“Humans take from humans. Humans take from you.”
“She’s saying it was worse for you,” Jhazel realises.
“Worse for you,” Silver Birch echoes in firm agreement. Her voice is wispy but her words are crisp. “Spencer Drew, forgive hurt from me.”
“You…You didn’t…”
“From me in lab. Humans hurt you to take from me.”
“Because of you?” Jhazel offers the words.
“Humans hurt you because of me,” Silver Birch agrees again. “My forest in you. Hurt you to take forest, not hurt me. Can’t take forest from me.”
Spencer sniffles, their hands pressed to their face under their glasses. “I didn’t… I didn’t – I just wanted you to, to be safe, they took your arm and your eye and—”
“I grow.”
“Stop it!” they snap, hands dropping to glare at her through tears. “Stop it, I’m not – I-I might be magic, okay, but it’s not important. I would’ve done what I did anyway. Stayed with you, stuck up for you. They would’ve kicked me out at least for that. I’m glad they locked me up so I could still see you.”
They’re still clutching the thin branch that acted as Silver Birch’s arm, and Jhazel notices that the ends of it are circled around Spencer’s hand. Silver Birch’s eyes haven’t left theirs.
“You, looking at me,” the dryad says softly, the whisper of a breeze through treetops.
“I am looking at you,” Spencer affirms. “So stop, stop seeing failures in me. Just. Let’s just grow. You’re back, you’re – almost whole. Grow a bit more, and… Jhazel is teaching me, I’m doing magic. I’ll grow too.”
“We grow.”
“Yeah,” Spencer sighs.
“Yeah,” Silver Birch echoes.
Jhazel takes the opportunity to slip away, to give them privacy.
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some-kindofgnome · 4 years
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Kinktober #19: Paperback Romance: Eijirou Kirishima & Katsuki Bakugou
You, Kirishima, and Bakugou have some things to figure out. Luckily, you’ve got somewhere quiet to do it. 
Characters: Eijirou Kirishima/Katsuki Bakugou/f!Reader
Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, awkward threesome, the softest bullshit you’ve ever seen
Notes: I... am not sure how I feel about this one. But we’ll see. I think I should change Kinktober to Mushtober, because as it turns out, I have a squishy heart. Today’s prompt was “Threesome,” and I had every intention of making this one filthy, I really did. But then this came out. There’s also, like, not a whole lot of talking in this one. Idk. It’s different.
Whoops. 
Kinktober Masterlist
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The breeze is salted velvet on your cheeks as you race along the oceanside highway.
Bakugou’s been driving for the last hour and a half. You’re in the passenger’s seat and Kirishima’s stretched out in the back with the windows open. The ocean stretches brilliant and navy out the driver’s side. The distant cry of gulls backs the slow thump of the breeze past your window.
If this were any other road trip, you’d be blasting tunes. You and Kirishima would be singing your hearts out. Bakugou would probably still be driving, but he’d look a whole lot grumpier than he does right now.
For the last eighty miles, you’ve all been… quiet. It’s like the reality of this trip is finally starting to sink in.
Kirishima and Bakugou have been your best friends since high school. You crammed together, partied together, graduated together. You were the first one that they told when they’d decided to become more to each other.
You remembered that day above any other. The way your stomach dropped out. You’d known, you’d always known, but they’d never made it real before. For as long as you’d known each other it had been the three of you. But from that point on, it was them and you.
You’d never been able to pinpoint why that bothered you so much. Why your heart crunched just a little smaller, whenever they had to be a couple around you.
But on the night that it fell into place, it fell fast. You’d been in love with them, both of them, for as long as you had known them. It wasn’t enough that they had one another. You wanted to have them, too. Those feelings that had been bottled up for so long came spilling out one night, among tears and wine and bitter words that you’d wished you could take back.
But buried among all that bitterness and jealousy was the truth. They felt for you. The way you did for them. They’d only ever wanted it to be the three of you. But that gap felt unbridgeable.
Even now, just a few days later, it’s growing wider between you in the silence of the car.
You’d decided to take off for the weekend, drive somewhere remote where you could remove yourself from the prying eyes of the public and just figure everything out. That somewhere turned out to be a beach house well out of the city. You’d been on the road for hours.
The afternoon’s waning into evening by the time you pull up to it. It’s just as cute as the booking site promised- all whitewashed boards and sage green shutters- with a little path winding its way from the back porch to the ocean.
Kirishima- who, by this point, is just waking up from his backseat nap- speaks first.
“Wow, it’s cute!”
You and Bakugou both give a little sigh. He kills the engine, and you both step out and slam the doors shut at the same time. You’re both taking in the sight of the little cottage, and then you both peek over the roof of the car to glance at one another.
You skirt your gaze past him to the ocean beyond. It’s killing you that things have become so awkward between you. But that���s what this weekend is for- knocking down all those walls, all at once. Kirishima and Bakugou tell you that as soon as they had broken down their barriers, everything came naturally.
You’re just hoping it works the same way for you.
Bakugou cooks you dinner that night, and he’s still far more stoic than usual. Though his explosive temper has calmed down since your teenage days, he’s never been very good at expressing himself through words. You taste it in his cooking, though. When the three of you cluster together around one end of the dining table, things start to feel normal again.
Until all three of you volunteer eagerly to pitch in with the cleanup.
Finally, the kitchen is sparkling, the sun has set, and there’s nothing else to think about but the bedroom upstairs and the single king bed that the three of you have promised to share.
“Hey,” you speak up. Bakugou looks up from the paperback he’s been thumbing through. Kirishima peers inquisitively over the top of his phone at you. They both look so honestly interested in you it makes your heart break.
“Listen.” You can’t take the silence anymore. Silence isn’t you. Any of you. You’ve been able to talk to them about anything, for as long as you’ve ever known them.
But this is different.
“I just wanna know.” You scrape your fingers through your hair. Your cheeks are hot. You’re clamming up, something you’ve been doing far too often around them lately.
“Are either of you half as fucking nervous about this as I am?”
For a breath, there’s silence.
Then laughter.
You don’t know who started it but you’re finishing it, peals of relieved mirth bubbling from your chest. Kirishima crosses the room in an instant, climbing into the recliner, smothering you with a tight hug.
“We couldn’t sleep a wink last night,” he chuckles into your shoulder. Bakugou bristles across the room, but he doesn’t disagree.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Let me take you upstairs.”
“Us,” gruffs Bakugou from across the room. Slowly, he shuts his book and rises from the couch. “Let us take you upstairs.”
You sit on the edge of the gigantic bed. The windows upstairs are all open with gauzy curtains fluttering inward, crisp cotton sheets damped down by the humid sea air.
Kirishima kisses you first. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but you’re far from used to it. His lips cover yours so gently it makes you ache. Especially when Bakugou grabs you by the jaw and pulls you to him, and his kiss is insistent and rousing and you feel yourself easing into it already.
They know each other’s bodies well. Seeing them together is like paging the worn paper of a well-loved book; spine creased, corners folded.
You’d like to know how this story ends.
You tumble into the sheets in a messy tangle of limbs. You’re not sure what to do with your hands as Bakugou licks into your teeth and Kirishima’s trailing kisses down your chest. His forehead bumps Bakugou’s thigh as he works to push your clothes away. You have to stop three times to untwist yourselves before you’re all stripped down to your underwear.
But they want this with you. They want to be all of you again.
You climb boldly between Bakugou’s thighs, cupping and stroking his thick cock where it stands out through his undershorts. Kirishima’s behind you, kissing his way down your back and peeling away the last shreds of your modesty.
“I haven’t been with a girl in a while,” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your hip. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
He slides a finger into you from behind, pumping slowly. Below you, Bakugou’s grabbed your hips and holds you fast against him, letting you rock your pleasure into his firm muscles. Kiri’s fingers move earnestly, dipping into your tight heat while his other hand finds the swell of your clit and begins to rub.
“Ah-“ Your voice breaks as your chin falls forward. Bakugou holds you tighter.
“That’s it, sweetness,” he gruffs in your ear. “Let him make you feel it.”
“Kiri,” you whine, “I’m not gonna- I can’t,”
“Go on,” Kirishima whispers against your skin. “You’re so beautiful like this. Y’know that? Let me see you break for me, baby.”
You come hard, as if on command. Your body quakes with pleasure as it races up your spine like a gunshot, tightening your thighs and making you bury your head in the crook of Bakugou’s shoulder as you scream.
They’re looking at one another over your shoulder- you can feel it. And when you stir to life again, Kirishima collapses beside you and Bakugou rolls you into the middle.
It’s complicated and awkward and messy, but the three of you find your pleasure that night. And you fall asleep in the same sweaty tangle of limbs with your boys on either side of you.
As apprehensive as you’ve been, as badly as this scared you for so many years, now that you’ve got it, it feels peaceful as the dawn. This, you, the three of you, is how it always should have been.
And you know nothing will tear your boys from you. Not anymore.
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nugnthopkns · 3 years
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i’ll wait and i’ll listen
word count: 2.1k
warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it
recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap
a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!
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There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.
He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 
Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 
Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 
Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 
Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 
“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”
Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 
“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”
Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”
Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 
☼☼☼☼
You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 
“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 
To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 
“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”
She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 
“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”
You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 
“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”
Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 
Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 
“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 
You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 
The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 
Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”
He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”
Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 
Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 
Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”
Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 
In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”
Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”
In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 
Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 
There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 
“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 
They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 
You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”
“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”
It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 
☼☼☼☼
“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”
You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”
A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”
You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.
“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 
You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”
The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 
☼☼☼☼
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btsmosphere · 4 years
Text
Snowstorm | MYG
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~summary:
Strange things happen in the woods when you return home for Christmas. And why does your mum insist you stay away from Min Yoongi?
Yoongi x female reader
~word count: 6k
~magic au, jack frost au, childhood friend au, angst, fluff
Rating: pg
Warnings: overbearing parent, rumours and gossip, swearing, storms and bad weather
~a/n: this is a repost, I put this up this morning but for some reaason it hasn’t shown up in the tags so I am trying again. ~original a/n: got this one out just in time... this is my fic for November keyword ‘magic’ for @thebtswritersclub​!! This started from the bingo square ‘jack frost’, one I wasn’t sure whether to write, but it was perfect for a magic au, so I hope you enjoy it! Keep a lookout for more festive fics from me over December,, I’ve just realised quite how many fics I have to find time to write among my end of term essays yAy
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They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
It’s not as young as it once was, but neither are you. You come back to it every year, these woods. Someone needs to look after it. Not like you do that, but at least taking the time to come back and see it makes you feel a little better.
Maybe you aren’t looking after it, but at least you’re looking.
Being home from college is… fun. Mostly.
You love your family, but you sure as hell love these woods too, for when you’ve had enough. There’s one tree that forks into two, right at the heart, that you cried under countless times throughout your childhood.
Now it’s more for nostalgia. Coming home for the long college holidays, you’ve grown up and your family let you do your thing, so you don’t generally have a need to sob your heart out in the wilderness anymore.
Wow, this is making your childhood sound really bad. It wasn’t.
But whenever it was, the woods were there.
Winter is making itself felt now, air slowly numbing your face and fingers. You trail them across the bark of a tree you pass before digging them reluctantly into your coat pockets.
This tree doesn’t look too healthy. Though it still felt normal, the bark is thinning. You wonder if it will live to see new leaves in the spring.
Overhead, the dappled grey sky bears a heavier shadow. You should probably be getting back soon. Making your way, without hurrying, towards the edge of the trees, you trod over their forgotten leaves as they faded into the ground.
Soon the soft carpet of the forest petered out and you found yourself on the familiar roads that led back to your house.
No one else really seemed to be about apart from you. Except for whoever that was that just came around the corner. Hold on-
Is Min Yoongi back here? Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod-
Sucking in a deep breath, you did your utmost to avoid staring at him, eyes trailing along the ground instead. As you drew closer to each other, your grew heartbeat louder in your ears.
Now that wasn’t fair. You were meant to be over this.
But of course that was never the case.
Min Yoongi had grown up here too, a boisterous child that grew into a reserved teenager. What he was doing with himself now, you had no idea, but what was important is that he was here right now. Because maybe the monster crush you harboured for him had never really gone away.
In school, you two had been friends. Not the closest, but you would hang out together, always too shy to really talk. Now the course of life had taken you two apart; you weren’t sure you had spoken to him since you were sixteen.
Okay, he was only steps away now. You had to stay calm.
Act natural. Pretend you haven’t seen him.
Wait, no. That would be impossible. There’s only the two of you on this road, how could you not notice him?
You didn’t want to come off as rude if you ignored him.
In your panic, you looked up to find his eyes trained on you already. While your brain was busy short-circuiting, you settled for a small smile and a quick wave.
For one mortifying moment, you thought he didn’t recognise you at all. His eyebrows remained slightly creased, but just as you were nearly past him, his eyes widened.
“Y/N!”
The wide smile that had taken over his face retreated into a small, shy one as you stopped.
“Hey, Yoongi,” you smiled back.
“What are you up to?” he asked, glancing briefly to the end of the road you had just come from. Towards the forest.
“Just out for a walk,” you explained, “getting away from my family for a bit.”
“I can understand that,” he laughed quietly, scratching absently behind one ear.
“I didn’t realise you were back here,” you prompted after he trailed off, “it’s good to see you again.”
“Yeah, and you,” he nodded, “it’s strange being back sometimes, but it’s good you’re here too.”
Despite the cold, your felt heat in your cheeks. What did he just say?
“I-I mean,” he stuttered, “like, it’s weird, when things are different than you remember them , and so it’s nice when you see someone familiar… yeah.”
“Yeah, yeah, I totally get you,” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “like the forest, it’s not the same anymore-“
“Not the same,” he grimaced, then froze, realising you spoke in unison.
Wide eyed, laughter bubbled from both of you
“Are you going there now?” you asked, “it’s a bit cold isn’t it?”
As the two of you had stood talking, the light had steadily drained from the sky.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he smirked.
Surprised by his sudden confidence, you just smiled.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I should probably be getting home, though.”
“Sure,” he nodded quickly.
“See you.”
Glancing at the inky sky, you turned to leave, hands delving deeper into the warmth of your coat pockets, when Yoongi cleared his throat behind you.
“Um…”
Now a few steps away from him, you looked over your shoulder.
“We should catch up some time. Properly. If-if you’d like.”
“Yeah, sure,” you smiled widely.
“Nice. I’ll, um, see you soon.”
He gave you a wave, smile dancing on his lips. The moment you turned away, you bit your lip, trying to contain your grin. Practically bouncing your way home, your cheeks were burning by the time you reached your front door.
Stiff fingers fiddling with the key, at last you let yourself in.
No doubt hearing you stomping your shoes on the doormat, your mum came around the corner.
“You were gone a while,” she observed.
“Yeah, bumped into Yoongi on the way back,” you begrudgingly explained.
“Min Yoongi?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I remember when you used to have a silly crush on that boy!” she laughed. Kicking your shoes off, you rolled your eyes but followed her through to the kitchen.
“His family’s always been very strange though,” she continued, “they don’t really talk to anyone. Half the time I don’t even know if there’s anyone at home.”
“You’re spying on their house now?” you joked.
“Well, when they’re shut in all summer, you can’t help wondering,” she defended, “very strange, the lot of them… you would do well to stay away from them, Y/N.”
“But-“
“You’re not even friends with him, why should it be an issue?”
“You’re right,” you sighed.
It was easier to let it slide.
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They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
Walking between the ones that still stand, Yoongi’s mind is still full of you. At least someone else still saw this place. Still cared.
And truth be told, he still cared about you. A chance to see the forest and a chance to speak to you were what kept bringing him back. It would be easy to find another forest somewhere, some wide open space, wilder than this.
But there was a soft spot in his heart for his hometown.
Raising a hand above his head, he sent the last few leaves clinging to a branch spiralling down to the floor on a gust of wind. As he lowered his arm, he let his fingers trail across the bark, leaving frost in their wake.
It was hard, having to hide. His mother told him he couldn’t get close to anyone here. Anyone that didn’t know.
Even playing with you as five-year-olds had been crossing the line, apparently.
On the ground, the leaves cleared from his path. The wind blew colder, skeletal branches rattling together as clouds knitted closer together above.
At the heart of the forest, there was a tree whose trunk forked into two. Climbing nimbly up into the gap, he settled himself and planted his palms against the bark.
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“Y/N, go and fetch the bin. It’s frosty again.”
Without questioning, you did as your mother said. She was right about the frost. Unlike her, though, you adored it. Just outside your doorstep, you stopped to stare at the thin coating of white that covered the street.
Every house, every garden, every car was painted with the delicate brush strokes of winter.
Once you had tugged the bin up the drive, you found your mother still talking inside.
“Thanks, love,” she smiled, placing a bowl in front of you, “gosh, I can’t wait for summer again. I can’t stand it’s so cold all the time.”
Instead of voicing your disagreement, you hummed noncommittally as you poured yourself some cereal.
Maybe you would go back to the forest later. It was all you daydreamed about as you munched on your breakfast before retreating to your room.
Until someone knocked on the door.
What you hadn’t seen was the fist hovering over wood, raising and lowering countless times before it finally sounded through your house. Frowning, you stood from your bed and peeked around your window frame.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
The distinct sound of the door swinging open downstairs snapped you from your reverie, frozen on the spot. Shutting your gaping mouth, you looked around, panicked. Your mother was speaking.
You crossed your room in no less than two strides, throwing the door open and speeding down the stairs.
“What brings you here?” your mum was saying as you dashed up behind her.
“Hi Yoongi!” you exclaimed, panting slightly, “thanks mum.”
But of course she couldn’t take the hint. As you waited with bated breath for her to leave the two of you alone, she just looked slowly between you instead.
“You’re here to see my daughter?”
Yoongi swallowed hard under her stare.
“Yes, he is, mum,” you spoke, tone strained.
Really, sometimes it was like you never left. You felt like you had been transported straight back to your school years, asking your mum for permission to go out.
“And we’re going out,” you said firmly when greeted with silence.
Grabbing your coat, you slipped past her.
“Strange to see him out,” she muttered.
Praying Yoongi didn’t hear her sly comment, you hastily shut the door.
“Sorry,” you grimaced, “where do you fancy?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Following his lead, you fell into step, heading away from your house.
“I see why you prefer the trees for company.”
Now that startled a laugh out of you. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you stared at Yoongi walking beside you. He didn’t seem fazed, suddenly confident again beside you, hands buried in his hoodie as he kicked his feet walking along.
Lost quickly in conversation, you walked together until you found him leading you towards a small café.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, hot chocolate?” you answered timidly.
Smiling, he disappeared inside and reappeared very soon with two steaming takeaway cups.
“Thanks,” you breathed, taking one warm cup from his fingers and cradling it between your own.
“Didn’t want you to get cold.”
And it certainly did help. Of course you next walked down towards the woods, without a word passing between you about your destination. With the warmth flowing through you, you were perfectly content to keep going through the chilly air as you ditched the cups in a bin.
“Do you remember when Tae got stuck in that tree?” Yoongi commented.
Looking to where he gestured, you laughed.
“It was that one?”
“Yep, it’s still got that branch snapped off,” he pointed.
“Oh, yeah,” you giggled, “that feels so long ago now, doesn’t it?”
Sighing, he took another sip.
“Yeah. It does.”
Silence settled for a short moment, only your muffled steps sounding in the woods.
“Do you know if the others ever come back here?” you wondered aloud.
“Haven’t seen any of them,” he shrugged.
Way back when, there was a huge group at school, which was how you grew connected to Yoongi. There was still a group chat buried somewhere in your phone, but you hadn’t heard from most of them in a long time.
“It’s just us then,” you mused.
“I guess it is,” Yoongi said, a large smile spreading onto his face.
Then he halted, stooping down to the floor. Beside him, you watched him in confusion.
Until he sprung up, a handful of fallen leaves suddenly finding their way into your face.
“Yah!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up too late.
As the last one fell from your spluttering face, you found the shape of Yoongi several trees away, running. Mouth falling open, you instantly gave chase, quickly reaching down for a bundle of your own leaves.
“Min Yoongi!” you yelled, a reply reaching you in the form of his breathless laughter.
Pushing yourself on, your feet pounded towards him. He slowed, going over a slope, giving you opportunity enough to catch up, launching the leaves at his back.
“Argh!” he laughed, arms flapping from beneath the flurry of leaves.
But you couldn’t revel in your revenge for long, as another faceful of leaves was booted towards you. You only caught a glimpse of his gummy smile for a moment before he saw your glare and bolted again.
A gust of wind hindered you pursuit, throwing more soggy leaves at you.
Up ahead, Yoongi was scrambling up a tree. Just as you reached it, he seated himself on a branch, out of your reach. Breathless with laughter, you still tried, flinging leaves up in the air towards him.
They barely reached his feet, swinging above you, instead floating for a pathetic moment before falling right back on top of you.
Shaking them from your head, you heard Yoongi’s loud laughter above you.
Looking up, you were met with an enormous gummy smile as he slipped back down the tree, dropping deftly onto the ground, shoulders still shaking with laughter.
“Sorry,” he panted.
He reached a hand out towards you then. Frozen in surprise, you watched as his thumb met your nose, quickly swiping across it. Cold lingered there as his hand came away, a slight smudge of mud wiped on it.
Self consciously rubbing your nose yourself, you let out a chuckle, a shiver passing through you only a moment later.
“Shit, are you cold?” his smile faltered.
“It’s okay,” you assured, “we’ve just been running about. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he frowned slightly.
Turning away a little, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Going with him, you two headed across the woods to the other edge, where you could look over your town as it fell away into countryside. The sky was striped with clouds, yellowish light dimming behind them.
This felt good.
You’ve always liked this forest, hated sharing it with anyone else. But you didn’t mind with Yoongi. After so long, it was odd how quickly you felt comfortable. How fast your feelings resurfaced.
And you couldn’t help wondering…
“Hey, Yoongi?”
“Hmm?”
“Was this… meant to mean anything?”
“What do you mean?” he turned towards you.
You swallowed. Fuck. You might have just shoved your foot in it.
“Er, well, I mean, like, a date or something?” you spoke nervously.
The moment his eyebrows raised, you were certain you had made a mistake.
“Well, no…”
Oh shit.
“But it can be.”
You blinked.
“Say that again?”
“It can be,” he chuckled, warm smile making another appearance.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I heard you right,” you said, stunned, turning back to the view. Then you glanced back at him. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to a date?”
“Nope,” he shook his head.
“With me?”
A chuckle responded. “Yes, Y/N. With you.”
In the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement. But then it stopped. Looking around, you saw Yoongi return his hand to his pocket, casting his eyes down.
By the time you were both approaching your driveway again, it was forgotten. You were practically glowing.
Until you saw the figure of your mother in the front window.
The moment she laid eyes on you, she was gone from the window and appeared in the doorway instead.
“Shit, sorry,” you muttered, sharing a glance with Yoongi, “this has been really fun…”
Getting the message, he sent you a smile that squeezed his eyes.
Then he slowed beside you and you carried on, pulling away with a smile of your own.
As you drew closer, your mum stepped out and down the steps.
“Are you alright? Where did you go?” she asked straight away.
She really was worried about this, huh?
“Mum, it’s fine,” you frowned, unable to help the look over your shoulder, “we just went for a walk, what’s the problem?”
If this was her reaction to you spending time with the guy platonically, you thought it safer to leave out the other details for now.
“I told you, something’s not right with him,” she hissed, clearly trying to keep a low voice. Not that she was successful.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” you urged.
Glancing back just before you closed the door, you saw Yoongi turning away. You longed to reach for him, call out to him…
The door clicked shut.
In front of you, your mother stood with folded arms.
“What’s going on?” you asked.
“I don’t know about him, Y/N,” she shook her head, “since he was a child, he’s always been… different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whenever there was an accident on the playground, he always seemed to be around. All of us parents knew, it’s why I told you to be careful with him.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Vaguely, you recalled her saying something like that, but you must have been very small. Either way, perhaps you did stray away from him on the playground.
“No one ever knew for sure, but there were rumours,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead, “maybe he was just troublesome and liked pushing other kids over, but then his family… they never tried to fit in here.”
“And the town gossip has you this worried?” you asked, incredulous.
“I was pleased you were staying away from him in school,” she glared at you, “so where’s this come from? I hoped that silly crush was over.”
“If I was in trouble I would tell you, and you know that,” you stepped forwards, “but I can be with whoever I like! I’m not in school anymore, and Yoongi’s a grown adult too.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards.
“So you’re with him now?”
“…maybe, but what does it matter? It’s what I want to do, mum, I’ll be fine.”
Met with your pleading eyes, she merely glared back, arms tightly folded. She exhaled steadily through her nose.
“Just come and have dinner.”
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It started snowing.
You knew your mum wouldn’t want you to go outside in that. But maybe that made it all the more appealing.
She wasn’t over it, and you knew it. Sly comments kept coming your way over dinner, riling you up. Why was she letting schoolground gossip get in the way of you and Yoongi?
By the end of dinner, you were reaching the end of your tether.
If you could just go for a walk, cool off. Literally. Stepping outside, you already hugged your coat a little bit tighter around you.
Just to the forest and back, not far beyond the streetlights, then come back. But as your feet stomped through the newly settling snow, stray flakes catching in your hair, your scowl never lifted.
Your mum had never been too controlling, so why was she so riled up about this one thing? And something that was so important to you? Since school you had had a crush on Yoongi, all those years hanging onto every smile, every laugh, and now something was finally coming true.
Of course that wouldn’t be allowed. Of course, in her book, a bad child grew into a bad adult.
It was true that this town could be very self-contained and you were well used to news circulating. No wonder you hadn’t seen Yoongi back here before. You wanted this to be your chance.
Head turned down against the oncoming snow, you blinked cold flakes from your eyelashes. It was thicker now, blurring in front of you when you looked up.
A gust of wind threaded its fingers through your hair, biting across your slightly damp face. Shoulders hunching, you tried to look around you. Acting of their own accord, your feet had carried you to the forest.
You should head back.
Turning on the spot, you squinted through the darkness for the streetlights at the edge of the trees.
But darkness surrounded you.
Stomach dropping, you rubbed your hands together in front of you. Definitely should have worn gloves.
The white that now coated the forest floor and its branches reflected the precious little moonlight that could reach you here, letting you know you were among the larger trees. Your mind whirled with panic almost as fast as the snow falling around you.
When a shiver shook your frame, you knew you had to move.
If you picked a direction, you would surely find a way back eventually. The forest wasn’t that big, was it?
Maybe they had cut down some trees, but it turned out the woodland was not small. At least, it didn’t feel that way when cold water was seeping through your jeans and clinging to your face and hair. Try as you might to carve out a straight path, the snowstorm was growing, wind forcing you to lower your head.
Still, all you could see was darkness, the ghosts of trees looming from behind the blizzard in the air.
Sniffling, you tried to fight off the panicked tears threatening to spill. This had all been a bad idea. You just wanted to get home.
But unbeknownst to you, someone else was in the woods too.
Not many trees away, perched in his usual spot, Yoongi’s palms met the gnarled bark as he channelled his energy. The storm fell peacefully around him. Breathing deeply, he felt himself letting go.
He knew what this town thought of him. He hadn’t been careful enough, like his parents had told him to. He just never thought that anyone would still remember, not least your mother.
But he couldn’t claim she was wrong. Being Jack Frost came with its dangers, its responsibilities.
And he should have known better. He just wanted you, badly enough that he decided to go for it against his better judgement.
His sadness made itself known in storms like this: not violent or noisy, just cold.
As the white flakes filled the air, he looked out across the darkness of the forest. Wind tugged gently at his white hair but the snow didn’t touch him, evaporating before it hit his shoulders.
He called another gust of wind, threading it through the air, across the land.
When it reached him, it carried something with it.
His eyes opened, looking around through the storm to see where it had come from. It was normal for the branches to rattle, for animals to scurry home, but that wasn’t either sound. It sounded like a person. And not a happy one.
No one else should be out here.
Turning his head left and right, he finally made out a shadowy shape a few trees away.
Quickly and quietly, he slid off his perch, obscuring his body with the trunk of the tree. Around him, the snow calmed a little, drifting calmly once more.
As the person walked closer, he saw them wipe a hand across their cheek. And that sound came again. Were they… crying?
Louder this time, and finally they stepped into a lighter patch…
His eyes widened. What the hell were you doing out here? Assessing you with a flick of his eyes, he knew you must be freezing.
When you stopped suddenly, turning around as your shoulders slumped, he had to force himself to stay behind his tree.
Briefly wetting his lips with his tongue, he looked towards the shortest way out. Why weren’t you going that way? Instead, you were stumbling off in the opposite direction, looking to the ground.
“No,” he muttered urgently, head darting between you and the right path.
Then he made a snap decision.
Pursing his lips, he called up a gust of wind with a quirk of his hand, stopping you in your tracks as it collided with you forcefully. With wide eyes, you whipped around as the wind charged through the forest, carving a winding channel through the trees.
And on the path it tracked, the snow stopped, hovering in stasis along the sides as if lighting the way.
Not daring to breathe, Yoongi studied your face carefully as you stared at the space path he had created. Slowly coming to your senses, you turned your head. He ducked back behind the trunk, breaths falling shallow from his lips.
The snow suspended in the air waited with him until crunching footsteps met his ears.
Peering back out, he watched your form retreating through the woods, perfectly framed between the trees as you trod the right path.
He watched you go, knowing what he had to do.
The snow fell thicker.
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Yoongi would come around soon. The day after your little escapade into the storm, he hadn’t shown his face. But that was fine. It would be weird to come back the day after your first… whatever it was. Right?
But today, he would come.
And when he did, you would make sure you got his number. In a town like this, he could easily come knocking, like he had the other day, but you were sick of waiting around like this.
All day you had been restless, failing to keep yourself from the window as you hoped to see him walking down your road. You longed to tell him about what you had seen in the woods that night.
It had taken you a while to decide you hadn’t dreamt it. But the chills running though you and the damp clothes on your radiator said otherwise. Sure, you had always felt a connection with the woods, but you never expected them to do something in return.
That was what happened, though. They had shown you the way home through the storm.
Last night, you had braved the cold to go there again. The snow lay harmlessly on the ground by now, but you had still kept your wits about you and gone before dark.
Nothing.
Maybe it would just be your little secret.
Or yours and Yoongi’s, if he ever turned up.
The urge to look out of the window returned, and you fought valiantly. Staring at the ceiling was a lot less productive than staring outside, so eventually you stood.
And gaped.
He was actually there!
Right on your driveway, biting his lip as he looked up at your house.
Or maybe…
He was looking at your mum. You stilled, having been ready to race downstairs, but now you watched in horror as your mum marched down the drive.
“Sorry, Yoongi,” you heard, “Y/N isn’t in.”
“Oh, sorry Mrs L/N,” he bowed his head, “I just wanted to talk to her-“
“Well you’ll be doing no such thing,” she snapped, “she won’t be getting mixed up with you. I think you should leave now.”
Hands shaking as they gripped the window frame, you were ready to run out to them, when you heard something in response. It was quiet, so you had to strain to hear it, but when you did you could only stare.
“Could you just… could you tell her that I like her? A lot.”
Your mum scoffed, but as she opened her mouth he continued, looking at the floor.
“-and I won’t be seeing her again. You’re right. I’ll stay away.”
Rooted on the spot, you could only gape as the figures of Yoongi and your mother stood still outside. Then your mum broke the silence.
“Very good.”
“Will you tell her?”
“You should leave,” she said firmly.
Shoulders slumping, he turned away, not even looking back. His footsteps carrying him away were what finally made you move.
“Yoongi!” you shouted, tearing down the stairs as the door slammed.
“Y/N,” your mother’s voice warned.
“What is going on!” you asked desperately, trying to move around her only to be blocked.
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
“No! That’s not true! I heard him-“
“He won’t be seeing you then. It’s for the best.”
“Why?” you cried, tears pricking at your eyes, “what is so wrong with him?”
But instead of an equal retaliation, she heaved a sigh. Blinking furiously, you watched her raise her eyes to meet yours.
“His family… they’ve lived here as long as ours. They’re all strange. Weird things happen. Some sort of… magic. And they don’t mix with us. Never have, but that’s how it should be. They’re not like us, Y/N,” she finished with emphasis.
Meanwhile, a frown had taken over your face.
“That’s- what- that’s ridiculous!” you spluttered, “he’s not magic! And if he is, I don’t care!”
And with that, you pushed past her, tumbling out onto the drive, eyes desperately scanning the bare street.
But you didn’t stop there. Ignoring the defeated calls of your mother, you started running. Yoongi couldn’t have got far; and anyway, you had an idea where he might have gone. You had to catch up. You couldn’t let go of him this easily.
Feet pounding hard on the ground beneath you, you barely noticed the darkening sky above you. Clouds swirled together, looming over your small town.
The wind picked up, throwing your hair back in your face as it tore back and forth across the path. As you dashed at last between the shadows of trees, the floor was practically crawling as leaves tossed themselves along the ground.
Some launched upwards as powerful gusts rushed through the bare branches above, and soon the pummelling of hail joined the rattling of the trees.
Stumbling to a stop deep in the forest, you whirled around, trying to spot Yoongi. Wind continued to assault you, swirling in all directions in the air, trees groaning among the whooshing air.
“Yoongi!” you called at the top of your lungs. Your voice was lost instantly in the cacophony of the storm, stinging hailstones on your cheeks the only response.
Exhaling swiftly, you took off once more, still calling out.
And then you saw him.
Shoulders hunched, his outstretched arms were braced against a tree. Though his head was lowered, you could see the heaving of his chest.
Picking up the pace, you smiled in relief.
“Yoongi!”
Instantly, he sprung away from the tree, head darting around him as he looked for you. But when he met your eyes, they only grew.
And then he was running too.
Away from you.
“Hey! Yoongi!” you shouted after him.
But a roar from the forest drowned you out.
Running faster, hail chucked itself spitefully into your face, the wind surging against you from the darkening sky. Struggling on, you held your hands in front of your face, only lowering them when you trailed to a stop.
Yoongi was nowhere in sight.
Something was wrong. Why was he running away from you?
A loud creak from somewhere above you made you wince. Moving again, you called out Yoongi’s name into the storm.
The hail let up a little as you pressed on, but the raging air only grew more forceful. Creaks and groans from the battered trees surrounded you. Squinting around you, you let your feet stumble on, needing to find him. Among the storm, you could barely hear your thumping footsteps.
An ear-splitting creak made you flinch, head whipping around.
The dark shape of a tree trunk was growing bigger – growing closer.
A blur then, your eyes squeezing shut by instinct, awaiting the crash of the giant hitting the earth.
Nothing.
Cracking your eyelids open, the wind lulled in the air around you, silence buzzing loud in your ears. In front of you, the tree was tilting dangerously, towering directly over you, but caught in mid-air. And holding it up, a colossal sheet of ice, jagged icicles sticking out to one side as if from impact.
You blinked. Let out a breath.
Following the trail of ice, you turned to the side.
There, hand still outstretched, panting slightly, stood Min Yoongi.
“I’m sorry,” he half-whispered.
As you stared blankly back in shock, his eyes flicked back to the tree above you.
“Come here,” he spoke, beckoning you with his other hand.
Obeying, you trod carefully towards him. Once near enough, he gently placed a hand on your sweater-covered arm, guiding you to his side.
As you watched, he lowered his left hand slowly, the wall of ice retracting with it, melting back into the ground. With barely a bump, the tree was lowered to rest.
Returning your eyes gingerly to the boy beside you, your gaze was not returned.
His eyelids shut, lips pressing together as he bowed his head, bringing his arm back to his side at last. He swallowed.
“Y-yoongi?” you whispered.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” he muttered, still not meeting your eyes, “I should never have started anything…”
“But-but I want you!” you protested.
Now he looked at you. He looked at you like you were crazy.
“Did you not see that? What I just did?”
“You saved me.”
A breath.
“But… all the rest? I-I made that tree fall too-”
“The wind made it fall-“
“Y/N,” he stopped you, “your mum is right. I can be dangerous, okay? This storm, that’s me.”
Studying your face carefully, he waited for your reaction.
“Why?”
“It’s always been like this,” he sighed, “I’m… I have storm magic. Winter magic. My family, we’re- I’m… Jack Frost.”
Your eyebrows raised.
“No, but I mean, why the storm? Is something wrong?”
A breathy laugh burst from his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Of course there is! I can’t have you.”
“You don’t have to be scared,” you insisted.
“Don’t you understand? You’re the one who should be scared!” he cried, throwing his arms out.
“No,” you shushed him, stepping forward and slowly reaching out, “you’re scared – of hurting me. You don’t have to be.”
Settling, he watched your hand reach through the air. But as it hovered by his cheek, he pulled away.
“Don’t…”
“Yoongi, I want you.”
“And I want you. But you can’t touch me. I’ll just be cold…”
“Don’t worry,” you smiled.
But as you moved again, his hand came up to grasp your wrist, stopping you.
Then his eye widened, realising what he’d done. But you hadn’t flinched away. Looking at your hands held together, his mouth formed ghosts of words he never spoke, not knowing what to say.
“See?” you encouraged, “it’s not cold.”
Wonder-filled eyes rose, meeting your own. Closing the distance between you, he dropped your wrist and lifted both his hands to cup your face instead, touching you softly as if you were made from porcelain.
A breath escaped his lungs, mouth curving into a gummy smile.
Elated, a smile tugged at your own lips.
Then he surged forwards, lips pressing against yours like a starved man. Moving his mouth hungrily over yours, he held your face firmly between his hands as you eagerly kissed him back. Suddenly his hands were unable to get enough, sliding down to your waist and roaming across your back as he pulled you closer.
Equally enthusiastic, you tugged at his shirt, lips keeping up their mind-blowing rhythm until you were both left panting, foreheads pressed together as your breaths turned to laughter between you.
“Screw what this town thinks,” you grinned, “I’m not letting you go after that.”
“Good,” he growled, smirk adorning his face as he darted in for another lingering kiss.
The trees you stood among had watched you both grow, watched you hurt, and now they finally saw you come together, painted by the setting sun in a clear sky.
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kidney9-9 · 4 years
Note
Hi if you are taking reluctant you do a Stucky x teen adopted reader (can you do gender neutral so everyone can read it but if not that’s ok) were the reader is sick and her two dads have to look after the reader but the reader try’s and hides it because they think it’s just a cold and they can look after herself until it turns into the flu (or something more serious) and they pass out and their dad freak out until Steve and Bucky realise what happened. (Sorry of it doesn’t make sense)
Hi anon, hope you like this. I don’t know if you meant Stucky as the Reader’s parents, or another pairing, but I made them the parents. Thank you for sending this in!! 
Masterlist is in bio, requests are open.
Stucky x teen gender neutral!Reader (Fluff/Platonic) Warnings: Sickness  Word Count: 990
Your sniffle was loud as you walked out of your high school, and you stumbled slightly as you glanced up. It was too bright today and for some reason the light was bugging your eyes out too much now, causing you to squint them together. You bumped into some classmates, mumbling apologizes to them as they scoffed back to you.
You walked to where you usually get picked up from and sat down with an exhausted sigh. Today was too much, you were a lot more tired than normal, and you wanted to get some sleep as soon as you got home. You noticed you were sweating more than usual as well, but it was super cold. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turning on some music as you waited for one of your dads or maybe Aunt Natasha to pick you up.
You sneezed into your arm and sniffled again, shaking your head at yourself. You needed to keep it down, it was getting a bit annoying, you reminded. You didn’t need people to worry about you at the Compound or just at home, they always made a hustle out of it, and you didn’t want to see them go through a trouble over something like a cold. You scratched your head with another sigh, barely glancing up when you noticed your car pulled up.
You grinned slightly to the car, hopping into the back. “Hi dad,” You greeted, throwing your bag to the other side of the car weakly, and you held back a cough. Bucky smiled back to you through the mirror, “Hey, how was school?” He asked, while starting to drive again.
You shrugged back after a moment, before you realized he didn’t see you. “Uh, it was fine, got to see another Captain America video about eating healthy foods.” You mentioned, almost chuckling when you remembered your dad’s overexaggerated acting.
“Was it the one with the whole,” Bucky paused quickly, and gestured to his face and made an odd expression. You laughed quietly in the back, starting to feel a bit better since he made you smile. You nodded, “Yeah, that one.” 
The fun quickly stopped though, as you coughed again, and trembled as it turned into a fit, making you feel dizzy. Bucky turned back to you with worry as he stopped the car. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together.
“I swallowed water wrong,” You stuttered out, wiping the tears around your eyes. Again, you really didn’t want him to know you were getting sick, or you were sick. It wasn’t like he or Steve would get sick because of their super soldier serum, which you thought was incredible. 
By the time that you got home, you felt like trash. You were sweating horribly, and your coughing only got worse, making Bucky confused. You kept pushing out random excuses, to get him to focus on the road instead. You practically sprinted to your room, shouting that you needed to start your geography project about mountains. That was true, that you needed to start it, but you were too weak to even press the glue down onto the board. Instead, you collapsed onto your bed with a heavy sigh.
Steve got home hours later, holding the bag of grocies that he bought to make dinner with. He pushed them onto the counter before greeting his husband with a hug and smile, furrowing his eyebrows when he realized you weren’t downstairs. “Where’s Y/n?” He asked Bucky, wondering if you were out in the backyard.
Bucky sighed as he scratched his head, walking up the stairs. “They’re doing their project right now, but it’s been a while.” Steve nodded back, following Bucky to check on their teenager. 
“Y/n? We’re going to make dinner right now.” Steve knocked, opening the door after a few moments. Bucky tilted his head in confusion when he didn’t hear your voice. You were asleep with your legs hanging of the bed, and you were still wearing your shoes and school clothes. 
You groaned sleepily, wiping the snot from your face that pooled around you when you were asleep. “Hi,” You murmured, dizzy sitting up on the bed, and glancing around, muddled at how much time has passed.
Steve smiled back to you, watching as you pushed yourself onto your feet. Then you fell, face first. Bucky and Steve shouted, watching you collapse, and pass out. “Y/n!” Bucky yelled out, rushing to your figure.
Steve rushed behind him, shaking your shoulders. Bucky glanced down to see if you got hurt anywhere. “Call the doctor,” He quickly spoke up, noticing your sweat. Steve pulled out his phone, calling the doctor to come over, while he watched worriedly and in shock as you let out random groans.
When you blinked awake from your faint, you were confused to see both your dads standing over you. “Oh, hey,” You whispered, sighing as you felt your throat burn. Bucky shook his head back to you, “Did you get hurt earlier today? Did someone hurt you?” His questions went on, causing you to bulge your eyes out.
“When did it happen? Where? How? Who?” Steve continued as well, squeezing your hand as you glanced over to him. 
“Huh?” You mumbled, scrunching your face together. “I’m sick,” You explained, coughing into your arm. 
You went on after your coughing, almost shrugging back to them. Bucky and Steve’s faces were more than concerned as you laughed nervously, “I have the flu, got it from Steph, I didn’t want you guys to be mad or upset.” 
“Steph? Wait- Y/n, you have to tell us when these things happen!” Steve protested, shaking his head as Bucky started to speak as well. You interrupted them both with another shrug, “I’ll tell you guys next time, but uh, can I get off the floor? And dinner? Are we having sandwiches again?” 
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tra-sh · 4 years
Text
Paul Lahote x reader (Twilight)
Request from Anon: “Hi, could you maybe do Paul from Twilight where you're friends with the Cullens and Bella makes you meet the wolf pack and Paul imprints? Maybe gets jealous too? Female pronouns please xx" 
Full disclosure, don't hate me, I've never read the books. I saw the first movie when it came out but I' a bit rusty on the characters, so I hope I did them justice! 
Part 2 Here
In the eyes of the world, you were a curious thing.
Well, maybe not the world, but definitely the people around you. After all; not just anyone gets to sit with the Cullen siblings at lunch. Not just anyone can make Rosalie laugh or Edward crack a smile.
There was no doubt that in the eyes of the teenagers of Forks, you were an enigma. There was no shortage of rumors about the strange girl who had wormed her way into the exclusive clique of ethereal beauties. But as frustratingly mysterious as you appeared to be, no one could hate you. You were far too kind and trusting to attract negative attitudes. This is why when Bella made the executive decision to force the Cullen’s into the wolf pack's good graces, she brought you.
Though the Cullen’s weren't allowed in the vicinity, Bella figured that if the wolves could trust you, maybe they could begin to trust your close friends. You were extremely adept at social gatherings and made a point to introduce yourself to everyone in the room. Your general attitude is warm and inviting-- surely this meeting would go smoothly if you were there, Bella hoped. 
Because of this, you found yourself sitting shotgun in Bella's truck as it rattles down the old dirt road. You stole glances at the brunette every so often, noting her tense features. "Relax, Bells," you say after a moment of silence. "I'm sure it'll all be fine." 
You hadn't known her for very long, but any friend of the Cullen's was a friend of yours. The two of you really only spoke when she was at their house looking for Edward or at school. You'd made a point to try to get to know her better over the past few months, to bring her out of her shell ever so slightly.
You watch as her shoulders relax slowly, her eyes never leaving the road. "I'm more worried about Jake's friends," she mumbles. You've never met Sam Uley's gang, but you knew what they were. Or rather, Alice had explained to you what they were.
You hum quietly as you look back out the window at the passing trees. Bella veered off down a slightly overgrown path that barely passed as a road, save for a worn trail of tire marks in the weeds. A wooden house came into view and you could just barely see the glow of a bonfire flickering from the backyard.
You smile to yourself as the truck comes to a halt a few yards away. Bella turns to unbuckle her seatbelt and gives you an anxious smile. "Here's to a good night," she says hopefully. You give her a reassuring grin before turning to exit the vehicle. You couldn't wait to meet everyone. 
You sidle up to Bella as the two of you make your way to the white front door. You take in the peeling paint of the house and garage as you walk. The house is old but gives off a cozy and inviting feeling. The surrounding pine trees almost hide it from view and make you think of a witch's cottage or something from a fairy tale.
You hear the hinges of the door squeak as a tall boy with dark hair and tanned skin greets the two of you. "Hey, you made it!" He looks between the two of you, slightly skeptical of your presence.
You smile and step forward, your hand outstretched.
"Hey, you're Jacob, right? I'm [Name]," you say politely.
Jacob seems pleased and reaches over to shake your hand. "Any friend of Bella is welcome," he says after looking you up and down. He turns away and opens the door wider, allowing the two of you to step inside. 
The house smells of sage and sandalwood and has numerous artifacts lining the walls. You can't help the grin that dances over your lips as you take in your surroundings. Jacob leads you and Bella through the kitchen to the back door.
"Everyone's waiting around the bonfire."
There's a twinkle in his eye when he looks at Bella, and you can't help but wonder if there was something between them at one point. No wonder Edward didn't want to come, you muse. 
As you step outside into the lush backyard you're greeted by a few nonchalant 'hello's and silent nods. You're not sure if they're directed at you or Bella, but you smile all the same.
Five boys are sitting around the bonfire, not paying attention as you walk down the steps. One boy stands next to an older man outside of the circle, with two girls.
"Emily!" Bella passes by you to go greet one of the girls in question.
Jacob stands by your side and points at each member of the pack, listing them by name. "The ones sitting are Jared, Quil, Embry, Seth, and Paul," he begins. "The girl with the permanent frown is Leah, Emily's with Bella, and Sam is with my dad."
You nod as he relays the names and hope you can remember all of them. "Are they all..?" You trail off, unsure of how to ask. "Wolves?" Jacob interjects. Your face flushes lightly and you nod. "Emily isn't," he clarifies.
You suddenly feel like the odd one out all over again, the same way you felt when you'd first met the Cullen’s.
 The boy standing away from the fire, Sam, makes his way over to you. You straighten your posture and try to not look too intimidated. "Hi, are you Sam?" You ask. He nods in response but doesn't make a move to shake your hand.
"Sam Uley. I assume Jacob introduced you to my pack."
Your hand falls limp at your side and you try to pluck up a friendly smile. "More or less. I've yet to actually talk to them," you joke. Sam gives you a curt nod and turns to look at the other boys. "I wanted you here tonight to make sure of something," Sam begins. He turns back to you with a firm stare, and you frown. "What's that?" 
Sam exchanges a look with the boy standing next to you, and you can feel Jacob shift awkwardly under the scrutiny of the stare. "I'm not sure how much you've been told, but our ancestors and the Cullen family have a treaty," Sam states. You nod slowly. You knew the basics of the treaty; they weren't allowed to bite humans or trespass on the wolves' territory unless invited. "We wanted to ensure that treaty hasn't been broken." 
You freeze and stare at the boy before you. Surely, he isn't suggesting what you think he is?
"Are you asking me if I'm still human?"
"Please understand where I'm coming from," Sam says calmly. You study him carefully, before letting out a small sigh. You should have known there was an alternative motive for this meeting.
"The Cullen’s wouldn't harm me, and I can assure you I'm still painfully normal."
Sam seems pleased with this answer and nods to you before turning around and assuming his place by the bonfire. "Sorry about that," Jacob mutters. "We just needed to be sure." You give him a reassuring smile and place your hand on his arm. "It's alright, really," you promise. The boy cracks a small grin and leads you over to the bonfire to properly introduce you to the pack. 
As you approach the bonfire, one of the taller boy's scrunches his face in mock disgust.
"It smells like a leech," he says in a loud tone. The other boys snickered amongst themselves.
You roll your eyes and sit down in a lawn chair as Jacob takes the seat next to you. The boy who made the joke was smirking like the cat that ate the canary until his eyes met yours.
His snarky follow-up comment died on his tongue as he stared at you. Your brows knit together in confusion, wondering why the sudden change of heart. He looked at you like a desert traveler would an oasis. You tear your eyes away from him to look over at Jake. 
"I didn't think I smelled that bad," you joke lightly. 
"Paul didn't mean anything by it," one of the boys speaks up. You think this one is Seth, if you're not mistaken. Another one of them, Quil, nods in agreement. "You smell good!" You snort at his affirmation. "Thank you?" That was certainly one of the stranger compliments you've received.
Paul suddenly growls at Quil who then shies away in fear. The boys fall silent as they stare at Paul, but no one dares to speak. You look over to Jacob, who only shrugs. "So," you begin, drawing their attention once more. "What do you guys usually do around here?" 
"You're looking at it," Embry pipes up, gesturing to the bonfire. You raise a brow and lean forward in your chair. "Sit around a fire and make fun of people?"
Paul seems to shrink back at your comment.
"The mocking is optional," Quil says with a smirk, jutting out his elbow to bump Paul. The taller boy sneers but makes no further comment. "What about you?" Embry asks as they turn to look at you. "I didn't take those bloodsuckers to be the nurturing type."
You purse your lips at him and he smiles apologetically. "They're nice when you get to know them," you say.
Paul scoffs, causing you to look over. "As nice as monsters can be, sure," he mutters. "Excuse me?" You ask, frowning. What was his problem? As far as you knew, the Cullen's hadn't done anything to earn such biting words. Paul avoids your gaze and crosses his arms over his chest. "I think you heard me." 
His words hang in the air and poison the atmosphere, making the yard fall silent. Sam and Mr. Black are glancing your way with disapproving looks. You glance around at the other boys as they shift awkwardly in their seats.
"Right," you mumble under your breath. "I'll leave you alone."
Paul's head snaps up as you stand from the chair. He gives you a kicked puppy look, as if he wants you to stay. You're beginning to get whiplash from his changing moods.
You turn away from the bonfire and make your way over to where Bella and Emily stand, next to the back door of the house. "What did you do to Paul?" Bella asks, brows knit together. You let out a huff and fold your arms over your chest. "I didn't do anything," you say defensively. "He was being rude, so I left. I'm not going to stick around and listen to someone insult me." Emily gives you a knowing smile and peers over your shoulder at the bonfire. "You know what they say about little boys who pull pigtails," Emily begins. "It means they like you." 
You're about to attest her suggestion when you feel a warm hand grab your shoulder. You look over to see Quil standing next to you, offering a small smile. "Hey, sorry about Paul. We really do want to get to know you better," he says. He nods politely to Bella and she gives him a small wave.
You let your arms relax and fall back to your sides as you turn towards the boy next to you. "I'm not mad, Quil. I just didn't feel like he wanted me there." Quil gives you a tight-lipped smile and glances nervously over his shoulder. "Well, that's the thing," Quil starts. "He might want you there a little too much." 
Before you can ask him to explain, a familiar growl echoes through the yard. "Quil!" You feel the hand on your shoulder stiffen as you peer over at the bonfire. "Move your hand or I'll rip it off," Paul seethes.
You clench your fists and move so that you're standing in front of Quil. "What's your problem?" You ask, glaring at the angry boy before you. Paul ignores you, his eyes trained on the boy behind you. "Don't defend me," Quil hisses. "It'll make it worse!" 
Paul takes a step forward and you instinctively reach back, your arm stretched across Quil's chest in a protective fashion. 
Paul did not like this one bit. 
His body shudders and his nostrils flare as he fights the urge to transition. Quil reaches over and grabs you before calling out: "Sam!" 
Sam rushes forward, using a demanding tone to order Paul to calm down. Paul winces, but you can see his muscles rippling still as his anger keeps him teetering on the edge of shifting. Quil pulls you back toward the house with Bella and Emily close behind. 
Paul bares his teeth and roars, sending a shiver down your spine. What was going on? 
Quil shuts the door and turns to you. "You need to leave, now. He's not calming down." He throws nervous looks at the white door as he speaks. Bella paces the kitchen, her brown eyes flitting between you and the backyard. "He didn't, did he?" She asks.
The silence that follows is all she needs as a response. Bella looks at you with newfound shock, and you suddenly feel left out.
"He did what?" You ask. Did they know something you didn't? "What did he do?" You ask again, stepping forward.
Emily stands next to you and places her hand gently on your back, rubbing small circles. "It's hard to explain," she begins. Suddenly, Sam comes barging into the house. "Where is she?" His head whips around until he spots you. "You need to call the Cullen’s and have them pick you up from the reservation line," he demands. His tone gives you no room to argue and you fumble to get your phone from your pocket. 
"What's going on?" You ask, your hands shaking. Why was no one telling you?
 "The pack is keeping him at bay, but we don't have much time. Quil, make sure they get out safely," Sam instructs, ignoring your question. Bella hurries you to the front door as Quil follows. 
You run to the truck and watch in shock when Quil shifts into a large dark grey wolf with brown streaks dappled in his fur. He shakes his head, his ears on high alert.
Bella slams the truck door shut, snapping you out of your trans. You shakily strap yourself in just as a splitting howl echoes through the air. You and Bella both look back at the house anxiously. Quil runs behind the truck, on the lookout for what you could only assume was Paul. 
You nearly forget the phone sitting heavy in your hand as your eyes scan the passing forest. Your heart hammered in your chest as you turn to look at Bella.
"What's going on? Why is Paul so angry?" You ask quietly. You were growing sick of not knowing what was going on.
Bella glances nervously in the rear view mirror, her eyes trained on Quil. "The wolves, they have this thing called imprinting," here she pauses, trying to remember the way Jake had explained it. "It's like finding their soulmate." 
You stare at the brunette, confusion written on your face. "Are you trying to tell me that a man I just met imprinted on me," you pause to gesture wildly at the woods, "And is now on a murder spree because Quil touched my shoulder?"
Bella would have laughed at your word choices if the situation were different.
"Like Emily said, it's hard to explain. Some of them handle it better than others."
You look out of the windshield and stare at the road. The sun is setting and the old truck's headlights do very little to illuminate the coarse dirt ahead of you. Before you can ask her what you're supposed to do with this sudden information, a silver wolf steps out into the road. "Bella, watch out!" You screech, fingers grasping for the handle to the right of your head. Bella slams on the break and the truck shudders to a sudden halt. Dust kicks up around the vehicle, momentarily clouding your view. Your heartbeat pulses in your ears, drowning out all other sounds. Your eyes search the road frantically, trying to spot the wolf.
"That," your throat constricts as you try to speak. "Who was that?" You're afraid to know the answer. 
"Paul," Bella whispers, voice hoarse. 
You see a large form dart out from behind the truck and loud snarls begin to echo from the road before you. "They're fighting!" You say, feeling panic bubble in your chest. Bella doesn't move, but instead fumbles for her phone. "I need to call Edward," she mutters. You stare back at the road as the dust blows away slowly, revealing the dueling animals. You can't sit by idly and watch as they all but destroy each other.
Your fingers tremble as you unbuckle your seatbelt, much to Bella's dismay. Before she can stop you, you're hopping down from the cab of the truck and stumbling towards the hulking wolves before you.
"Paul? Quil?" You ask, your voice betraying your fear.
As you push forward, you get a clearer view of Paul. His fur is a dazzling shade of silver and almost shines from the headlights. You would have been amazed if his teeth weren't digging into Quil's shoulder.
"Paul," you repeat, trying to sound more authoritative. This catches his attention and his head snaps up to look at you. Oh god. Well, you didn't think this through. Quil takes this chance to limp backward, giving the two of you space. 
Paul's eyes are trained on you, calculating your every move. You swallow thickly and step forward, inching closer to him. "Paul?" Your voice is softer this time. His ears twitch as you approach, signaling to you that he was listening. "I'm not sure what all of this means," you continue. "But I'm not going to lie to you. I'm scared," you pause to gauge his reaction. If a wolf could frown, you were sure this is what it looked like. He looks almost upset at your confession, and you quickly backtrack.
"I think it would help if we could talk," you add.
He steps forward, and you do your best to not shrink back in fear. His nose presses against your arm and he snorts lightly. Your hand trembles as you bring it up, resting it on his head. "Good dog," you joke. Paul snorts again, giving you what you can only guess is an unamused look. 
"Can we talk?" You ask gently. He seems hesitant to leave your touch, but after a moment he steps back. You glance over to Quil, who slinks away into the trees. The wolf before you shudders, and the sound of bones popping fills your ears. You cringe at the noise and look away as Paul slowly returns to his human form. Before you turn back, Paul stops you. "Give me a second," he says a bit awkwardly. He shuffles away into the woods before you can respond. Curiously, you glance over to his fleeting form before turning away with wide eyes. He was naked. Very, very naked. And you saw everything. 
You try to shoo the thoughts from your head and focus on the dirt beneath your shoes. You hear soft footsteps and turn back, seeing a now-clothed Paul approaching you nervously. He scratches the back of his head as he makes his way back over to you. "Can we go somewhere private?" He asks in a low tone. You glance over at the truck sitting in the road and nod. "Sure."
You follow the boy down into the woods, stopping at a fallen tree. You note a neat pile of clothes tucked away in a little crook of the log and chuckle lightly. They must leave these around for when they phase.
Paul sits beside you, his eyes darting over to you every so often. He looks like he has so much he wants to say to you, and maybe he does. After everything you just experienced, you could use a bit of an explanation.
"I'm sorry," he mutters finally. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen." His leg bounces nervously as his eyes refuse to meet your gaze. 
"I have anger problems, and I just didn't know how to handle all of this." 
You nod slowly and turn to glance back up at the road. Bella's truck was still in view, and she was no doubt waiting nervously to see if you were alright.
"This is all really sudden," you say quietly.
  "It usually is," Paul says, thinking back to when Sam and Embry first imprinted. He couldn't explain his feelings to you; he couldn't even explain them to himself. All it took was Quil laying a single hand on your body and all rational thought flew out the window. He just wanted-- needed-- you near him. "So, what happens now?" You ask, bringing Paul back from his thoughts. He wanted to hold you, to cradle you in his arms and kiss you. But he knew this was just the imprinting part of his brain talking. The two of you had met less than an hour ago, and he didn't want to scare you off. He settles for a brief, "Whatever you want." 
You hum quietly as you stare at the leaf-covered grass beneath your feet. This definitely was sudden. But there was a sort of calming presence around Paul that pulled you in and left you wanting more. Which was ironic given his lack of control. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing-- the concept of soulmates and all. It would definitely take some time to get used to, but you didn't feel repulsed at the idea.
"We could take this slow," you offer quietly.
Paul's body language oozes relief as he finally looks over to you. "We can?" The hopeful lilt to his tone almost makes you giddy.
“Is that alright?" You wonder, looking up to meet his gaze. His warm brown eyes are captivating and he gives you a boyish grin. "More than alright," he assures you. He inches closer to you and you feel the warmth pooling off him in waves. His fingers brush yours lightly, looking for silent permission.
You lift your hand and allow him to cradle it in his large, calloused one. His touch is hot, but not uncomfortable. It warms you to your core and you can't help but lean into his side. Paul brings your hand up carefully and places a light kiss to the back of your hand. This was definitely going to take some getting used to.
But in this moment with him, you couldn't see yourself anywhere else. 
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Chlodineweek Day 2: Playfulness
Chloe snapped open the passenger-side door and ventured, “Old one, this.”
“Ja, I don’t have a midlife crisis.”
Nadine had shut her own door and ignited the motor--and the radio--before Chloe had finished climbing in. She had to look at everything, this girl. With Ukhozi FM crackling, Nadine pulled them into the street.
“Your dad good with cars?” Chloe asked suddenly.
“What…brought that on?”
“He the one who keeps this thing up for you?”
Nadine took her eyes off the road and frowned at her treasure hunting partner. “Sorry--what is it with you?!”
“Oh, nothing,” Chloe said. Carding her fingers through her ponytail as if she was playing a harp. As the buildings outside the window progressed in a long gradient from townhouse to single-floor corrugated roof structures. “I just know for a fact you wouldn’t trust a mechanic.”
“Because they rip you off.”
“You haven’t had it looked at in a while, have you.”
No, Nadine hadn’t. Yes, it was important to her, and the fan belt was noisy enough that the radio didn’t quite cover it at the minimal volume Nadine preferred to keep it on, but fan belts weren’t technically an emergency--
“This is different,” Chloe said. “Are we still in Johannesburg?”
“Orange Farm,” Nadine muttered.
“I don’t...see any trees?”
“Here we are.”
Nadine could already see one of her aunts standing outside, hands on her hips, and calling to her sons in isiZulu. As Nadine pulled up she rolled down the window. Thin arms wrapped around her neck as each boy kissed her cheek in turn, their mother’s strict instructions about their behavior continuing through the pop of a rear door.
A dried-mud-covered soccer ball bounced against the back seats first, and then Nadine’s cousins, ages eight and ten, crashed in through the same door, yelling about Among Us and playing a Youtube video from one of their phones. Nadine opened the door, smirking about leaving Chloe to listen to it all, and embraced her aunt.
Nadine was head and shoulders taller, but the woman dwarfed her in tone of voice as she switched from admonishing her children to her niece.
“Always disappearing, Nadi. Making everyone worry.”
“Not disappearing,” Nadine said, and, tapping her wrist, flipped a bundle of rand notes out of seemingly nowhere and held them out. “Magic trick,” she said in English.
Her aunt shoved them away. “Nadi! Think about where we are, put it away!”
Her family was all like this, too proud and careful in equal measure. Nadine pressed it on her anyway. “Now, you can’t bring up how you used to have to pull me off the jacarandas.”
“You’re still a child. I won’t take money from a child,” auntie said, reaching up to tease at Nadine’s hair, ignoring the money. “You still haven’t found a nice girl to settle down with.”
“No such thing.”
"Of course there is, Nadi. So many girls in the world, so many of them nice. You are lucky."
Nadine laughed. "Not the ones that are single."
Her aunt mock-slapped her upper arm. "Steal one from someone else then!"
Nadine about doubled up then, even though she had already been laughing, and was about to fall down. Her aunt clapped her back, laughing too, and nodded back at the car. "Go on, now."
Nadine got back into the driver's seat not having left the money, and resolved to give it to the boys later. "Everybody buckled?" She said in English.
Matthew was suplexing David around the neck, but they did seem to be wearing their seatbelts. Nadine scanned Chloe's waist for a buckle too, and looked up. The woman's brows were furrowed, her face inscrutable.
"What's the matter?" Nadine said.
"Oh, it's...nothing," Chloe did her usual nervous chuckle, gripped her arms. "I didn't know you could laugh like that."
"I've laughed in front of you."
Nadine reached back to separate the boys, just as if they were groceries, and they ricocheted to their opposite sides of the car before the belts tethered them. Kinetic energy.
"Not like...never mind, it's nothing."
Nadine pulled them out of the street, taking a few turns before she got on the main thoroughfares, when more trees and tall buildings became visible over the turnpike.
=
Nadine plucked out the ball and let it fall, giving it a quick tap with the side of her boot. It lobbed out over the ocean of grass and her cousins ran screaming after it, barefoot, even as she held their cleats and a blanket under her arm. She let out a scoff and shut the car door.
"Didn't we pass by a pitch over in--Orange Farm, was it?" Chloe said as she passed her.
"Some people call it Farma, too."
"Right," Chloe said, following her. Then: "Why come all the way here when--"
"Nadi!" David cried as he zoomed back. If he was a cartoon character, he would leave speed clouds behind him like the roadrunner. "We have four today, ja? We can play teams!"
"I don't think my friend brought cleats," Nadine said with a chuckle, immediately interrupted by Chloe flinging off her shoe.
"Splendid idea," Chloe said as she elbowed her, hopping on one leg with a grin. "Who picks?"
Nadine laughed again, shaking her head. "I know they look small, but they're really good. You might want to--"
Chloe bumped her in the shoulder. "I've played Aussie Rules," she hissed, as if it carried the weight of admitting to a murder.
"Is that when you ride on kangaroos? They do the kicking? Ball's a rolled up koala?"
The boys roared in laughter.
Chloe sniffed. "That would be Aussie polo. Get our sports right, Nadine Ross.”
Nadine shook her head, laughing, as she dropped the boys’ cleats and headed to the regulation-size end goal. They normally used one of the smaller side ones, but those were taken by a group of teenagers still wearing their school uniforms.
It stretched to either side as she stood in the middle, and she hopped up to do a quick pull-up on the crossbar before plunking down and turning to face her cousins. “It’s been a while. Try to get it past me.”
Matthew, breaking away from another impromptu wrestling match with his brother, ran to the free kick zone and set the ball down, adjusting its position minutely before taking a few steps back. David and Chloe lined up behind him as he broke into a run and smashed where his shoelaces would have been against the ball.
Nadine winced, wishing he’d put on his cleats. She was already moving. She didn’t even need to dive as she swatted the ball clean left.
“Taught you better than that, ja?!” she shouted at the pouting boy, dusting off her hands, as his younger brother ran gleefully after the ball.
Nadine turned and did two chin-ups off the crossbar--rituals were important--and when she dropped back down and turned, Chloe was crouching by David, whispering and gesticulating to him. Was she giving him directions? Describing an elephant in pantomime? Maybe she was teaching him the finer points of Australian Rules Football.
“Clock violation, ja!”
Chloe left him, and David stepped back, and suspicion rose in Nadine’s stomach. There was something about the look on her partner’s face.
She’s told him to put English on it, Nadine thought, almost seeing the boy’s bare foot approach the ball in slow motion. But which way?
She saw him feint, and her reflexes sent her the way she knew the ball would go, not the way the child was going--
But she didn’t see him freeze.
His foot stopped. Nadine had hit the grass by the time he came back into motion, took his final step and his kick finally connected.
The ball passed inches above her then, but it might as well have been the moon. It pillowed against the back of the net as she reached for it, and the next moment Nadine pushed herself off the ground with venom in her eyes for Chloe.
She’d taught David that damned Ronaldo stutter step.
The boy exploded, leaping and pumping his arm, and his brother shouted “LEKKER!!!” while tackling him with a hug. The first rule of being a child was acting like it was the World Cup at all times.
“I beat Nadi! I beat Nadi!”
“Good job!” Chloe was saying. “You beat Nadi! High-five, David! Look how sad she is!”
Nadine was an adult, but still subscribed to the rule of acting like it was the World Cup--rituals are important--and was lying on her back covering her face like she’d lost the penalty shootout to the Italians. The next moment David and Matthew had body-slammed her, laughing themselves silly.
“I want--I want freezer on my team!” David cried.
This revived Nadine.
“Freezer’s yours,” she said, grinning, and let them pull to her feet. She heard Chloe muttering under her breath and they traded glares as Nadine said, “Put your cleats on, then.”
“Freezer’s not wearing shoes!” Matthew protested, even as he pulled on his.
“Because I have magical ice powers,” Chloe said, easing her bare foot under the ball in the corner of the goal and lifting it, only to have Nadine steal it with her head. Chloe turned to yell at her, but Nadine caught it on her knee and dribbled it out to the free kick line.
“Oh, I see,” Chloe said, and walked to the middle of the goal with awesome serenity. “Warning you now, I was in goal most of the time in secondary school,” she smacked her hands together and held them out. “Do your worst.”
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baseball takes your mind off things
Slexie, Merder and Cristowen one-shot | Rated T | Canon-compliant with 6x03
A/N: The baseball scene at the end of 6.03 after Lexie doesn’t get fired with the hospital cuts (and neither did Meredith or Cristina). Will go down as one of my favourite “couples” scenes on grey’s and I literally don’t know why. Maybe because everyone looks so happy, and both Derek and Meredith are cool with Mark and Lexie being together. All is well, aka the calm before the storm that is the Mercy West merger.
You can read this work on ao3 and fanfiction.net as well
Written and cover by @thedefinitionofendgame (aka me)
It was just six doctors off-duty-three medical students, three well-known surgeons-all just messing around with baseballs and beer bottles in their hands. For the surgeons, it was another night of fun with their girls and the boys. For the medical students, it was a way to take the edge off as they had all just survived the first round of merger cuts. Meredith wasn’t surprised all three of the women had made it; they were all more than capable. Cristina especially, although sometimes her actions were a little questionable. Lexie, as Meredith’s younger sister, had a legacy to live up to but she also was becoming a very talented surgeon. Mark never hesitated to tell her that.
Meredith was still trying to figure Mark Sloan out. Sure, he was a player and slept around a lot prior to getting together with Lexie Grey. It was one of the reasons why Meredith was very against Derek’s best friend and Lexie at first. She was the one who told Derek to tell Mark to keep “little Mark” in his pants when it came to Lexie. That was her first mistake, because all it seemed to do was make Mark want Lexie; a guy clearly likes the challenge of fooling around with someone he can’t have. Although they weren’t just fooling around; Lexie loved Mark and Mark loved Lexie. Lexie had assured Meredith he wasn’t taking advantage of her and that they were going to be together, blessing or not. Meredith didn’t want to lose her sister that she had only recently found out she had, so she caved. Now here she was, with her sister, her best friend, her husband, his best friend, and then Owen. Meredith supposed everyone had a connection to her somehow, except for Owen Hunt. Sure, he was her best friend’s boyfriend but they weren’t super close. Anyways, that wasn’t the point.
The point was that Meredith, Cristina and Lexie had all made the first round of cuts. Cristina had to go and put a damper on their good news by stating it was the first round of more to come. Nevertheless, Meredith was happy for all of them. The men had decided that a game of baseball was in order, not so much a game as a chance to blow off some steam. Originally, Cristina was going to stay at the hospital, and Meredith with her. Then Owen came along with beers and announced that baseball was necessary, rounding up Meredith and Derek. They found Mark comforting Lexie in the foyer; Meredith’s first thought was that she had been cut when she saw the tears on Lexie’s cheeks. But they were actually tears of joy, and Mark was doing his boyfriend-ly job by soothing her regardless of it being a victory or loss.
Okay, maybe former-womanizer Mark Sloan could be a good guy. Guess he just had to find the right girl.
Meredith snapped back to focus to cheer Cristina on, after she managed to hit the baseball flying at her face. Lexie wanted a turn next, so she handed her beer off to Mark, slapped one of the helmets on her head and headed to take a crack at it. Derek, who was playing back catcher, caught Meredith’s eye and winked; he really did love his complicated-but-loving wife.
Meredith and him, well they’re love story hadn’t been a smooth one. It started with a one-night stand that ended up being taken to work of all places. Turns out Seattle wasn’t as large as they thought. But Derek wouldn’t change all the bumps in the road, including his ex-wife coming back into his life and then leaving almost as fast, to go back and not meet Meredith. She was his endgame, his ride-or-die and his forever. Post-it or not, they would always be married and love each other until the ends of the Earth.
It was the love he felt for Meredith, that made him reconcile things with Mark. Mark Sloan had had the tendency to make jackass moves all his life; sleeping with Addison being one of many. But specifically going against Derek’s only ask that he didn’t date Lexie, well that had been a bit far. They had fought it out like teenage boys, despite the fact they were grown men, and with the girls’ help had then talked it out. Mark had assured him that Lexie wasn’t another fling that he’d get rid of in a couple weeks. She was the real-deal. And even though Derek doubted it at first, there was no denying that Mark Sloan loved Little Grey. It took Mark a lot to ever say the word “love” about a girl, for the long term. Confessing his relationship status to Derek had been tough, but it only made Derek realize how much Mark actually cared for Lexie; he was willing to lose his best friend over the girl he loved.
Derek liked Meredith’s “sisters” both the blood-related and the symbolic one. Cristina Yang was all shades of talented, and while she wasn’t all smiley like Lexie, she knew how to perform surgery like a boss. She and Meredith had been there for each other through a lot, and Meredith needed good friends like Cristina. She needed her “person”; someone who would be there through the thick and thin. Best friends don’t come along often, and Derek of all people knew that in regards to Mark. His and Mark’s friendship hadn’t been smooth-sailing, but deep down they cared for each other. He was the brother Derek never had, because God or someone else had cursed him with sisters.
Crouching behind the batter, who at the moment was Lexie Grey, Derek turned his attention to the baseball winding up inside the machine. Owen Hunt had been speaking all kinds of smartness when he told Cristina she needed to focus on what was in front of her, in that very moment. The ex-army trauma surgeon did know what he was talking about and while he didn’t always make the best choices, he sure knew how to give a short but sweet peptalk. Derek smacked his hand into the glove and waited, ready for whatever life threw at him.
They took shot after shot, of both alcohol (well more like sips) and baseball. It was a wild night, as the three couples laughed and had fun just being. No cares were in their minds anymore; even Cristina had stopped fretting about the next round of cuts. Meredith had Derek’s jackets wrapped around her shoulders, while Lexie snuck drinks of Mark’s beer, and Owen helped Cristina work on her swing stance. It was peaceful and though Cristina didn’t like to admit it, her boyfriend’s idea was a good one.
It felt good to clear her head, to take her mind off the rush at the hospital. Nothing could ever feel as good as the rush of surgery but hitting a baseball swung mighty close. At least in this moment right now. She might feel differently if she woke up the next morning with a sore arm from taking hits all evening. Although Owen had already whispered in her ear about promising to massage her back if her muscles were tight. It was an opportunity Cristina was prepared to take full advantage of.
She and Owen were something else. Not fierce, but good. Comfortable. They were good together and they knew what the other wanted, at least they both thought they did. Sure, they would never get married on a post-it note like Meredith and Derek had, although who could really match with Meredith and Derek? They were utterly perfect and utterly in love. It was a miracle they were here tonight, actually, and not Christening more surfaces in the house. “Newlyweds” had been their excuse, according to Lexie. Little Grey was here tonight having a blast and the beer in her system made her a little more rowdy than normal. Cristina couldn’t help but enjoy this new side of Lexie.
Mark was also enjoying it, watching his girl jump up and down when she hit the ball square on the bat, making a nice crack sound and sending the little white sphere tumbling through the air. He wouldn’t help but stare at her ass too, because damn did Little Grey have a nice ass. She had a nice everything, but of her physical features her ass was his favourite. Mark shook his head as Derek stepped up to plate next; he did not want to think of his best friend’s ass at all.
It was Owen who was the most observing throughout the night. He watched his girlfriend loosen up and start to feel more like her regular self. Cristina was normally uptight but she had been very uptight recently. A night of hitting a ball around was clearly doing some good, and it was good to see Mark and Derek getting along as though nothing had happened between them. Owen didn’t know much about the fistfight that went down, besides the fact that Derek had thrown the first punch, but whatever it was hadn’t managed to tear the two guys apart. If the cost was being the third wheel amongst the bros for them to get along, then Owen was happy to pay the price.
At last everyone started to lose energy, and the baseball night drew to a close. Lexie took off her sweaty helmet and threw it into the back of Mark’s vehicle. She said goodbye to her sister and her husband with hugs; Cristina and Owen got a wave as they headed for the opposite side of the parking lot. Mark drove away with a smile on his face and Lexie’s fingers interlaced with his.
They didn’t speak, but Lexie knew what he was feeling. They were happy, they had their jobs and they loved each other. That was all that mattered; it was all that ever mattered. Tonight had been a whirlwind, though Lexie loved it. She loved her life, she loved the man sitting beside her, and she loved her newfound sister. Life was good.
So good, in fact, that she didn’t even think about the Mercy West merger that was about to take place.
Not one thought.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
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A Place To Call Home: Father’s Day
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Summary: It’s the reader’s first father’s day after being adopted and Jensen decides to make it an extra special one for them both...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader
Square: Daddy!Jensen
Word Count: 3,400ish
Warnings: language, angst, fluff
A/N: I was in the mood to revisit these guys again!...
A/N #2: Also written for @spndeanbingo​
_______
“Hey,” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You kept your back to him from where you lay on your bed and felt a hand gently rest on your forehead. “Feeling okay, honey? You’ve been quieter than normal today.”
“Sorry,” you said. The bed dipped behind you and you felt his back press against yours.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, running his hand over your head. “Want to go on a ride with me?”
“It’s after eight,” you said.
“You stay up until midnight every night plus it’s summer. Come on. Pretty please? We’ll get ice cream on the way home,” he said. “The really bad for you kind too.”
“Jensen, not today, please,” you said. “Maybe tomorrow night.”
“Nope. Tonight. Unless you’re dying, we’re going out. End of discussion,” he said, ruffling your head. You groaned and sat up, following him to the garage and slipping into a pair of flip flops, following him into his SUV. A few minutes later you were driving towards the east side of town and you were frowning.
“I thought the place we go to is near home,” you said.
“The ice cream place is. But we have to go somewhere else first,” he said, turning on the radio to a quiet station.
“I’m sorry I burnt the bacon this morning,” you said. 
“Oh, it was a little over done was all,” he said.
“It was black. You looked like you wanted to throw up,” you said.
“Maybe it was a little burnt. But you guys made me breakfast for father’s day all on your own and my eggs were delicious. I loved it,” he said.
“Jensen. It’s just me. You don’t have to pretend,” you said.
“I’m not pretending. My four kids made me breakfast for the first time and considering three of them are still very small, I think it was pretty fantastic,” he said. 
“Whatever,” you said, leaning your head against the window. You saw him reach his hand over and hold it open on the center console in your periphery. “What do you want? I’m not holding your fucking hand like some five year old child.”
“Alright,” he said, leaving it there as he drove. You watched the lights and houses go by, catching part of the city before you were past it and well into the eastern part of town. He drove far, right to the outskirts before you saw a sign and sat up. You swallowed as he continued into the small community there, getting off of the highway and main road, taking a few twists and turns before you saw where you were going. 
You were quiet as he pulled into the place and drove for while, stopping after a moment and turning the car off. He hopped out and went to the trunk, taking something out and then knocking on your window.
“Well come on,” he said. You unbuckled and stepped out, looking around and rubbing your arm. “Okay, tall munchkin?”
“Why are we here?” you asked.
“Because it’s father’s day,” he said, holding out his free hand. You shakily grabbed it and stepped closer to him, looking all around. “It’s alright. The lights are coming on anyways.”
You nodded and followed him across the grass, Jensen knowing right where he was going. When he stopped, the car was far back behind you and Jensen set a bundle of blue and white flowers down.
“I came up for mother’s day too. I would have brought you then but you had that stomach bug,” he said. You stood there and nodded, taking a deep breath. “When’s the last time you were here, kiddo?”
“The funeral,” you said quietly. “I couldn’t remember what cemetery they were in. That’s besides the fact of how scary they are.”
“It’s not scary,” he said. “Look around for a second and listen.”
You shook your head and he wrapped his arms around you.
“Come on. Try for me,” he said. “You always try for me if I ask.”
“Sometimes that really sucks you know. Trying,” you said, shutting your eyes.
“You came home with me on that rainy night. You tried for me at your lowest. This is a walk in the park compared to that,” he said. “Nothing will ever be as hard as that was and guess what, you came out the other side okay. Just look around for me, Y/N.”
He dropped his arms and stepped back. You sighed and opened your eyes, spinning around in a quick circle. He gave you a bitch face and you rolled your eyes, turning more slowly.
“There’s trees here and lots of flowers around. The lampposts look like those ones at the park, don’t they? It’s nice and quiet. It’s a lot like that time I woke you up early to go watch your first sunrise at the park,” he said.
“It looks like a park almost,” you said to yourself as you glanced at the curvy paths in the place.
“That’s because it’s not meant to be a scary place, Y/N. It’s supposed to be a place you want to come visit, like the park. S’nothing to be afraid of here,” he said.
“I hated this place,” you said, staring down at the ground. “I hated that day. I didn’t even cry. I already knew better at that point. Still got hit when I got back to my foster home that day for sniffling. I always thought they might be mad at me for that, my parents. Not being upset that day for them,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you looked up.
“They knew you were upset, honey. Nothing can break your heart more once you become a parent than your child hurting. Your parents are not mad at you. I know your head. They aren’t mad at you for this being the first time you’ve been back either. I can promise you that.”
“Lucky guess,” you said.
“Today being your first father’s day being adopted and all have anything to do with how quiet you were earlier?” he asked.
“Two lucky guesses,” you said. He threw his arms over your shoulders and gave you a hug from behind. “I don’t want them to be mad at me or think I moved on and I’m going to forget about them.”
“We will never forget about them, tall munchkin. They’re are as much of a part of our family as you are. They’ll always be a part of ours,” he said.
“I changed my last name though. How could they not be angry for that?” you asked. He was quiet behind you and you felt a kiss on your temple.
“Guys our daughter is doing it again,” said Jensen. You went to speak but he sighed. “She always like this or this a teenager thing? I know you guys handled potty training which thank you very much for but I mean, you know, you guys could speak up and tell her she’s being an idiot. An idiot we love very much but an idiot.”
“You are the one speaking to a grave,” you said.
“It’s okay to talk to people that have died, Y/N. Death is weird. We don’t know what happens when it happens but just because someone died doesn’t mean they have to be gone. A name is just a name. It doesn’t mean anything when it comes to family. Take Jared for instance. He’s your Uncle but we don’t have the same last name now do we?”
“Yeah but I asked to have my name done cause it meant something to me and-”
“I know what it meant. No one’s ever throwing you away. You’re ours, forever. All of ours,” he said. 
“God, you’re so sappy,” you said, wiping at your face.
“See? I had to handle that one again! Guys, a little leg work here,” said Jensen. You smiled and felt a quick breeze whip past. You looked back and he rested his chin on your shoulder. “It was the wind, dork. Not a sign.”
“You’re the one that mentioned it, not me,” you said.
“So you gonna wish him happy father’s day or do I have to do that for you too?” asked Jensen.
“Happy father’s day, dad,” you said. “I’m a lot better than last time I was here. I’m okay now. I promise.”
“We’ll get her by more often,” said Jensen. “Oh, and our girl can’t cook bacon for shit. I blame that on you guys.”
You giggled, Jensen hugging you again.
“Okay, okay. I get it,” you said, grabbing his arms and tilting your head back to look up at him. “Happy father’s day too.”
“Thank you, kiddo,” he said with a big smile. “Best one yet.”
“Why?”
“It’s our first one with you adopted. Of course it’s the best one,” he said.
“Sometimes I really can’t believe you played a badass on TV,” you said.
“Shut up,” he said, giving you a noggie. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”
“How she doing now?” asked De when you were sitting on the back patio by the fire pit around midnight, curled up in your chair in a hoodie that used to belong to one of them. Your eyes were shut and you knew you should have walked up to the house but the fire was cozy warm and you really didn’t want to move. “Daddy daughter trip work?”
“Oh, she’s a sucker for those. I got her wrapped around my finger,” said Jensen with a chuckle.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, Jensen,” she said. A fingertip grazed your forehead and you heard a light laugh.
“Yeah, I know I am. I don’t mind,” he said, a piece of hair tucking behind your ear before it was quiet, a few crackles of fire. “She’s too little to have that much fear and pain bottled up inside her. There’s always something new in there we don’t know about and there’s no way for us to stop it.”
“You stopped it today,” said De.
“No I didn’t. She was afraid her parents would be mad and think she moved on because she has us now. I didn’t stop that. I helped her through it but it’s not gone. It’s gonna stick in that kid’s head for a good long time and there’s nothing we can do.”
“Jay, I know we’d both take on all that pain for her if we could and maybe we can’t do that. It doesn’t mean what we do, things like today, it doesn’t mean those moments don’t make a difference. She was happy for the first time all day after you guys got home tonight,” she said. “That’s real and that makes an impact.”
“This kid has more scars than you and me put together,” he said. “It’s just...I just want our baby to be happy and safe.”
“She is. Everyday she is more and more comfortable here and with us. Earlier this week she even called me mom a few times,” she said.
“She did? That’s a huge step for her. We’ve told her so many times she never has to,” he said.
“I know. She did it on her own. Maybe she was just trying it out. It’s up to her what she wants. But this is the same girl that sat shaking at the end of our bed scared to even look us in the eye because she thought we’d hurt her. It’s been a year and a half Jensen. We went from that to her asleep out here all tucked in, feeling safe enough with us here to protect her. It is slow some going sometimes, I know it is, but she is a million times better off than she was, even on days like today,” said De.
“I’m not used to being the one freaking out all the time,” he said. “That’s your job.”
“You know how I was a little jealous of you two at first,” she said, a smile in her voice. “You’re so close.”
“Yeah but remember what the doc said.”
“She was far more afraid of you than she ever was of me,” she said. “It’s why we didn’t have to work as hard for us to work. You had to earn every second of it. I know that was hard.”
“You know how sometimes the kids can be a bit much?” he asked and she laughed. “I can understand being annoyed or thinking yes, that picture is not gorgeous that they just drew or whatever. I can understand that you don’t like every single thing every single second about your child. But even if your kid is driving you up the wall, you still love them. You’d still stop anything that ever wanted to hurt them.”
“What’s your point?”
“She didn’t know that. We had to start from nothing. It took months for me to feel like I could even hug her without scaring her,” he said. “Days like today, they make me wonder if I still scare her ever.”
“Jensen. You earned all of that with her. You proved yourself to her over and over again. You’re the last person on earth she’ll ever be afraid of and you know what else? You’re the first one she’ll ask to protect her,” she said.
“Until she finds a boy,” he chuckled.
“Babe. Even after the boy, you’ll be a close second,” she said.
“I can take that,” he said. “She mentioned any boys in particular?”
“No. I’m simply saying she starts college in a few months. College boys are cute,” she said.
“She can stay single and live with us forever as far as I’m concerned,” he laughed.
“She might disagree with you there,” she said. It was quiet again and you heard murmurs before the creak of a chair. “You gonna carry her?”
“I ain’t that old,” he said. You fluttered open your eyes as you got picked up, your legs going around his back. “Bedtime munchkin.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, shutting your eyes again. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said after a beat. “Go on back to sleep. I gotcha from here.”
Eight Years Later
“Where we go mommy?” asked Allie as you unbuckled her from her car seat.
“We’re saying hi to mommy’s daddy for father’s day,” said TJ, grabbing her hand as you went to the back to grab the flowers. The bundle of them had scooted back and you stared down at your stomach with a sigh.
“I got it,” said your dad behind you, reaching inside and getting them for you.
“Thanks, dad,” you said, leaning against the back of the SUV for a moment. “I am so over being pregnant.”
“Another month and you’ll be a momma all over again,” he said. “He still keeping you up at night with the kicking?”
“The boy never stops,” you said.
“Chill out, Mr. Hanover,” he said. “Let mommy sleep some.”
“Oh he’s going again,” you said, taking his hand and resting it on your stomach. “Feel him?”
“Yeah,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “I can’t believe my baby made a baby."
“I’m still your baby,” you said. 
“Even if you are getting grown up,” he said. “Come on.”
He walked with you up the grass, setting your flowers down along with his.
“Jay, I thought you mommy’s daddy,” said Allie. 
“I am, sweetie, but mommy was lucky enough to have two mommies and daddies,” said your dad.
“Oh. I don’t get it,” she said.
“We’ll explain when you’re older,” said TJ with a smile, picking her up and resting her on his shoulders.
“Well happy father’s day to my three guys,” you said, giving TJ a kiss and your dad a hug.
“Can we get ice cream now?” asked Allie. 
“Sure. It’s father’s day tradition,” you said. She hopped back with TJ towards the car, your dad bumping your hip gently. “Sup?”
“Someday your children might be parents,” he said. “I know that’s way beyond what you’re thinking at the moment but it’s true. Do me a favor if that happens.”
“What?”
“Try to teach them that’s there no such thing as a perfect parent. Give ‘em some love and safety and they’ll do okay,” he said.
“Dad’s in a mood again, guys,” you said.
“You look like you have a basketball under your shirt,” he said.
“Sarcasm. Great defense mechanism,” you said, grabbing his arm when the baby kicked hard.
“You okay?” he asked. 
“Yeah. You gotta calm down in there, buddy. You can meet your other grandparents after you come out, not before,” you said. He stopped kicking after a moment and you sighed. “How on earth did mom have two of these inside her at once.”
“Oh, I remember being told to get the snip very quickly after that,” he said.
“Dad. I’m still scared from the couch make out session. I don’t need to hear about that,” you said.
“I made out with your mom this morning,” he said with a smirk. You fake gagged and rolled your eyes, saying goodbye before you went back down the grass with him. “It was awesome.”
“You’re such a boy, it’s ridiculous,” you said as you looked at him. You felt yourself start to trip and two very quick hand shot out and grabbed your arms. You got your feet under you, your own arms wrapped around your stomach. You took a deep breath, your dad staring at you. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. You cocked your head and felt the soreness in your arms, glancing down to see the red spots from where he’d caught you. “I hurt you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you so tight.”
“Dad. You didn’t hurt me. Me and baby are all good. I’m not supposed to be walking on uneven ground anyways. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said.
“You’re gonna bruise,” he said.
“I know this is incredibly hard for you to hear but you protecting my child is more important to me than you ever doing a thing for me so thank you,” you said. 
“Can we go back to me embarrassing you? We can talk about how me and mom-”
“Argh,” you said, hearing him laugh as you walked back down to the path. “TJ, my dad’s being weird again.”
“First off, that’s him always. Second, are you saying we’re not gonna make out when we’re their age cause that doesn’t sound like fun,” he said.
“See? He gets it,” said your dad.
“Mommy, I want ice cream,” said Allie.
“Me too, kiddo,” you said, climbing into the passenger seat with TJ’s help.
“We’ll meet you there, Jensen,” he said as your dad headed back to his car.
“Hey dad? Call the other guys to go too,” you said.
“You sure?” he shouted back.
“I’m sure. It should be everybody’s thing,” you said.
“You got it, kiddo,” he said. “See you guys in a little bit.”
“You good?” asked TJ, rubbing your arm when he slid back in behind the wheel. He lowered his hand to your stomach and you smiled.
“Yeah, we’re all good. Happy father’s day, babe.”
________
A/N: Check out the Dark Roads timestamp here!
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apocalypseornaw · 3 years
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Always be Yours-15
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Word Count: 5,048
Story Summary: follows Dean and the Reader through season 9 into season 10
Chapter Summary: In the midst of the battles happening in heaven and hell Jody calls for help when a case involving a teenage girl and a nest of vamps falls into her lap
Warnings: Cursing, violence, the usual
After discovering Metatron had in fact ordered the kill on Kevin along with dozens of angels that dared to oppose him and seeing Cas’ reaction to the mark on Dean, you were eager to work a normal case. One away from matters of heaven or hell that might have a chance of helping Dean to focus on something besides the pull that the mark was trying to dig its claws into his psyche with.
You were half asleep when you heard a phone ringing so you blindly reached out for the side table and wrapped your hand around the nuisance “Agent Collins?” you answered and heard a familiar laugh on the other end “Y/N, it’s me” “Jody?” you shook Dean gently as you sat up “What’s going on?” she explained that a case had quite literally fallen into her lap and that she needed some help. Dean nodded and leaned up to speak into the phone “Give us enough time to wake Sam and grab our gear and we’ll hit the road” “Thanks you two” she replied before hanging up. 
You looked over at Dean who gave you a sly smile “Well sweetheart when you say you want to find a case you just manifest that shit don’t ya?” you shrugged “I’m good like that” and couldn’t help but laugh when he grabbed you by the hips to pull you over on top of him “And yet you want an asshole like me” you popped his chest playfully and shook your head “Don’t make me kick your ass Dean. We don’t have the time considering we told Jody we’d wake Sam up then hit the road” He was staring at where the buttons on your nightshirt had come loose and licked his lips slowly “Can I at least get a raincheck on that ass kicking then?” you rolled your eyes and leaned down to leave a quick kiss on his lips “Of course” 
------
When Dean pulled into the Sioux Falls sheriffs departments parking lot you spotted Jody standing next to her patrol car. You smiled as soon as you climbed out the impala “You three are a sight” she greeted with a smile of her own.
“How’s the shoulder?” Sam asked, causing you and Dean to exchange a guilty look. She laughed “Only aches when it rains. How have all of you been?” “Peachy” “Touch and go” Dean and Sam replied so she cut her eyes at you. You shrugged “Good days and bad”
She nodded “I know the feeling” “So what you got for us?” Dean asked, steering the conversation towards the case at hand. She stepped over and unlocked her trunk so you peeked inside to see the decapitated body. “Can I?” you asked motioning towards it and she nodded “Feel free” you leaned in far enough to push the upper lip back and check the gum line. The moment you pushed down a fang slid into view “Yup. That’s a vamp all right”
You straightened up then looked back at Jody as she slammed the trunk. “I don’t know Sammy, Y/N..looks like Jody might not need our help anymore” Dean teased and Sam added “Oh they grow up too fast don’t they?” you let a small smile slip onto your face at seeing the two of them like that again. Jody shook her head “Joke all you want, there’s more where this came from” “More?” you questioned so she nodded “My men brought in a runaway last night. There’s no i.d. On her, nothing on her actually except for a bus ticket out of Nebraska. Total Jane Doe she won’t even give me her name. Girl’s basically feral. She’s got zero manners, didn’t even thank me for saving her...anyhow this thing went to plenty of trouble to get at her. And to hear him tell it the others will want her at least as bad as he did”
“Sounds like a nest” Sam offered and you nodded as Dean agreed. “Nest?” Jody echoed then added “guessing that’s not half as cute and cozy as it sounds?” “Afraid not” you replied with a shrug.
------
You leaned against the wall close enough to intervene if need be while Sam checked the girl to ensure she wasn’t a vamp under the pretense of getting a dna swab. She looked between the three of you before scoffing “Wilson, Fisher and Monroe? If you three are feds then I’m Taylor Swift” you cocked your head to the side as you waited for her to elaborate and she did just that “That wasn’t a dental i.d. That was a fang check. You’re hunters”
You looked towards Sam then towards Dean who shrugged “And you’re alive because hunters trained the sheriff. I think the first words out of your mouth should be a thank you” She looked down without saying a word so you asked “Well who were you to that vamp? Hmm what’s so special about you to make him go through the trouble?” “Is there a nest?” Dean asked and the girl turned her head just far enough that you saw what appeared to be scars from fang punctures. Sam followed your line of vision and when she noticed the two of you looking she immediately turned to cover that side of her neck the best she could.
Before you could point the scars out to Dean Jody opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt but we got a match on her DNA” you nodded then looked back at the girl before following Dean and Sam out.
------
Jody handed each of you a missing child flyer “Annie Jones. Reported missing outside of Kenosha in ‘06. Raised by an elderly grandparent, no living kin” she lowered her voice before asking “You think the vamps are the ones who took her?” Dean spoke up first “Eight years is a long time for a human to live with vampires without getting killed or turned” Jody sighed “You’re the experts but there was something familiar about the way this vamp talked to her” “Jody’s right Dean. She has scars on her neck, feeding scars” you said and Sam nodded in agreement “They’re layered scars, as if they’ve been built on for years”
“So she’s a blood slave” Dean reasoned and at Jody’s confused look explained “We’ve seen it before, vampires keeping people as pets. Human feedbags” “Sometimes the slaves stay loyal to the captors” Sam added. “So.. this girl’s not talking because she’s got a case of vampiric Stockholm syndrome?”  Jody questioned so you shrugged “She’s protecting the nest. We’ve got to get her to tell us where they are. If they’d try to kill their blood bag no telling how many others they’ve slaughtered” You followed Dean and Sam back into the room Annie was sitting in.
------
Dean pulled out a chair across from Annie and glanced at you, asking if you were gonna sit down. You shook your head so he sat down then Sam sat next to him. Jody was standing by the door so you stayed on your feet as well.
“We get it, you feel like you owe a debt. They took you and raised you” Dean started so you added “Loyalty is a very powerful thing Annie” she glared up at you “My name is Alex” “No it’s not sweetie. Your name is Annie Jones”
“Those vampires stole you. They’re monsters Annie” Dean tried but she snapped “Alex!” “They didn’t love you Annie. They loved your blood, they fed on you!” you spoke but she raised her chin defiantly “I fed them. My choice. My brothers brought me food when I was hungry so when they struck out on a hunt, I fed them. They’re my family” jesus christ this poor girl was really traumatized. 
You cut your eyes at Sam as he started to speak “Ok, you care about them but Alex there’s a reason you decided to run away” “It was time to move on and get out on my own” Dean nodded “How do you think that decision is gonna sit with the rest of the nest? One of them already pursued you, you think when the rest of them find out that you left that they’re just gonna shrug and cut their losses?” “Alex, you lived with them for years. They’ve tasted your blood. They have your scent down cold. How far can you run and for how long?” you asked softly and saw tears start to form in her eyes.
“You didn’t think this out, did you?” Dean asked and she finally met his eyes so he continued “What would happen, who might get hurt. Your uh brother for one” “His name’s Cody” Alex said then looked over at Jody “And she killed him” “Because of a choice you made” you reminded her getting her anger off Jody. Dean motioned around “These are the consequences”
“You got two options. Them or you” Sam offered so you added “We can help you. We can keep you safe but you have to help us” “Where’s the nest?” Dean pushed. Alex shook her head “I can’t. After what happened..mama finds me, she’ll kill me” You looked over at Jody who looked just as torn for this girl as you felt.
------
With no other option Sam decided to use Alex’s bus ticket as a means to try to track where she’d come from. You stood next to the desk he was sitting at looking over his shoulder at the computer screen. Dean walked back over with a cup of coffee and bumped your arm holding it out. You took it from his hand and took a few sips while he asked Jody “Mills, you ok?”
Jody had been in deep thought until then but she finally said “No wonder she didn’t thank me. That creep was her brother” you handed the coffee back to Dean after drinking enough of it then Jody nodded “I’m fine, just thinking about the name. Alex and Annie..they’re so close already why change it?” “Maybe a connection to mama?” you considered and she shrugged “Maybe”
Sam looked up from the screen “Well we know from her ticket that Alex hopped a bus out of O’Neill Nebraska right?” “Uh huh” Jody said so he motioned to the screen “Obviously it’d be better to go in with a firm location but the town ain’t that big. They’re no caves or other natural hiding places” Dean looked at the map “All right, so we go in canvass it cold” Sam held up a small list “I’ve got a list of possible nest locations. Uh there’s an empty fire station, four or five derelict homes. Nothing we couldn’t hit in a day” “Ok” you said grabbing your jacket off the back of Sam’s chair and slipping it back on.
Dean looked in the room Alex was sitting in then back at Jody “You sure you’re all right to babysit by yourself?” Jody shrugged “Oh well, girl’s a flight risk. Not exactly friendly but I think I can handle babysitting detail” Sam glanced around before saying “Station’s been made. It might be worth heading up wind for a while. I mean vamps are trackers” “Well I’ve got an old family cabin outside of town” she suggested so you replied “That’ll work”
Jody sighed “Shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. Me being gone for a day” “Maybe you uh sure you don’t want backup?” Dean asked and Jody shook her head “You want me to enlist my men in a protection detail against vampires? Frank’s still in the dark about what hit him last night, that guy still has nightmares about the barn episode of walking dead. They’re good cops, they’re just not ready for this”  “Jody in your late night reading did you come across anything about dead man’s blood?” Sam asked and when she shook her head he explained “It takes vamps down like a horse tranq” She crossed her arms with an appreciative look “I would not say no to some of that..I mean not that I’ll need it. You three are gonna get the jump on these vamps and be back here before they even realize their kin’s missing right?” Dean and Sam shot her a smile so you asked once more before following them out “Sure you don’t want help keeping an eye on her?” she winked “Go with your boys Y/N” you smiled and said “We’ll be back before you know it” before heading out after Sam and Dean.
------
Once you reached O’Neill the task at hand was to check each possible nest location. The first few places were a bust but when you went to check the last house on the list it seemed like you’d hit paydirt. Evidence of multiple people squatting there was left behind in the house. “This is a foreclosure isn’t it?” Dean asked as you pushed a mattress to the side with your foot “Yeah just like the rest” he nodded “Well, somebody’s been squatting here”
Sam shined his flashlight towards one of the windows “Blackout windows” you shined across to the other windows and they were all blacked out. A loud buzzing noise started so you glanced towards the guys who nodded. Dean took the lead with you in the middle and Sam close behind you. 
The three of you followed the noise around to the back of the house where a man well vamp was feeding a body into a woodchipper. Dean motioned at you and Sam to take other sides so if he ran then walked up behind him “HEY! YOU NEED A HAND WITH THAT?” you gripped your machete tighter when the vamp turned the woodchipper off and turned to face Dean. You saw Sam out the corner of your eye pick up a shovel and whistled to get the vamp’s attention and when he turned Sam connected solidly knocking him out. 
Sam looked back at you so you nodded towards the vamp “Sammy you’re like a solid foot taller than me, I ain’t picking him up” Dean cracked a smile “Well you heard the woman Sam!”  You followed the two of them back into the house and stood to the side while they tied the vamp up.
------
Only a few minutes passed before he started coming around so you sat on the table with Sam while Dean stepped in front of him “You go out with the family, bring home a nice dinner. How do you get stuck doing the dishes?” The vamp glared at Dean as he said “We all have our roles to play” “Yours being destroy the evidence yeah?” Sam offered so you held up the wallets Sam had found “Nice job on that asshat. Let’s see we got Ralph Hedges, Stacy Kepler. Any particular reason you targeted them?” he looked up at you “Yeah. Hunger” then chuckled.
Dean stepped up to partially block the vamp’s view of you then glanced around “And so the family’s what? Out taking a nice after dinner stroll?” The vamp shrugged “Oh, I’m sure they’ll be back real soon” you watched Dean with an infatuation you knew you shouldn’t have been feeling at the moment when he walked over to the vamp and grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck forcing him to meet his eyes “What I asked was where are they?”
The vamp started laughing in response. You raised an eyebrow at him “Please tell me we didn’t find the short straw in the family. Did they leave you behind because you’re a liability?” He looked up at you and winked despite his current predicament being trapped by three hunters “Come a little closer sweetheart and find out” you went to stand up to do just that but Sam’s hand on your arm stopped you. 
Dean punched the vamp hard in the stomach “You don’t wanna tell us what we want to know? No skin off my back. Cause you see, a blood sucking,body-chipping vamp that’s bad enough. But vamps that kidnap kids? Well I’m going to enjoy putting you down” the vamp spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor at Dean’s feet “Of course, I knew this was about Alexis..I warned mama that girl would screw up everything for us one day.” “Mama? As in one vamp turned all of you?” Sam asked. The vamp shrugged again “Well, all of us but little sis. She was uh..too good to turn” he chuckled humorlessly “Mama couldn’t bring herself to,no matter what we said. No matter how bad Alexis got”
“Bad?” you questioned standing up next to Dean. The vamp looked between the three of you “Let me guess none of you ever had a teenage sister?” at being met with silence he clarified “Dragging her heels, whining, near constant about everything but more and more about the blood. Like she’s somehow above it, Like she’s better than us cause she don’t feed on people”
“She is better than you dumbass” Dean challenged. The vamp scoffed “Her moping? That teenage crisis of conscience crap? It’s annoying as hell but it’s just an act. When the chips are down she’ll always choose us over humans” he laughed again before asking “How do you think we stayed off your radar all these years? Pretty, young lost looking thing like her? Irresistible, especially to the kind of man few would miss. I mean sure we’d hunt sometime for sport but it’s a lot easier and safer to get delivery”
“She’s your lure?” you asked and he smiled “Best a vamp could ask for and you better believe you don’t get that good at it unless you enjoy it. In her own sweet way that girl’s as bloodthirsty as any vampire” you felt your stomach drop when you realized where the rest of the nest was headed “Dean..Jody”
 ------
When Jody didn’t answer yours nor Dean’s calls Sam called the local p.d. to run the victim’s names. Turned out they both worked at the bus station Alex had left out of. “So they killed them for Alex’s location?” you asked Sam who nodded. Dean’s phone started ringing and you breathed a slight sigh of relief to see Jody’s name light up across the screen.
You only caught Dean’s end but when he hung up Sam asked “We moving?” Dean nodded “I’ll meet you two outside” you started to walk out behind Sam but glanced back at Dean “Be quick” he nodded so you headed out behind Sam.
------
With Dean behind the wheel the drive from O’Neill to Sioux Falls went by quickly but it still took too long. The sun was already up when you pulled up to the cabin and when you spotted Jody’s still form you were out of baby before Dean was able to put her in park.
You slid to your knees next to her “Jody! C’mon!” you quickly checked her over and cursed in relief to find no fang marks. You slowly helped her to her feet “C’mon I got ya” Sam and Dean moved to help as well. “Where’s Alex?” She asked so you replied “You tell us” She shook her head “They came and I tried to stop them” “And you got knocked out, happens to the best of us” Dean assured her once she was standing on her own.
“Just lucky you’re alive” Sam added. “Think they went back to the nest?” Dean suggested so you nodded “Of course they would. Why wouldn’t they?” “Question is what are they gonna do when they find their brother dead?” Sam said and you shrugged “Then we go back”
“Ok, I’m coming” Jody announced. You weren’t going to argue with her but Sam stopped her with a hand on her shoulder “You’re hurt” Dean reminded but she shook her head “I’m coming” “We can handle the nest on our own” Sam assured her so she looked towards you “I don’t give a fuck about the nest. That girl was under my protection.” You cut your eyes at Dean who argued “That girl can’t be trusted. She’s a lure. She’s a honey trap. She’s been feeding people to those vamps!”
Jody stood her ground “I don’t care. Whatever she did, she did because they made her” “Oh and that’s a reason?” Dean asked so you spoke up “She’s a kid Dean. If we can save her, we should try” Dean looked a bit put off at you arguing on Alex’s behalf “Baby, she’s a kid that’s been playing vampire murder since before she was in braces. You know better!”
“At best her loyalties are screwed” Sam argued and Dean quickly added “She’s been baiting the hook for an entire nest for eight years Y/N. You know yourself she’s got more blood on her hands than most monsters we kill” “Are you saying she’s on your list?” Jody asked so you quietly said “Not yet but Jody I want to side with you I really do but with hunting monsters comes harsh truths. If it comes down to Alex or Sam, Alex or Dean, Alex or You? I’m killing her. No second thought”
Sam held his hand up to stop any further talking so he could ask “What is this really about? You barely know the girl?” You met Jody’s eyes and begged “Give me one reason I should risk my neck for her Jody. Please I don’t want to go gunning for a kid but I need to know why you think she’s saveable” Jody met your gaze head on “She screamed for me Y/N. She was terrified” you held her gaze then slowly nodded “Ok. Get in the car and I promise you unless it comes down to one of us or her Alex will be safe” she patted your shoulder “Thank you”
Dean turned his eyes back towards you “Y/N do you know what you’re doing?” you nodded towards the impala “I trust Jody and I know you trust me. If it comes to our lives or hers we choose us but if we can save that kid, shouldn’t we?” he shook his head then said “Ok” “Ok” you agreed and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips before heading to climb into the backseat next to Jody.
------
Dean stopped a ways from the nest so all of you could gear up. You and Jody slipped through the woods to check that they were indeed there. When you walked back up to the impala Dean handed you a machete and Sam handed Jody one. “So, We’re walking right into it” Sam scoffed, handing out syringes of dead man’s blood. Dean shrugged “We’ve faced worse odds.”
Jody started to walk off but Dean called her “Jody! This is a raid. Tread lightly and stay close. Priority is clearing the nest. Alex comes second you got it?” Jody cut her eyes at you but when you glanced away she simply said “Got it” Dean nodded “Y/N sweetheart you go with Sam, Jody you’re with me” you bumped Sam’s shoulder “Let’s do this”
------ 
You moved close to Sam as the two of you cleared the first room then the next. Dean looked around the corner so Sam shrugged. When you found stairs Dean nodded up towards them so Sam nodded then glanced back at you. You nodded then slowly followed him up.
Dean went one direction at the top of the stairs and motioned for you and Sam to go the other direction. You walked into a room behind Sam and you both froze when you heard a shotgun. “Drop the blades” you glanced at Sam before throwing your machete down. “Now let’s find the other one” you glared at the vamp who was holding you and Sam at gunpoint “You’re really gonna regret this” he shoved the barrel hard into your side “Move”
You slowly walked into the hall and called Dean’s name. When he looked up you could see the anger in his eyes. “Drop it” the vamp warned so Dean let his machete fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving yours.
You spotted another vamp coming behind him and shouted “Dean!” but couldn’t get the rest out before you felt something hit you behind the head and the world went dark.
------
You woke up tied back to back with Sam in two chairs. You immediately jerked at your restraints but the vamp shoved a gun into your face “Uh uh little lady” you glared up at him then glanced over your shoulder at Sam “You good?” he nodded but the vamp smacked you across the face for talking “You know it’s a hell of a thing to come home to. Your brother lying dead on the floor” and slammed the butt of the gun into Sam’s stomach to emphasize his point “You son of a bitch” you bit off and Sam groaned “Don’t” 
The vamp looked at you “We had no idea it was a Winchester that had killed him. So which one of these fellas was it?” When you didn’t answer he pointed the gun at Sam’s head “WHICH ONE TOOK OFF MY BROTHER’S HEAD?”   “It was me asshole” you lied knowing you’d catch the fallout but not willing to take the chance of them killing Sam or Dean. The vamp smiled “Love a woman with some kick to her” then chunked the gun to his brother who was standing over Dean.
He then walked over and grabbed a couple buckets and some tubing off the counter “This was a pretty good home to us before the three of you ruined it. Now we have to hit the road, find a new one and when we hit the road we like to pack a lunch” he held up the needles and you glanced over your shoulder at Sam. They planned to bleed the two of you and what? Shoot Dean? Fucking great.
------
You could feel yourself getting dizzier with every beat of your heart. You glanced down to see the bucket sitting next to you quickly filling with your blood as the one next to Sam was filling with his. “Dean” you called weakly when the vamp at Sam’s face said “These two are tapped. Prep the other”
When the vamp leant down to turn Dean over he drove a vial of dead man’s blood into his heart. The one crouched in front of you stood to attack and managed to get a solid hit in on Dean knocking him backwards across the table. You and Sam weakly pulled at your restraints but it was no use. You’d lost too much blood.
You’d never felt more helpless than watching Dean fight with a vamp and not be able to do anything. You could only see portions of the fight considering you were facing the opposite direction. You could hear Dean’s grunts as he struggled against the vamp and found yourself flinching at every blow you heard being passed. When you heard Dean say “Look at me..LOOK AT ME BITCH” you let out a ragged breath when the sound of a head hitting the ground quickly followed.
You let your head droop back against Sam as Dean quickly worked to free him and stop the flow of blood then was at your side. “Are you ok Y/N?” you nodded as he tore your restraints then helped you and Sam both stand up. “We gotta get to Jody”
------
By the time the three of you made it down the stairs Jody was beheading the mama vamp. You slowly lowered yourself to sit down on the stairs next to Sam’s legs. “Alex? You ok sweetie?” you asked softly and she shook her head “No, but I think I will be”
------
After a trip to the hospital, giving Alex the cure for vampirism and squaring her and Jody away at the cabin, you and the boys headed home to Lebanon.
You ended up falling asleep across the backseat and woke up when Dean leaned in to gently shake you once you were back at the bunker.  “Wake up sleeping beauty, we’re home” you smiled at him as he helped you to stand out next to the car. He eyed the bandage on your neck where the needle had been “Sure you’re ok?” you glanced towards his right arm where the mark was hidden beneath his jacket “Are you?”
He sighed “This about what Sam said?” you shook your head “I don’t cast no blame in taking pleasure in doing our job, I just want to make sure it was Dean enjoying it and not the mark”  “They knocked me out and almost bled my little brother and the woman I love dry. Mark or no mark I would’ve enjoyed that kill” you smiled and let him pull you into his arms “Well in that case want to head to bed with the woman you love? cause she’s still a little drug out” “Gladly” he replied leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before the two of you headed inside.
Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278 @brilovesdeanwinchester
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hunflowers · 4 years
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Hate Me or Love Me
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Word Count: 7.6k
Requested? Yes, and you can too, here :)
A/N: YAY the long awaited arrival of part 2 of Femme Fatale is here :D Thank you all so much for being so patient with me, I appreciate you all so much. The smut itself is 2k so enjoy ya filthy animals. And when you’re done, maybe throw a comment my way! *nose boops*
Everything was different.
In hindsight, this was expected. There was no way everything could simply stay the same and they knew that. They expected things to change, and honestly, they expected it for the worst. But, it was a good different. Everything was good, new, fresh, different.
Three months ago, when Harry visited Y/N at her office, nothing had been the same since. That much was clear when she straddled his lap and kissed him feverishly, losing themselves in a heated make out session, mindlessly dry humping one another until their lips went numb and their bodies felt overheated. She would’ve liked to have her way with him right then and there, but unlike Harry, Y/N liked to keep things in her office professional – besides this, which was a one time thing.
Once they separated themselves – well, once Y/N was able to remove herself from his lap because apparently he was a teenage boy that had no control over his sexual drive – they got to talking. And seriously talking at that because they knew they wouldn’t be able to go about their days anymore normally. They had to situate a common ground, a way they could run their businesses separate but cohesively without any bumps or forks in the road.
For a century, their city had been divided. Now, it was blending back together as a whole. Rough patches were inevitable. That’s why over the course of the last three months, Harry and Y/N dedicated their time to working on the city and its people and their livelihoods, hardly focusing on them as a pair and what this all meant as a step forward in their relationship.
But now, as everything was going smoothly just like they had hoped, they were left with nothing to worry about and were left with no choice but to sit down again and talk about their relationship.
They didn’t see themselves as dating. Dating would be the proper term but the two of them were hardly proper and the word just didn’t seem to fit who they were. Y/N didn’t think calling Harry her boyfriend sounded right and maybe it’s because she’s never really had one so the word was completely foreign to her or maybe it’s because she never expected Harry to hold the title, but boyfriend wasn’t exactly how she imagined him.
They were exclusive, that much was certain. About a month ago they were at a meeting and this guy had come up to Y/N and was all polite and sweet and had the courage to ask her to go out for a drink, but Harry stepped in, not liking the fact that someone had the audacity to come up to her, especially now, as he had these mushy-gushy feelings about her. If he would’ve done this months ago there would’ve been no problem. But, now that Harry got a taste of what liking Y/N felt like, he didn’t want to stop and he wasn’t going to let some random lad swoop in and take his girl.
Something of similar style happened in Y/N’s case too. Two weeks ago, after a long night of bullshit this and bullshit that, they went to their favorite bar. Y/N goes to the bathroom for one minute and when she comes back, she’s greeted not by one, not by two, but three women crowding around Harry. He didn’t look uncomfortable per se, because they were attractive women, but Y/N could just tell he wasn’t enjoying their presence. And this bubble in her gut –she deemed it to be jealousy, swelled the moment she saw one of them put their hand on his shoulder. If Y/N didn’t have any decency, she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt each and every single one of them, but Y/N’s a nice girl, so she went over to them very calm and with the most southern belle smile she could muster and made it very clear they were not welcome to talk her Harry.
Needless to say, they were shaking in their heels.
But, they weren’t dating.
They were simply exclusive.
Right?
Right.
Maybe.
They figured that this night was as a good as any to sit down and hash things out since business was a little slow on both ends, but it seems nothing can ever really go smoothly for them.
At around six, Harry knocked one the door to Y/N’s home, bottle of wine in hand, a kiss to the forehead delivered, and the smell of heavenly dinner wafting up through his nose. The sun was just setting over the horizon, a warm glow radiating through the large windows on the far wall that reeled in the romantic and dreamy atmosphere around them.
Never had Y/N imagined herself to be romantic, wanting to enjoy a candlelit dinner with some wine and with her guy, but she was surprising herself more and more these days, all of her attitudes shifting and changing the more she found herself around Harry. Same goes for him. He would rather be caught dead then settle down with someone, but alas, his morals were taking a hundred-eighty degree turn these days.
And maybe romanticism went a bit more down the sexual path the more they indulged into that bottle of wine. Leaving the remainder of their dinner to sit until Y/N cleans it up later, they moved themselves over to her couch – because that seemed to be their brand – and engaged themselves in another heated make out session. Except this time they moved past the teenage humping stage as Y/N gently shoved her hand into his pants and past his briefs, nails scraping over the patch of hair that trailed to his growing erection, her fingers maneuvering to pull him out and into the open. He hissed at the cool air conditioning encasing his throbbing cock, mouth falling open and Y/N leaned down to press a moist kiss to his tip.
And he knew, he knew he was about to get the best head of his life and she knew was going to give the best head of her life, but then the phone rang. They ignored it at first, letting it ring on as she sank her mouth down and around him, her warm, velvety mouth sucking him in like he was a lollipop. Her tongue flattened against his shaft as her throat constricted the moment he pushed further down her throat, a guttural moan escaping Harry’s lips at the mesmerizing feeling.
Then the phone rang again.
This time it was both of theirs.
Y/N removed herself with a huff, and Harry whined in discomfort, but they both reached for their phones on the table and answered hastily to whoever disrupted them. They both specifically remember telling everyone not to bother them for the rest of the day, yet it seems no one knows how to comprehend simple words.
“What–”
“Y/N I could not care any less if you were in the middle of having sex, you need to get to Central now,” Flo snipped on the other line, although from what Y/N could tell, it seemed like her best friend sounded nervous. And that concerned Y/N a lot.
Then Flo hung up without another word, which sent Y/N into a scramble of pulling herself together and putting some shoes on. Harry looked beyond confused at her while also trying to focus on whatever the person he was talking to was saying and then not another moment passed by before his dick was shoved back into his pants and he was running out the door with Y/N.
“This had to happen the moment I hit the back of your throat,” he scoffed as they waited for the elevator to reach them from whatever floor it started on.
Y/N turned her head to Harry slowly, looking at him with a straight face, and blinked her eyes before smacking him on the chest. “Not the time!”
From what Harry could gather from Will, who was basically the night-shift manager in his office, it seemed there had been a bit of riot down in Central City because God forbid anything go easy. It was no secret people were upset with the merge of the city, because all their lives they’ve grown to hate the other side, and it was understandable because change needs time. But it was fucking tiring having to deal with ignorant people stuck in their ways.
The drive never felt so long, especially with the few traffic heading into Central. It was normally a twenty-five minute drive from Y/N’s house, but this night it seemed everybody and their mother wanted to take a leisurely drive.
Harry and Y/N tried thinking of whatever this could be about, but for the past week there had been absolutely nothing for them to worry about, so this whatever this was really coming out of left field. And it pissed the both of them off to no extent that they had very little to go off of for whatever it was they were walking into.
Y/N tried to text and call Flo numerous times but in the timespan from the phone call to now, she hasn’t responded once. And Flo was always on her phone.
“What the fuck?!” Y/N screamed when her phone went straight to voicemail for the fifth time. It was ringing minutes ago and now there was nothing. Her heart rate had picked up immensely at the thought of something happening to her best friend, and all she could think about is how she would absolutely ruin whoever hurt her. They’re practically signing a deal with the Devil the moment they touch someone Y/N cares for.
They had a general idea of where to drive to because most of Central was occupied by old and abandoned warehouses that mainly housed business meetings and transactions every now and then. Besides that there was the one strip of bars and restaurants right in the middle of Central. Best bet was whatever was happening, was happening in that strip over some pathetic drunken fight. Although that wouldn’t make sense if it was some drunk fight, because Flo would never sound so shaky over drunk people.
Then they saw it.
In the street along the strip, a group of people surrounding others, guns in their hands to keep them on their knees, beneath them as if they were gods. And among the people kneeling was one who was lying on their side, and Y/N could recognize that blonde pixie cut from anywhere.
And then she was seeing red.
Everyone turned to the headlights of the car that was beaming at them, their guns immediately raised and ready to start shooting. Harry and Y/N exited the car with hands raised, knowing not to come off as a threat and risk their lives or the lives of anyone else. Even though it was tempting to go at them because it had been awhile since Y/N got her hands dirty, it was best she kept her cool.
When all of their eyes adjusted to see who was walking towards them, some of them took a breath of relief dropping the aim of their guns before remembering what they were doing in the first place before aiming it back at the group on the floor. Y/N’s eyes quickly scanned over who she was dealing with, not instantly recognizing anybody nor feeling intimidated by any of them. Quickly turning her eyes to Harry, she saw that his jaw was set in a tight clench as his eyebrows furrowed in anger, giving her the feeling she knew who these people were.
When they walked close enough, one spoke up, demanding them to stop where they were, and the way he slurred his words, it didn’t take an idiot to figure out he was plastered beyond comprehension. “Look who decided t’finally show up,” he snarled.
“Pat, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry growled, dropping his hands down to his sides as his hands balled into fists.
“Could be asking ya the same thing, mate. Last time I checked, we swore on our lives to be the enemy to her yet here you are showing up in the same fucking car. You get one taste of pussy and you suddenly become one,” this Pat guy laughed, swinging his gun around as if it were some toy.
Y/N couldn’t visually recognize Pat, but from the times her and Harry talked about business and who worked with them, she can recall the name Pat being thrown around and from what she could gather, Pat was pretty fucking important on Harry’s side. Guess it didn’t matter anymore because if Y/N knew Harry at all, he had a zero tolerance rate for anyone who goes against his word, and by tomorrow morning, this guy was going to be erased as if he never existed.
And if they weren’t in such a compromising situation right now, the idea of Harry holding such power would turn her on immensely.
Well, it is turning her on immensely she just can’t exactly act out on those feelings at the moment.
Before Harry could get another word in, Y/N stepped closer, gaining everyone to avert their attention to her, a few clicks of their guns to ensure that they were ready to be fired at any given moment. It didn’t phase her though, she was used to that sound more so than she’d like to admit. “You have five seconds to explain why you ruined my night before I ruin yours.”
Then someone that wasn’t Pat stepped closer to her, the nozzle of their pistol now pressed firmly into her temple, keeping her head forward. In her peripheral she could see the pale skin of the guy stretch upward into an open mouthed smirk, and it was then she could smell the overbearing stench of whiskey that masked him.
God, did he fucking bathe in it?
“As your boss, Pat, I’m telling you to save whatever dignity you have left and put down the guns–”
“And as your enemy, Pat, I’m telling you to put down the guns before you make any more regretful decisions.”
“And what the fuck are you gonna do abou’ it?” He laughed, genuinely laughed knees buckling a little as the alcohol consumed his inability to stop laughing. Practically everyone cocked their heads to the side to wonder what was actually so funny, eyes looking around to see if anyone else was laughing.
Nobody was.
Then, all in just a matter of seconds, Y/N stomped on the person’s foot beside her, heel of her boot digging into the toes of his, a high-pitched yelp of shock leaving his lips as she used her arm to knock the gun out of his hand before catching it in her own and smashing the butt of it into his nose, immediately a waterfall of blood gushing down his face and onto his clothes and onto the cement below them. He kneeled over in pain, a scream of anguish sounding in the air as she brought her knee up and into his forehead which knocked him backyard, his body collapsing to the ground in a heap of blood and cries.
That shut Pat up.
His hazy eyes widened in fear and nobody else knew what to do as they swayed from intoxication and cowered in fright. At this point, everyone that was once kneeling on the ground had managed to scurry themselves behind the two demanding forces, because that’s just how dumb these guys were. It made Y/N wonder how the fuck Flo was unconscious–
Right, Flo was unconscious.
Tracing her hand over the sleek black metal of the pistol, Y/N pulled back the slide, aiming the gun right between Pat’s puny little eyes, finger resting very close to the trigger. “Your five seconds are up.”
“Wait!” He pleas, eyes wide with desperation, voice laced with worry as the cool metal pressed against his forehead. “He told me to do it!” He shouted, hand pointing at Harry with a furious nod of his head.
Y/N’s eyes snapped to Harry who looked as confused as ever, but the way his hands rested on his hips and the way his lips were rolled into his mouth, there was some truth, or maybe all of it was true. “What’s he talking about?”
Harry sighed, looking down to his shoes in defeat which made Y/N all the more angrier. Harry pinched his eyes shut, then brought his line of vision to his girl. His girl that he couldn’t imagine wanting to hurt anymore. Yet the past always wanted to come back to bite him in the ass.
“Listen–”
“I’m telling the truth, you gotta believe me! It was all his idea I swear it!” Pat panicked beside Y/N, hands clasping together in a pleading motion, and when she looked to him, she could see the faint moisture buildup in his eyes.
There was a lot happening all at once, yet it also felt like nothing was going on at all. There was the claim Harry set this up yet in the thirty seconds it's been floating around in the air, there’s been no jump to deny it or explain it. And Y/N was feeling a whole lot of everything, and she would appreciate it if something could be explained so she could focus all of her energy on one emotion. And at this rate, anger seemed to nestle itself nice and snug inside her veins.
She’s seen Harry change over the course of the past three months. Honestly, she has, and she knows that deep in her heart he wouldn’t put their blossoming relationship at risk anymore; But something was also telling her this was exactly something he would do. He would use her just to get what he wants, and that’s all of the power. The power to be the sole King of the city.
And that broke her just a little bit.
Harry hasn’t made a move to say anything again, and that didn’t settle well with Y/N. Turning back to Pat, she kicked the shin of his left leg, knocking him down to the floor, keeping the gun against his skin, looking down at him with her nicest smile, hissing out, “Tell me the truth. All of it.”
He gulped, eyes bouncing between the two mafia leaders, before he kept his twitching gaze on Y/N. “He w-wanted to start a war. It’s been his plan for months – to end what his grandfather started and… take you down. Starting with her,” his head gesturing to the girl that still lay unconscious atop the cement.
Then the stressed look left Pat’s eyes, and his original smirk settled back on his greasy skin. “Did you think he actually liked you? Cared for you? … You said it yourself, you’re the enemy.”
“Y/N…” she heard him step closer, his fancy shoes scuffing across the ground. Y/N cringed at the idea of him being closer, so without really thinking about it, Y/N bashed the butt of the gun into Pat’s head, knocking him out, now having it aimed at the guy who’s managed to hold her heart in his hands and then crush it.
She shouldn’t be surprised and she will listen to what he has to say, but this didn’t change the fact that he wanted a war. There was always the tension that a war was bound to happen just to keep everyone on their toes, but Y/N never had the intention to actually start one unless necessary. She figured he thought the same because war meant a lot of unnecessary deaths were bound to happen and a lot of clean up and resituating the city that no one had time for.
Guess she was wrong.
“I would say I’m shocked… I’m not,” Y/N shrugged, looking at the gun in her hand before dropping it to the floor. Even if he wanted to hurt her, she couldn’t do that to him. Not now, not after everything they’ve worked for.
“I said it a year ago when I was drunk off my mind in a brief conversation! I wasn’t going to act on it, c’mon you know this, you know me,” he scoffed, hands never leaving the comfort of his hips. He stood as if he were her father scolding her for something ridiculous, and maybe she was overreacting a little over everything, but she didn’t take shit from her father and she wasn’t going to take shit from him.
“Regardless, your people hurt mine and that goes against the biggest rule of conduct. Fix your shit and get your own ride home,” she rolled her eyes, stepping over the body of the first guy who was still cradling his broken nose in his hands.
Y/N made her way to Flo, gently touching her to see if she would wake within the next few moments. From the way her lip was busted, the small bruise forming under her eye, and the blood drying in her hair, Y/N could tell she didn’t go down easy and she needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible to make sure she didn’t suffer from any long term damage. When she noticed her friend stir a little, eyes squinting open as she moaned in pain, hand flying up to caress her aching head, Y/N went to help her up, helping her walk to her car parked down the road.
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She really didn’t. She couldn’t be mad at Harry for saying something when he was drunk, because God knows the amount of things she’s said when she her blood was replaced with vodka, so it would be wrong to be a hypocrite. But she can’t trust that one time a year ago was the only time he discussed it. If it were something that was mentioned once on a whim, there would be no way Pat and his men would do something like this without some sort of order. None of it made sense and the more Y/N tried to think about it, the worse her headache got.
But the one bit she couldn’t stop her mind from reeling over and over again, like it was a broken record. Did you think he actually liked you? Cared for you? … You said it yourself, you’re the enemy.
Y/N never, ever got herself into relationships. She didn’t want one, wish for one, crave for one because with her lifestyle, it’d be difficult to keep up with. It wasn’t in her cards and for all of her life she was fine with that. But now that she got that taste of one, taste of something that resembled something of a relationship, she didn’t want to give it up. But did he like her? Or was it all some sort of show just so he could rip the rug right out from under her feet?
This was exactly why she didn’t do relationships. Because now she was getting too much into her own head and didn’t know what to believe anymore. And she would be damned if out of everybody on this fucking planet it would be him to break her heart.
When Harry saw her car speed away, he knew he fucked up. He felt something pang in his chest, in his heart when he saw her cold eyes for the last time. When she said she wasn’t shocked, her eyes looked bewildered yet defeated all at once and for Harry to know he was the cause hurt him. He was used to her being angry at him, it was practically how they lived their lives, but over the past three months, every time their eyes locked, he saw something else hidden behind them, flashing across them, dancing over them, like admiration and adoration. He would give anything to get that look back instead of the icy glare.
Picking up the gun that she dropped, a fit of rage washed over him as he realized he now had to deal with this group of idiots before him. They all looked as if they were going to shit their pants, and rightfully so because they knew what happened when anyone crossed him.
They get a bullet in their skull.
Maybe everything wasn’t so different after all.
❊ ❊
Moments passed by.
Silence.
Seconds passed by.
Nothing.
Minutes passed by.
Not a word was said.
They sat in gruelling quietude, neither of them jumping to break the tension.
It had been a month since they saw each other. That was mainly due to the fact they both had over inflated egos and didn’t want to be the first to cave. She was mad at him and felt it was necessary for him to want to contact her first because he was the one who had some serious explaining to do. And he did try to talk to her. He called her at least ten times a day for the first week, which she declined all of them. So, then he was angry and gave up and didn’t want to beat his already bruised narcissism. Then, when he didn’t call her again, she got even more angry that he didn’t want to try harder for her. So they ignored each other for three weeks after that. And when the silence became too overwhelming, Y/N decided to give him a call back, so it would seem she was taking the higher road and was the better person.
Then he ignored her.
It was all a competition, and it always would be between the two. Even when they didn’t really mean to make things so complicated, there was that underlying rivalry creeping back into their lives. Maybe it would never go away, and that’s okay because being rivalrous was their chivalry, and that’s what drew them together as partners both business and pleasure.
Eventually, they put their differences aside - or rather their similarities, and they finally discussed a time and place for when they should meet and actually talk about things. And they decided on a public restaurant to make sure they wouldn’t cause too much of a scene. Not that that’s ever really stopped them before but it was worth a try.
But, again, it was a battle of who would open their mouth first. This never ending cycle was kind of sickening, but it was also a little funny. They were laughing on the inside, but on the outside they could kill someone with their dirty looks. The poor waiter that had come over recognized who they were instantly and was already nervous from the get-go, but when he saw how miserable and angry they both looked, he was near shitting his pants. When he saw Harry send him a grimace at his presence when he approached the table, he wanted to cry. And if Y/N wanted to lose and break the silence first, she would’ve scolded Harry for being so rude to someone just doing his job.
But she wanted to win, so she kept her trap shut.
Of course, though, they both tied when they spoke the first time, at the same time. If being mad at one another wasn’t angering enough, but to both speak at the exact moment so neither could have the title of being winner or loser was near infuriating.
“I’m not mad y’know-”
“Look, I’m sorry-”
At her words, Harry looked a little perplexed, head tilted in confusion at her confession, a million thoughts now running through his head. If she wasn’t mad, what was with the silent treatment? What was with the icy look before she left him that shot right through his heart? He knows he deserved it so how could she not be angry? If the roles were reversed, Harry would expect a decent apology and to be honest, he’d probably, but he’d never forget.
Maybe that’s why he liked her so much. She amazed him in so many ways because no matter how similar they were, they did also have their differences. One of them being that Y/N would inevitably always be the nicer one out of the two. She had the reputation of being the nice boss. People preferred living on her side of the city a lot more than they did his, so even though it used to be illegal to move to the other side, people always found a way to emigrate. And right now, that much was clear that she’s a better person than him by a landslide. Harry would always admire that about her and could only wish that he matched her.
Taking a sip of his wine, he licked his lips in thought, gesturing for her to continue with her previous statement. Ladies first, after all. And even though she felt it was really his job to do a lot of the talking now, she was going to let it slide. “I did a lot of thinking this… break. I was mad at first, I’ll admit. Thinking after everything we’ve worked through for you to go behind my back and want to hurt me, well, hurt me and I hated that I let myself get to the point where you were able to hurt me. I was mad that I didn’t see it coming yet at the same time I did see it coming and didn’t do anything to prevent it. I was mad that my best friend got hurt because of you and it took everything in me not to put you in the same state she was in.
But, I realized that what I was feeling wasn’t anger, but… pain. What Pat said about you not actually liking me didn’t settle well with me at all and I got a little too into my head, thinking he was probably right and I’m the biggest fucking fool there is. Then I did more thinking and realized he’s fucking wrong. You’re not the same disgusting person I’ve known all my life after these past months, and I know you like me. You like me so much and I know that because I like you so much. So, long story short, I’m not mad. But, Flo is, so you better fucking apolgize to her,” Y/N concluded, reaching for her dry martini, finishing off the remaining droplets of it, observing Harry as he sat very stunned from her rambling session.
That was a lot more to take in than he anticipated.
At least she wasn’t angry. But he still had some apologizing to do and wouldn’t stop until she knew how sorry he was. She was right, he did like her a lot and he needed to fix this to the best of his abilities, because he wants her in his life liking or loving him rather hating him. What a sap he’s become.
“I will, I promise. I never intended for that to happen and I know with our past it doesn’t seem too far off, but I could never do something like that now. I was drunk when I first mentioned it, but I’ll admit the idea of a war had been brought up on a few more occasions past that. But when we first agreed to merge together, I made it very clear to my team that any previous ideas were to be thrown out because this was the new plan, and the plan I intend on sticking to. I don’t know why Pat did what he did, and it pisses me off to no end that he did it.” Taking a breath, Harry took a moment to gather his next thoughts, leaning forward on the table between them, green eyes never leaving hers.
“I know you said you don’t believe what he said, but I’m telling you myself, just to clarify your thoughts, that it wasn’t true. You’re not my enemy… anymore and I want you in my life. What we have is good and I don’t want to risk losing it. So even if you’re not mad, will you please forgive me?”
Y/N has to refrain from smiling brightly, biting her lip to conceal her laughter. The way he still wanted to apologize even if she declared he didn’t really need to, and the way his mouth formed itself into a small pout as he awaited her forgiveness was too cute to not want to smile at. She wanted to pinch his cheeks like a mother to her child and coo at him with all of the love in the world. Not hating him felt so nice and like such a relief that she couldn’t even comprehend how they lasted that long in the first place. Over the months she got to know him a lot better than she used to, and he’s one of the biggest dorks she’d ever meet, so not liking him simply didn’t feel like an option anymore.
Nodding her head softly, Y/N leaned across the table to capture his lips in a soft and quick kiss, ensuring that they’re back on good terms. Harry couldn’t hide the smile that flashed across his skin.
“Now that that’s settled, you’re paying,” she motioned at the checkbook that was just placed between them. He rolled her eyes at her before picking it up to read the total and reaching into his pocket to pull out his money.
They both stood up, pushing in their chairs and exited the restaurant practically different people from who walked in. They didn’t hold hands walking to their cars because that was just a little out of their comfort zones, but they did walk in step, arms brushing against one another as they kept stealing fast glances at one another through their sunglasses.
Stopping in front of her car, they stood chest to chest, goofy smiles planted on their faces that hardly seemed like they were leaving. Then of course Harry had to ruin the cute moment. “Now that that’s over, do ya think you can finish that heavenly blowie? M’practically itching to feel the back of your throat again.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one trying to please me?” She quipped, digging into your purse to get out your keys.
“You’re right, I’m also itching to feel you on my tongue. Sixty-nine?”
Somehow, that’s exactly where they ended up. On her king-sized bed, Harry’s cock down her throat again, her nose brushing against the taut skin of his balls, her dripping cunt resting over his face as he devoured her like she were his last meal.
Crazy how a day could change so quickly.
She gagged as his hips involuntarily thrusted upward into her velvet warm mouth, tears springing to her eyes causing her to rest her hand on his thighs and give herself a moment to breathe. He ushered a quick mewl of an apology, aching to get her back on him, his release impending. He knew she was sensitive and he tried his hardest not to rock his hips harder and more frequently, but when she was moaning around him, sending vibrations up his spine because his tongue delved into her pulsating core, he found it very difficult.
Dabbing at her eyes with her fingers, she took her hair and wrapped it around her fist to keep it out of her as she pushed herself as far down as she could on him. Harry let out a moan similar to that of a pornstar as she bobbed her head faster, his tip constantly pushing against her soft throat, which shook Y/N and had her thighs clenching around his head fiercely when she felt the familiar coil in her stomach begin to churn.
Harry removed one of his hands from the soft skin of her ass, admiring the nail and handprints he’d left in his wake before he took his thumb and focused rubbing fast circles on her clit while his tongue continued to lap up her juices and plunge into her sopping wet entrance. At the attention of her bud, Y/N was a mess, her work on Harry becoming a lot sloppier, saliva trailing down the sides of her mouth and onto her chin, dripping to his balls and onto the sheets below him. Harry could feel her spit travel from her mouth and onto him, and the vision of her mouth stuffed completely of his cock had him twitching in her mouth and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth and for her to come in his.
Removing himself for a moment so he could speak, he placed kisses along her pussy and thighs, words coming out after the smack of his lips to skin. “M’close baby… gonna cum in deep in your mouth – fuck, I know you’re close too… c’mon, princess, cum for me. Want you to soak my face, have your honey, shit – dripping down my chin.”
He always had a way with words.
Holding his balls in her hand and softly tugging on them and massaging them, without using actual words she was also encouraging him to cum down her throat, wanting to swallow every drop he had to offer. She wasn’t going to put all this work in for nothing.
And because these two were so insync these days and never letting the other come out as superior, they both managed to reach their climaxes at the same time. Ropes of his release flew down Y/N’s throat, and wave after wave of pleasure seeped onto Harry’s face, and both wouldn’t want it any other way.
Removing Harry from her mouth and moving her body off his, they both took a moment to breathe, never being so grateful to get a taste of fresh air. But before they relaxed too much, they busied themselves into a good old fashion make out session, enjoying the taste of themselves on each other’s tongue. Y/N separated their mouths to lick up the remnants of her on his chin, this having Harry’s cock practically shoot right back up.
Harry sat up against the headboard of her bed, situating themselves so Y/N was sat in his lap, her slit slowly guiding up and down against his shaft, quickening his recovery period.
“You’re not too exhausted, hm? Need you to fuck me good, H,” she murmured against the skin of his neck, biting on the flesh, planning to make it very evident that no one else had the privilege of touching him again.
He had the same thought process, except he didn’t care about other people, rather wanting to leave marks on her skin so she would remember who put them there and who would be the only one to put them there. Her poor ass was bright red as he kept grabbing and slapping at the battered skin, but he didn’t care. If she couldn’t sit, oh well.
He gripped her hips, forcing her downward to grind against his growing erection, giving her her answer. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t feel his prick nestle into her tight walls after this month of separation. Her pretty pussy is all he can think about these days and if he could keep himself inside of it forever, he would. So, yeah, he’s gonna fuck her good, with a hint of love making because he wants her to know that he’s hers for as long as she’ll have him.
“I’m nowhere near finished,” he replied, bending his head down, latching his mouth around her pert nipple, tugging on it with his teeth as his other hand reached for her other and pulled on it between his fingertips.
He took his time on her tits, paying equal attention to each nipple, swirling his tongue around them, lightly sucking and pinching, all of which was making her moan quietly into the otherwise silent atmosphere.
She kept the slow grind of her clit on his mound going, knocking her head back as she was in euphoria as he continued his assault on every inch of her body. She wrapped her fingers into his curly hair, tugging on the roots like he likes, his moans reverberating on her chest, hitting against her heart that pounded against its cage.
Removing himself with a pop, he smiled up at her with a boyish grin, reaching both hands up to squeeze her tits, pushing them together, imagining himself fucking them now, her chest slippery with spit and precum as he slid between her slowly, enjoying every second of it.
But he’d save that for another time.
“Gonna ride me, love? Can you do that f’me?”
She didn’t exactly want to, because even though she asked him if he was tired, she was a bit exhausted herself. She would certainly try to ride him, bounce on his dick with all of the power she has in her, but she couldn’t count on having energy forever. And something told her he wanted her doing all of the work all the way through.
Y/N wasn’t a pansy though, so she nodded her head and lifted herself onto her knees, feeling him bob up and his head hit against her moisture. Reaching down and taking ahold of his member, she tortuously moved him between her folds before sinking down on him, inch by inch, savoring the moment of connection.
They groaned in unison, electric pleasure shooting up both of their spines as he stretched and filled her to the brink. It took her a moment to fully adjust to his size before she rolled her hips forward, her spongy walls sucking him in.
Harry wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back so her throat was on full display, peppering hot kisses along the skin. “Feel so good, baby. Your cunt was made for me. Tha’s it, fucking bounce on me, get that ass moving.”
She whimpered at his words, mouth falling open as her eyes rolled back the moment she felt him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. Harry couldn’t resist resting his thumb on her tongue, and she couldn’t resist closing around it, sucking on it like a baby. Her tongue circled around it, gently biting on it that had him slapping her ass in response. Y/N cried at the impact, which also had her sinking down on him a lot quicker.
“Faster, Y/N. Act like you’re mad at me… ruin me, c'mon know you got it in ya,” he growled, taking his hand away from her face and gripping her hips again, thrusting up into her harshly to egg her on. He bent his knees which lulled her body closer to his, the angle pushing him a little deeper inside her walls.
Sweat coated their bodies as she worked herself to a faster pace, her hands resting on the headboard behind him. Her clit rubbed against his tuft of hair, sending her into a frenzy as her orgasm approached a lot quicker than before. She would be done for soon but she needed to make sure he wasn’t so far behind, and when she clenched down on him, hearing his whine of delight let her know it wouldn’t be long until he was coming undone.
“Harry… oh my God Harry.”
“We’re almost there, keep going. Harder, Y/N, you can do it.”
“Har–” She cut herself off the moment his hand wrapped her throat, lightly squeezing and causing her to now have to work for her air.
She crossed the finish line. She couldn’t help it as her orgasm suddenly shocked through her body, her thighs clenching and twitching around his, her hands holding onto his shoulders with a tight grip. She rode it out, crying at the sensitivity of her clit as she continued to sink onto him, waiting for him to follow.
Because she came, she felt this sudden wave of extreme fatigue, hardly finding the energy to keep herself upright at the moment and Harry noticed this. So, he pushed her body backwards so her back hit the soft material of her comforter, and now he put the effort in and pounded into her at a furious pace. His hand didn’t leave her throat and because he was a cocky son of a bitch, he attached his thumb to her hypersensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing a third orgasm out of her.
Y/N was crying at the sensation, her legs trembling as she released again, his cock completely coated in her wetness, the sound of their connecting genitalia heightening at the increased moisture between them. Admiring how much of a mess she looked beneath him, her hair a scattered mess, throat and chest littered in love bites, thighs and ass bright red and bruising like a peach, he decided why not add to the collection.
Pulling out of her, much to his dismay, he pumped himself a few times in his hand before he let out his second round all over her thighs, pussy, stomach and chest.
He was satisfied to say the least.
Both of their chests were heaving, their breathing patterns working oppositely, she breathing in and he breathing out. Harry laid himself down beside her, eyes drooping closed in utter contentment, a smile dashing across his face as he and his girl lay completely worn out.
“I need… to get cleaned… but too… tired*,” Y/N murmured in a pant, not finding the energy to wipe off his cum that littered her entire body.
“I quite like the way you look,” he started, flipping to his side and caressing her soft cheek under his palm.
“All fucked out, and all because of me.”
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illfoandillfie · 4 years
Text
5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Picture Perfect
5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST
Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader
Summery:  A whole day with Ben's family and no way to escape. How will you survive? And will any rules be left intact by the end of the night?
Warnings: SMUT (finally lmao), nothing like super kinky but it is explicit, plus the usual stuff,  drinking, mention of smoking.
Words: 6284
A/N: ARE YA'LL READY FOR THIS? smut scene is marked with a *** so you can skip it if you like.
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Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor  @hannafuckingsucks  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @queenlover05
@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @im-an-adult-ish​
A week later you were in the passenger seat of Ben’s car, your bags in the back, watching the scenery pass by. You found your eyes drawn to him more often than usual but he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was that he was so focused on the road and the traffic around you or maybe it was because you were playing I spy and a few glances from the person who’d spied the object were expected. I spy was a good game. Distracting enough to focus your mind on something other than wanting Ben. For the most part at least. “And we can definitely still see it?” “Yuuuuuuup,” you popped the ‘p’ and glanced over at Ben again. “And it starts with ‘M’ but isn’t ‘Mazda’ like what’s driving behind us, or Mars Bar like what I was just eating?”” “Nope,” you popped the p again and laughed, “d’you want a clue?” “Go on then, otherwise we’ll be stuck like this all day,” “We’ve been following them since we got on the motorway,” Ben’s forehead creased as he thought about your clue, “Truck doesn’t start with ‘M’,” “Clever boy. You deserve a gold star for that one,” “Bite me,” You laughed and gave in to the temptation to look at him again, noting the crease of his forehead as he thought about your clue, “Should I just tell you?” “Fine, I’m never going to get it at this rate,” “I spy with my little eye a mudflap girl. Two of them actually,” “What the fuck is a mudflap girl?” You pointed at the silhouette on the tuck’s mudflaps, “Her. The chick with the stupidly pinched in waist and big knockers.” “Is that what they’re called?” “What knockers?” “No, I’m perfectly familiar with those,” Ben laughed and you whistled teasingly, willing your mind to stop picturing what it was picturing “Shush, I meant the mudflap girls, is that what they’re called?” “Yeah. You didn’t know?” He shook his head slightly, “Never really came up.” “Sorry, would have picked something else if I’d realised,” “‘s fine. Just means I won’t hold back with the next one.” You’d been a little nervous at the prospect of driving hours with just Ben for company, still coming to grips with the fact you wanted to knock boots with him. You couldn’t even think about it in direct language, just roundabout phrases your mum used to use. But, thankfully, all your concerns had disappeared the moment you got into the car, infected by Ben’s bright smile and insistence that he’d make it fun. His definition of fun was a lot of classic driving games, hence the I Spy, plenty of road trip snacks, and a healthy dose of a specially curated driving playlist. You’d made fun of him for including I’m In Love With My Car on it but he just turned it up louder and sang it at you which only made you laugh more. It stopped any awkwardness or uncomfortable silences in their tracks. But all the laughter and playful teasing was just another reminder of how close you were and that made you think about how badly you wanted to do the dirty with him, hear him whining your name, feel his hands all over you, cuddle up with him and doze as he read to you. You shook your head as the third image sprang to the forefront of your mind. That wasn’t right. Bumping uglies was one thing but dozing was out of the question. Unless it was in a post-coital come down of course. Not that any of it mattered since you weren’t going to act on it. Joe had made it very clear that something actually happening was a bad idea. Although, looking at Ben now he didn’t seem to be that bad off. Certainly not white knuckling it as Joe had said. He was happy and bubbly and you couldn’t see a single sign of him falling apart. What did Joe know anyway? He lived so far away, how could he possibly know what was good for Ben or, for that matter, you.
Halfway there you found a place to pull up so you could stretch your legs and refresh your snacks but then it was back into the car for the second leg of the trip, winding through the traffic until it thinned out and you pulled up outside a nice white house with a tidy yard. “This is it?” you asked, the nerves back in full force. “Yeah, you good?” You just nodded your head but Ben gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “Remember the plan, yeah? Hold hands as much as we can, look as loved up as possible, just like what we do for the cameras. What’s our story?” “Met at the audition for Edith since you’d already been cast. Hung out a lot as prep for the movie. You asked me out a couple of days before filming began and we dated secretly for a while but then, partway through filming, we were caught by paparazzi and decided to be open about it.” “Very good. What el- shit, no time for the rest of the pop quiz, the front door just opened.” “It’s okay, I’m good. We’ve been doing this for months now, it’s just more of the same.” Ben nodded and then let your hand go so he could get out of the car. You opened your door and stepped out, smoothing out your skirt, your hand cold outside of Ben’s grasp. But he fixed the problem, taking your hand again as he led you towards the front door and the person who’d come out onto the driveway. He squeezed your hand again. “Hi mum. This is Y/N,” “Well it’s about time,” his mum said, already stepping forward to hug you, forcing you to drop Ben’s hand “lovely to meet you, darling.” “Pleasure to meet you too Mrs Jones,” you smiled politely as she stepped back. “Oh, Angela, please,” her hands were still on your shoulders as she examined your appearance, “Gosh aren’t you pretty.” You managed to stutter out a thank you, suddenly feeling much more shy than you normally would have. “Oh c’mon mum, let her go.” “I’m just saying she’s beautiful, what’s wrong with that?” but her hands fell from you as she turned her attention to Ben, “I still think you’re very handsome too Ben. Need a bit of a haircut though.” He rolled his eyes but hugged her all the same. “Mikey’s already there setting up with your father and I expect you’ll be giving him a hand soon?” “Can I not have five minutes out of the car before I get piled up with chores?” Ben whined as you both followed her inside.
She led you on a brief tour of the house, pointing out where the bathrooms were and coming to an end at Ben’s old room where you’d be staying. She promised you enough time to grab your bags and freshen up before you’d be asked to help and then she headed back towards the front of the house. You peeked inside the bedroom door hoping to see what teenage Ben’s sense of style was but it had since been redecorated. “Don’t look so disappointed,” Ben laughed, “Mum had the whole house redone a few years ago and it didn’t make sense to keep my room how it was.” “Please tell me there’s photos here somewhere,” “Probably but you’re not seeing them,” “You have to tell me something, I’m your girlfriend and I need to know.” “Fuck off, you do not,” “Please?” you extended the word in a childish whine, pouting at him until he broke. “What d’you want to know then?” “What’d you have on your walls? Band posters?” Ben laughed, “Uhhh, a few sports things – my favourite teams and that. Some girls with big tits leaning all over cars…Couple of theatre posters too,” “Nerd,” “Shut up,” he laughed again, pushing against your shoulder, “Sorry about Mum by the way,” “It’s totally fine,” “I promise it’ll all be over soon,” You were taken aback as he wrapped you up in a tight hug but very happily relaxed against him. Carefully, so as not to break the moment you looked up at him only to find him looking back at you. It was the closest you’d been since the almost-kiss in the hotel. Sure, you’d been close, even hugged before, but not in this long, lingering way and even then, it was mostly just in public. A sharp knock at the door made you break apart. “Sorry to rush you but Mikey’s just called asking after you. Better get a move on,” “Who’s Mikey?” you asked, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the air. “My brother, Michael. S’pose we should crack on. You’ve got about twelve bags to pull from the car.” “Fuck off, it’s only two and one of them’s a hand bag. Plus, it’s you’re fault for not being more specific about dress code.” You hadn’t known exactly what to pack and got no clear answer when you’d asked, so you’d packed a few different outfit options, from casual jeans and a nice blouse to a slightly more fancy little black dress, the clutch you’d taken to the French restaurant packed with it in case you needed a stylish purse. “You’re such a drama queen. Just help me with them yeah?”
You would have known he was Ben’s brother even before you’d heard about him. His face was thinner and his shoulders less broad but they had the same smile, same eyes. He was lovely too, jumped down off a chair and dropped the coil of fairy lights he’d been holding so he could shake your hand and introduce himself. Then came their dad, maybe not quite as warm as their mum but just as welcoming. Both you and Ben were handed lengths of lights and sent off to find places to hang them. Inside it wasn’t necessary since the restaurant was already lit up, staff busting about making sure everything was ready for that afternoon. So Ben led you away from the big open door, into the beer garden. It was mostly paved, small shoots of grass sprouting up through the bricks, though there was also a large strip of grass at the very end of the yard. Ben’s brother and dad were on one side of the yard, securing their lights to the fence so you and Ben headed straight for the grassy end where the light of the restaurant wouldn’t quite reach. “Wait here a sec,” Ben said, handing you his coil of lights and turning back towards the paved area. You watched as he dragged on of the sturdy wooden tables over to you. At the first scrape of the wood on the brick he looked inside to see if anyone was going to go mad at him but, aside from his family members, no one noticed. When he finally got it in position, he climbed up onto the table and held out his hand for the lights. You kept lookout as he wound the wire around a tree branch and then jumped down again, handing the end of the lights to you so you could wrap it around the tree trunk and secure the battery pack out of harm’s way, as he pushed the table back into place. It wasn’t long before the yard was covered with lights extending from the doorway all the way to the fence that blocked the yard from the road. Of course, all that work meant you deserved a drink so, by the time Ben’s mum and other family members began arriving in the late afternoon, you were already halfway through your first glass. Ben gave you a running commentary of everyone who walked into the restaurant. “That’s my cousin and her daughter. And the couple behind her are my,” he thought for a moment, “Well let’s call them cousin’s too because I don’t know how seconds and removals work. The bald guy over there talking to Mum is my great uncle. And the woman who just waved is an Aunt. Whatever you do, don’t mention her son. He’s had a run in with the law and it’s a touchy subject.” “Noted. But shit, when you said family get together you really meant it,” “Yeah,” Ben laughed, “The Jones’ don’t do things by halves. ‘Specially not when there’s drinking involved.”
As the place began to fill Ben took you around to meet people. You felt a little like the ball in a pinball machine, bouncing from one person to another, introducing yourself and then moving on to someone else, almost immediately forgetting any names you’d just been told. It was almost like doing interviews again except with more movement and more alcohol. Ben kept a hold of you, either interlocking his fingers with yours or else wrapping his arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side, only letting you go to grab you another drink or light up a cigarette. At one point you had a small crowd gathered beside you, all pointing out things they’d seen in magazines or on the internet about you, all wanting to hear about how you met. Thankfully you’d become quite practiced at telling the story. “We met at the audition actually,” Ben said, “I had the part but they wanted to try me with different actresses to find someone that would work well on screen. I’d met, I don’t know, eight or nine women and then Y/N came into the room. She looked kinda nervous,” You shook your head in disagreement but Ben ignored you. “but we got a chance to say hi before we had to read the lines and we just clicked.” “Our director really liked us together so I got a call back and we did another scene,” “So they could, y’know, see us kiss, make sure the chemistry was there.” “They must have liked it because I got the part. We did a couple of weeks of all this, um, like, bonding stuff. The rest of the main cast was there too but me and Ben had a few one on one things because we were playing a couple that was already engaged so they wanted us to look really connected.” “Anyway, I wanted to ask her out after day one but I wasn’t sure if I should because we’d be working together,” “I took a little longer to see him in that light but he was so sweet and charming and fun to be around, and by the end of the week I was thinking the same thing. Only neither of us wanted to make the first move because if it wasn’t mutual then it could make the next few months of work really awkward.” “Eventually one of the other actors pointed out how into me she was so I asked her out for a coffee and it went from there.” He returned your smile and then pulled you closer into his side, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as you leaned against his chest. “Well your casting director knew what they were doing because you two are adorable together.” A few more questions followed but eventually Ben was able to extract you from the crowd with the excuse you needed more drinks. “Actually, I gotta run to the loo, I’ll bring some food back with me though, okay?” “Okay, I’m gonna grab another cocktail, you want anything?” “Beer’d be great,” “Sure thing, babe,” He smiled again as he left you but you were smiling too. There was something fun about the act. Even with everything that had happened and how mixed up and hard it had been at times, an evening like this was fun. He made you laugh and made sure you felt comfortable in what could have easily been an extremely uncomfortable situation. Plus, it meant you got to indulge the part of you that was still fantasising about being with him. You were allowed to kiss him and touch him because you were acting. There was no confusion about why, no worries about if you were crossing the line you’d put down, nothing to stop you from enjoying it. So what if occasionally your fantasies extended beyond just doing the horizontal tango? It wasn’t so bad to think about cuddling up in front of the TV with him.
Drinks in hand you headed back to where Ben had disappeared, trying to spot him in the crowd. “Y/N!,” You spun round to see who was talking, finding yourself face to face with Ben’s mum again. Angela, you reminded yourself. “Come join us over here,” she said leading you to a table where a few others sat, “You’ve met my husband Keith already, yes? And this is Doug and Katherine. This is Y/N, Ben’s girlfriend.” You took a seat and chatted with them, glancing around for Ben every so often. Eventually Doug and Katherine got up to talk to someone else and Keith went off in search of more food, leaving you and Angela alone. “Now, darling, Ben tells me you’ve got a work thing to get back home for tomorrow so you’ll be leaving a bit earlier than originally planned.” Angela said, patting your hand. “Yeah, um, it’s an audition,” you lied. It was a cover Ben had come up with so you didn’t get guilted into staying an extra day. “Well that does sound important. I’m sad we won’t have longer to get to know you though. I must admit, I saw a photo of you and Ben a while ago and I was hoping he’d bring you up because you just looked so lovely. And you obviously make him very happy, which is of course what every mother hopes for. So you have to come back soon so we can have a proper chat. Make a weekend of it or something.” You were a little taken aback, stunned to hear how much of an impact you’d had without meaning to. It made you feel a bit guilty. This was Ben’s family and you weren’t part of it, you shouldn’t be there. But you swallowed the doubts, tried to ignore how much you wanted it all to be real, and smiled back at her, “I’d love that. Just say when.” “Oh now don’t tempt me or I’ll have the date picked out before the end of the night. I don’t want to jump the gun or seem too forward but just seeing how you two are together…I hope you know you’re welcome in our family. Ben loves you a lot, I can tell.” “I know. And it’s very kind of you,” “I mean it darling. And if the next family get together was your wedding, well….but of course that’s neither here nor there.” You laughed it off but your insides were churning. “So this is where you got to,” Ben’s voice interrupted as he dropped into the seat beside you and lay his hand on your knee. You hadn’t realised your leg had been bouncing but you stopped it the moment he touched you. “I was just telling Y/N that you should come back again soon, when there’s no auditions to interrupt your stay.” “Sure, Mum,” Ben said, still touching your leg. You chatted for a bit longer until she got distracted enough for Ben to lean into your ear and softly ask, “You okay? Or do you want to get out of here?” “Please,” you whispered back. “Okay, follow me,” He took your hand and told his mum he wanted to introduce you to someone but you barely heard it, your head buzzing as you made a polite exit and let Ben lead you outside, making excuses to anyone who tried to stop you. As soon as you were clear of the venue he pulled out his phone to find a car, one hand on your lower back, rubbing soft circles over your shirt until you felt you could breathe easy again. “Better?” “Thank you. How’d you know?” He shrugged, “I just know you. I saw your leg bouncing and figured Mum had said something,” “She mentioned us getting married,” “What? Why the fuck would that have come up?” “It was just a passing comment but I….” You half shrugged, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay, c’mon, let’s go home you can tell me everything.” You nodded and let him hug you as you waited for the car.  
Once you were inside Ben grabbed a couple of glasses from the kitchen and then headed into the dining room. “Thank you dad,” he mumbled as he pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label out of a cupboard and turned to show you, “He’s kept a stash of this stuff in here since I was a kid. Got in trouble for stealing some a couple of times.” “Better not let him find out about this then,” you laughed, feeling more relaxed now that it was just you and Ben, a sizeable distance from the rest of the party. Ben chuckled along as he poured a little into each glass and carefully replaced the bottle, “So what happened back there?” “I don’t know,” you accepted your glass and took a sip, leaning against the corner of the table. Ben didn’t cut in, he just took his own drink and waited until you could say more. “I guess it was just harder to be around your family than I was expecting. It wasn’t the same as sitting in a restaurant on a date,” you drew the quotation marks in the air with your fingers, “That was a room full of people who care about you and they were all so lovely and welcoming and your mum said she’d been hoping you’d bring me here since she saw a photo of us and invited me back so she could get to know me and I said I’d love to because what else could I say and she seemed so happy about it and so pleased that you’re so happy and I feel so guilty about lying to them all. What if they find out? Your mum’ll be so disappointed.” “Don’t worry about lying to them, I’ve done it plenty before,” when you didn’t laugh he put his glass down beside you and took you free hand in his, “Seriously, Y/N, there’s nothing to feel guilty about. The premiere is coming up in a couple of weeks and then pretty soon after that we’ll break up and I’ll tell them it just wasn’t working, and they’ll accept it and never have to know the truth. And then we can forget this whole thing and move on.” You weren’t so sure that was what you wanted anymore, but you weren’t sure enough to say it. Instead you put your glass down as well and said, “but it must be hard for you too. Having me here and everything.” It was only when you looked at him that you realised how close you were standing. He was still holding your hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your fingers. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to do it, the drink maybe, or just pent up sexual tension, but he was so close and he was looking at you with those eyes and before you could stop yourself you leaned in to kiss him. He seemed a bit shocked, taking half a step back, and you were sure he was going to tell you it wasn’t a good idea and then leave you standing there alone. But then his hand was on your jaw as he kissed you back, all hesitancy gone. You felt him sigh against you as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting for this to happen again, and pulled him in closer.
***
Maybe it was the months without sex, or maybe it was how often your mind had conjured similar scenes, or maybe it was just how good it felt to have him press you against the table to kiss you again, but whatever the reason it wasn’t long until you were pushing the hem of his shirt up over his stomach. He took the hint and stopped kissing you just long enough to pull it over his head, quickly finding your lips again as his fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt. He got about halfway through and then stopped, instead dropping his hands to your arse so he could lift you up and carry you up the hall towards his room. He kicked the door shut once he was through it and pressed you against it, kissing you as if to make up for lost time. It was a heady experience, being pinned to the door, your legs wrapped around him as you kissed messily. Too much and not enough all at once. You needed him closer still and clutched at his shoulders to try and make him understand. Either he really could read you well or he wanted the same thing because a moment later there was no longer a door behind you, Ben taking the few steps towards the bed and letting himself drop to the mattress. He pushed your shirt from your shoulders, no longer needing to hold you up, and ran his hands over your sides as if trying to map out he lines of your body. A whine escaped you as your need to remove layers grew and you dropped your hands to his belt, fumbling blindly with the buckle. A voice in your head told you it was a bad idea. You still weren’t certain of your feelings, weren’t sure doing this would cure you of them or if it’d just make everything messier than it already was. But the voice got quieter with every shift of your hips and every stroke of his fingers. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he mumbled against your neck. All you could manage was a small whimper of agreement as he kissed you again, and traced his fingers up to the clasp of your bra. It was on the floor in seconds, his hands replacing the material, only making you want more. You arched your back into his touch, panted against his lips. He smiled, circled a nipple with his thumb, delighted in your response.
Suddenly he flipped you over so you were sitting on the bed, kissed you again and then stood up. “Ben?” you were worried he was going to put an end to things before they got too far. Thankfully he didn’t, just shucked off his pants. You almost laughed in relief as he leaned over you again, making quick work of the fastening of your skirt so it too could join the clothing on the floor. The voice in your head was gone, silenced by the pure desperate need to have him touch you more, and he was making no moves to stop it either as you shuffled further up the bed, pulling him along with you. You let out a choked off moan as he kissed a trail down your neck, tilted your head to the side so he could reach all the spots that made you gasp. But it still wasn’t enough. You were going to go crazy with need if you didn’t get something more soon, so you let your hand fall between you, rubbed your palm over the front of his boxers, felt him rock his hips against your hand, already hard. He sat back on his knees so he could slip your underwear down your legs. “Fuck,” he groaned as soon as he realised how wet you were. You grabbed his wrist and put his hand between your legs, hoping he’d take the hint. He did, trailing his fingers between your lips, over your clit. Your breath caught as he slipped a lone digit into you, slowly, easing you into it before he added a second. He watched you closely, eyes half lidded and soft, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth like he was concentrating on memorizing every inch of you, inside and out. Even in that moment, when your breaths were coming shaky and uneven, and your skin was burning under his gaze, even then all you could think was how hot he looked, hair ruffled, lips kiss swollen, completely enraptured by you. He shifted his finger slightly and your eyes fluttered shut. “There, babe, fuck, right there,” you sighed. “Like that?” he asked softly, twitching his fingers against you again. You nodded though he drew a more vocal response from you a few seconds later when he added a third finger and leaned down to suck your nipple between his lips. He hummed when he heard you say his name and repeated the same motion in the same place, so you said his name again, louder, and then again and again as he kept going, hitting you exactly where you needed him. You were almost surprised by how quickly he managed to pull you over the edge. Almost. But it had been a while and he’d always promised he was good. He worked you through it before he carefully withdrew his fingers and kissed you again, stealing what little breath you had left.
And then he stopped. Sat back again. You blinked your eyes open and reached for him as he leaned over the edge of the bed, opened the draw of the beside cabinet and swore. Pulling himself back towards you he took your outstretch hand and kissed the back of it, “I don’t have any condom’s here,” he sounded apologetic. “I have some, wait,” you kissed him quickly before you stood, a little unsteady, and opened the wardrobe door, thankful Felicity had given you the handful of them and that you’d brought the bag with you. He looked like he was about to ask why but the sight of you climbing onto the bed, straddling him, with one hand on his chest to lay him down, made the question die in his throat. He let his head fall back onto the pillow as you pulled his underwear off and rolled the condom on as quick as you could manage. And then you sank down onto him, trying to take your time. “Fuck,” you whined, pausing to give you both a moment to adjust. His hand grabbed onto your waist, fingertips pressing into you, encouraging you to move. It was soft but not quite, both of you panting and groaning as you raised and lowered yourself on him, building up to a steady rhythm. His hands roamed over you, grabbing your arse the way he had done on his couch, moving over your breasts, squeezing your hips, gentle but firm pulling you to speed up each time. You needed to be closer though, so you leaned down to kiss him again, grunting at the change of position. But it interrupted your flow, made you stutter out of time, so Ben propped himself up on his elbows, and then when that wasn’t enough, sat up fully, his knees rising behind you. One hand was braced on your back to keep you steady as you circled your hips, the other cupped your cheek as his forehead leaned against yours, every uneven breath audible, able to feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest under your palm. “I love you,” he sighed, his nose bumping against yours as he searched for your lips again. You were on the verge of repeating his words back to him when he dropped his hand from your cheek, let it fall between you and brush against your clit, the confession lost in your moan. “You gonna c-cum for me?” You nodded, leaning into his neck as you did your best to keep riding him, legs shaking with the effort and your approaching release. He didn’t let up until you were crying out into his shoulder, following close behind you with his own moan.
***
You lost track of how long you sat there, leaning against each other as you came down, lost track of where you were, lost track of the reality of your relationship. Your instinct was to keep clinging to Ben, keep kissing along his jaw and nose as you pulled yourselves back together. But it was too much for him. He let go of you suddenly, as if just touching you was painful. “I’ve gotta…” he said with a half hearted nod in the direction of the doorway. “Oh. Right, yeah,” you climbed off him, trying not to react to the sudden emptiness, the sudden cool of the air outside of his embrace. Ben moved to the edge of the bed, glanced at you, ran his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you offered somewhat lamely, not sure how to explain everything you were feeling. “Neither. Are you okay?” “Yeah. I, um, it was really good and I-I think I kind of needed it.” This was it. There was no more running from what you were feeling. No more pretending it was platonic or just physical. You had to come clean, to yourself as much as to Ben. Ben smiled but it was a pained kind of smile, “It was good for me too. Really good. But it can’t ever happen again.” He stood up before you could say anything else, tied off the condom and put his boxers back on, making a hasty retreat. Something stirred in your memory and you had the sudden urge to tell him he couldn’t leave you because he owed you a third orgasm, but it was too late. He was gone and you were left sitting there, naked and alone, waiting for him to come back so you could explain. When enough time had passed without his return you got up, put your pyjamas on and went to the bathroom, running on autopilot as you considered everything that had just happened. Maybe Ben was right to walk away. Maybe it had been a mistake. He probably wouldn’t believe you if you told him how you really felt. You’d taken too long to work it out, been too vocal about not feeling it. And it would be poor timing to say it right after you’d slept together. He’d think you were saying what he wanted to hear so he wouldn’t be embarrassed about saying it himself. And maybe it was down to all the tension between you. You’d spent all day pretending to be the loving girlfriend after all, maybe it had influenced you a bit, made you think you felt things you didn’t actually feel. But something that good, that tender, didn’t just happen with anyone, surely. It certainly hadn’t been like that with anyone else you’d been with casually. And you’d assumed that having sex with Ben would be the solution, that you’d finish and be fixed. No more thinking about him, no more wanting to be with him. But all you really wanted was to cuddle up beside him. Fall asleep in his arms. That wasn’t something you usually wanted from one night stands. Normally you’d want to get out as fast as possible not sit in their bedroom and wait for them. And the thought of everything else that could happen if he just knew it was what you wanted – waking up beside him, making him coffee, listening to him play stupid love songs on his stupid guitar, comforting him on bad days, being his actual fucking girlfriend and not just his pretend one – all of that sounded so fucking wonderful. It couldn’t just be endorphins making you feel like that. There had to be something of substance behind it all. Afterall they’d been there for a while now, those feelings. It wasn’t like the sex had conjured them. You’d been pretending not to notice them but they’d been there for months. So the only way forward was to tell him.
When you got back to the bedroom Ben was there, curled away from you on a makeshift bed on the floor. He could have been sleeping except his shoulder’s were too rigid, holding too much tension. “Ben?” He didn’t respond, just kept feigning sleep. So you switched out the light and tiptoed to the bed, crawling under the covers. The sheets still smelt like him and it made your heart ache. What if you just said it? You sat up, turned your head in his direction. “Ben?” it came out as more of a whisper than you’d have like so you tried again, “Ben, I-I-” If you said it now would he join you? Or would he pretend he hadn’t heard? You fell silent again at that thought, not sure you could cope with it. Maybe you’d just hold off for a bit. Wait until the premiere. Give yourself time to find the exact right words to explain your apparent change of heart. He couldn’t write you off as trying to spare him some embarrassment if you said it weeks after he’d let it slip in the throws of passion. He’d have to take you seriously then. “Goodnight,” you sighed, and lay down again, though try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. You lay there in the dark, sure Ben was just as awake as you were, with only one thought in your head. You loved Ben. And you didn’t know what to do about it.
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pickalilywrites · 3 years
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hi everyone!!! here’s the eretra au that a few of you might remember from my wip posts a few months (?) ago! i’m really excited about it, so i hope you guys like it. it’s very loosely based off a kdrama called big, although there aren’t very many similarities. i hope you guys enjoy it :) 
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My First Love Come Back to Me
Eretra. Big AU. 
I’ll Love You in the Rain or Shine Series: Chapter 1
12788 words. 
Read on Ao3!
Eren stands in the deli section of the grocery store staring down at the premade sandwiches that have, judging by the wilting lettuce and stiff-looking squares of cheese stuffed between dry bread buns, been sitting there all day after being passed over by other customers for more enticing premade meals like the colorful, little sushis in their plastic containers or the burritos so stuffed with filling that beans are practically spilling out of the tortilla wraps meant to contain them. He looks at one particularly sad-looking sandwich. Turkey chunks and droopy lettuce leaves are shoved inside a stale bread loaf. Tomato juice from the poor fruit that was cut to make this depressing sub bleeds out from the bun, dripping onto the plastic wrap that can hardly hold the thing together. A strange assortment of veggies also poke out from the bread - bright yellow bell peppers, chunky strips of carrots, and slices of onions - but they look as though someone has carelessly dropped them into the sandwich because they’re not even evenly dispersed through the sub. It is, Eren thinks, the most wretched sandwich he’d ever laid eyes on. 
It’s a little sad, the fact that Eren is spending so much time picking out something to bring to a family dinner that he would claim, if anyone bothered to ask, to not give a single shit about. And, really, he doesn’t, but it makes him feel slightly better about going to those miserable gatherings if he’s able to bring something he knows his stepmom will hate. Except she’s not really his stepmom. To be more precise, the woman is his father’s first and only wife - the bastard having never married Eren’s mother - and his half-brother’s mother. In all honesty, Eren can completely understand why the woman hates him. He is, after all, a constant reminder of his father’s infidelity. It’s not like Eren likes her either and, with all of the snide comments about his upbringing and disappointing career path (although Eren has no idea why that is any of her business), she hasn’t given Eren any reason to. 
Eren looks down at the sandwich again, leaning towards not getting it. As much as he would love to purchase it and slap it down on the dinner table with a cheerful smile, there are only so many times he can buy disgusting sandwiches for his family dinners. He really outdid himself last time with a self-made sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients (blue cheese, coriander, tuna, onions, cherry tomatoes, the works) that had no business being slapped between the same two buns. He even remembered not to toast the bread buns. Apparently, the only thing his father’s wife hates more than sandwiches are untoasted sandwiches, but not everyone can afford a $300 panini press like she can. Apparently, any panini press with a smaller price tag can’t be called a real panini press. Eren only half-regretted his decision to bring the disgusting thing to his father’s house an hour later when he sprinted out of the house and biked half a block away to empty the contents of his stomach on the edge of a poor neighbor's sidewalk. No, a normal deli sandwich would be a step down from his previous contribution to family dinner, Eren decides. 
He walks up and down the aisle of the grocery store, taking his time even though he’s already a half-hour late for dinner. (He’s doing them a favor. Nobody in their right mind should be having dinner at five when the sun is still high in the sky.) His green eyes glaze over tubs of soup and plastic bins filled with salad. For a moment, he wonders if he should walk through the shelves of chips on the other side or maybe into the frozen food section so he can haul a tub of melting ice cream to his father’s house, but he wonders if that’s too petty. It’s probably best not to, Eren thinks with a grimace. He doesn’t want to ruin junk food for himself forever. 
In the end, Eren purchases a little tub of potato salad, hoping that it’ll be enough to piss off his Disney-esque sort-of stepmother. It’s not perfect, but he supposes it will do. It’s probably not as grotesque as the stuff he’s brought before, but he likes how simple it is. That woman’s definitely going to be miffed that Eren bought potato salad as if he cared so little that he couldn’t be bothered to spend a few minutes in the kitchen to make the same dish. He’s really going to enjoy seeing the vein on her forehead pulse when she sees him standing at the door with the potato salad. 
Eren thanks the cashier for ringing up his purchase, sliding two dollars into the charity box next to the register, and walks away with his tub of potato salad, whistling as he practically skips out of the grocery store. He hadn’t taken as long as he would have liked; there are still fifteen minutes before six and he had hoped he would burn enough time to arrive at six-thirty, but maybe he can take a roundabout way to his dad’s house, Eren thinks as he drops the tub carelessly into the front basket of his bicycle. He unlocks his bike with a click and pulls it off the bike rack before mounting it and pedaling away. 
Taking the direct route would be too quick. Eren quickly pedals across the road as soon as the road is clear and finds his way to the creek that cuts across the suburbs. It’s the same creek Eren used to play beside when he was a child. He fell in there once trying to catch a frog and his mom scolded him for being so reckless. It’s also the same creek that he frequented during the spring of his sophomore year of highschool when he was assigned to do a bug project, which Eren hated especially when the same project was no longer mandatory after his school cut the science department’s funding the year after. Eren doesn’t think he’s visited the creek ever since he graduated from high school. He blames it on college and summer internships taking up all his time and never really allowing him to return to his youth, but the truth is that Eren wouldn’t have sought out his childhood even if he had the time. 
It’s not that Eren had a terrible childhood. In fact, Eren would say that he had a fairly happy childhood. True, he grew up in a (mostly) single-parent household, but his mother was always patient and attentive to him even though he was a pain the ass about 75 percent of the time. Nothing incredibly significant happened. He didn’t win any awards and he never made the honor roll, but his mother was fine with it as long as he did his best. It was strange, but he got a lot more shit about his grades from his sort-of stepmom than he did from his own mother. He’s not particularly sure what his father thought about it. Eren’s father never said much of anything to defend him, but his father hardly said anything to him at all. It was kind of like not having a father at all, so it wasn’t really that surprising when Eren found a way to avoid his old neighborhood completely after his mother passed away after his senior year of high school. 
Eren hadn’t planned on returning so soon. Actually, he hadn’t planned on returning at all after he had left for college. He only came back the summer after freshman year, but he bummed it at his best friend Armin’s house and only ventured as far as Armin’s front lawn. The following summers he crashed at his ex-boyfriend’s house - an art student-turned-tattoo artist who somehow ended up setting up a shop in the city Eren and Armin grew up in - or Armin’s dorm when they were both working at their internships. Somehow, they ended up landing jobs back in their hometown because evidently the big city did not want them and they were too young and broke to go up against the universe. Maybe another day. 
It’s not that bad. Despite renting an apartment near his neighborhood, Eren hasn’t run into any childhood friends that might still remember all the embarrassing things he did as a teenager. He’s bumped into a few parents at the grocery store that would smile up at him and talk about how nicely he’s grown while reaching up to ruffle his hair. Other than a few childhood friends and the “family” he feels obligated to meet due to the biological bond he unwillingly shares with his father, Eren has successfully avoided most of his past. 
He pedals past his old middle school, zooming past the gates and grimacing as he remembers the less pleasant parts of his past - struggling with algebra, running a mile at seven AM, and the terrible school uniforms they forced on everyone in a strange attempt to boost standardized test scores. He’s happier when he crosses the street and is greeted with the lit-up shops - the convenience store where he’d happily slurp down slushies with Armin after school, the Chinese restaurant that his class would frequent every year for Lunar New Year’s, and the bakery store that always smelled of freshly baked tarts and pies. Eren’s pedaling slows as he approaches the bakery and he inhales deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of buttery baguettes and chocolate tarts. The aroma is so distractingly sweet. His mouth begins to water at just the thought of them, and Eren wonders why he hadn’t bothered stepping foot in the bakery since coming back. He’s about to stop his bike and pop in for a brownie or a lemon bar only to realize that he’s biking far too fast and about to crash into someone. 
“Shit!” Eren’s bike screeches as he swerves out of the way and he crashes into a pole so hard that he can feel his teeth rattle. He topples to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he rolls over onto his side that didn’t get smashed violently against a pole. When he opens his eyes, he sees stars as well as the face of an old man that he had last seen a decade ago. Eren tries to sit up, but his side is throbbing and he can only clutch at his side, trying his best to suppress a groan so as to not startle the man he had nearly collided with. He gives the man a weak smile. “Hey, Mr. Ral. I haven’t seen you in a while.” 
The old man’s mouth, which was already open to begin with after seeing Eren’s embarrassing bicycle collision, falls open a bit wider. “A-are you … okay?” he asks after a while, squinting a bit as he looks at Eren’s face and tries to place a name to it. Eren doesn’t really blame him for not remembering who he is. It’s been quite a while since they’ve seen each other and Eren has grown up a lot since then.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bump,” Eren says, laughing it off. He manages to sit up and pushes himself off the ground, standing up and brushing off the little pebbles that have managed to stick to his face and clothing. He picks up his bike, leaning it against the pole before turning to the man again. “It’s Eren, by the way.” He pauses, observing Mr. Ral’s expression. When he sees that the man doesn’t recognize him, Eren politely adds, “Eren Kruger. I’m Zeke Jaeger’s younger brother.” 
A spark of recognition finally lights up in the old man’s eyes at the mention of Zeke’s name. Eren’s not going to lie, but it kind of hurts. “Ah, Zeke,” Mr. Ral says fondly. Eren shifts from feeling hurt to feeling slightly jealous. “How could I ever forget him? And you, of course. You two used to play with my dear Petra back in the day.” 
Petra, a name that Eren hasn’t heard in years, and yet hearing it still makes him blush like a young schoolboy. He ducks his head, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, and he prays that Mr. Ral doesn’t notice the sudden flush of his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How is, ah, Petra doing?” he asks. He had meant to ask the question casually, but he stumbles over the words a little too quickly. 
“Petra? She’s well,” Mr. Ral answers with a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his laughter lines deepen. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered Eren is. “She just started teaching at the same university that Zeke is teaching at.” 
That’s certainly news to Eren. Zeke hadn’t mentioned that at any of the family dinners Eren had attended recently. It could just be because Zeke hadn’t run into her yet or it had simply slipped his mind, but Eren kind of doubts it. If Petra’s father knew, then it’s highly unlikely that Zeke didn’t know. As much as Eren wants to frown, he fights the urge to turn the edges of his mouth downward and gives Mr. Ral a thin but polite smile. “That’s great to hear. What does she teach?” 
“English,” Mr. Ral replies, his chest puffed out proudly. It’s endearing how much he adores his daughter. “She teaches some upper-division classes on creative writing and a few classes for freshmen on critical reading and writing.” 
Eren’s smile is more genuine now, more fond as he listens to Mr. Ral speak about his daughter. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She was always really good with words.” He remembers lazy summer afternoons lying underneath the shade of a tree and pretending he was sleeping so that he could listen to Petra talk to Zeke on the front porch. It wasn’t even that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just liked the sound of her voice. Eren wonders if it’s still as wonderfully soothing and soft as he remembers. 
“And what about you?” Mr. Ral asks, snapping Eren out of his reverie. The old man seems to ask out of polite obligation. It figures that he isn’t really interested in Eren’s life. After all, he hadn’t remembered that Eren existed until five minutes ago. 
“I just graduated a few months ago. I majored in child education,” Eren replies. He looks down feeling slightly embarrassed although he’s not sure why. It feels like a step down from Petra’s accomplishments. His sort-of stepmom would certainly agree. She enjoys rubbing Zeke’s doctorate in Eren’s face whenever she gets the chance. Eren clears his throat and adds, “I’ve been working at Liberio Daycare. It’s near Shiganshina Elementary.” 
It’s unclear whether or not Mr. Ral recognizes the name but he nods and reaches over to give Eren a pat on the arm, a grin on his face as if the old man is actually proud of him. “That’s good! Your parents must be proud.” He doesn’t notice the way Eren flinches and carries on. “It’s good to hear that you’ve been well.” 
“Likewise,” Eren says. His eyes wander towards the bakery. It hadn’t occurred to him to look for Petra before, but now that he knows she’s back in town he can’t imagine doing anything else. He half hopes that she’ll be inside, maybe clearing the display for the night or wiping down the countertops, but all he sees is a girl his age at the register munching on some lavender bars that hadn’t sold. Before he can stop himself, Eren finds himself asking, “Is Petra in?” 
“Petra?” Mr. Ral asks with his eyebrows raised. Maybe it does seem out of the blue that Eren’s asking. Petra was always more Zeke’s friend than Eren’s. Mr. Ral gives Eren an apologetic smile and a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not. She told me she was eating dinner at a friend’s house. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Maybe you two can catch up sometime.” 
Eren shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but he can feel himself deflating at Mr. Ral’s words. He really doubts Petra would want to meet up with him. It’s not as if they were incredibly close before. Still, he gives Mr. Ral a gracious smile and says, “That would be great! I should probably get going. I have to, ah, eat dinner…” His voice trails off and he looks to bike only to find the front basket empty. Eyes straying further, he finds that his tub of potato salad had rolled out of his bike basket and onto the ground where it lay pitifully. Thankfully, the tub hasn’t broken and the potato salad hasn’t spilled out, but somehow the salad looks even more pathetic than it did when Eren purchased it. It’s something Eren would have been happy about fifteen minutes ago, but it’s embarrassing now. Quickly, he goes to pick it up and drop it into his bike basket with the slim hope that Mr. Ral wouldn’t think much about it, but Eren has never been that lucky. 
Mr. Ral must find him pitiful because he asks, “Why don’t you take some dessert home?” He’s already heading back into the bakery, gesturing for Eren to follow him despite Eren’s protests. “If you don’t, they’ll just go to waste. Or into my employee’s stomach, and goodness knows that she’s already eaten enough desserts today already.” 
“Thank you so much, sir,” Eren says, humbly bowing his head. 
“Sasha,” Mr. Ral calls the girl at the register. “Could you ring up a few things for Eren?” 
The girl’s head snaps up at the call of her name, her cheeks filled with pastry and crumbs all over her mouth. “Sure thing,” Sasha says, gulping down the last of her lavender bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walks over to the side, Eren following her on the other side of the counter, and washes her hands hastily. As she wipes her hands dry with the hand towel, she looks at Eren brightly and asks in a chipper voice, “Do you have anything you want in particular?” 
Eren’s eyes scan over the display, but he doesn’t really look at anything in particular. He just wants to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He’s embarrassed himself quite enough for today. “Just … whatever you’d recommend,” 
“Alright-y,” the girl hums, taking a bag and stuffing it full with little tarts and tea cakes and croissants. Eren looks at her briefly, realizing that he doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved here sometime during the past six years when he wasn’t around. 
As Sasha finishes preparing the bag, Eren walks over to the register and gets ready to pull his wallet out but Mr. Ral walks over, shaking his head. “No need to pay for it,” Mr. Ral says. He reaches over the counter and takes the bag from Sasha, presenting it to Eren with a smile. “Consider it a treat. Really, you’d be doing me a favor just taking it. They would have gone to waste otherwise.” 
“Ah, thank you,” Eren says, his face flushing once more. He takes the bag from Mr. Ral with a small bow of his head. “It was great seeing you again, Mr. Ral.” 
“Likewise,” Mr. Ral says with that same crinkly smile. He walks Eren to the door, watching as Eren packs the desserts alongside his potato salad. “Take good care of yourself, Eren, and tell your brother I said hi.” He waves as Eren assures him he’ll do just that, returning to the shop only once Eren has biked away. 
This is not how the night was supposed to go. Eren was supposed to be wandering around the neighborhood with his potato salad before waltzing into his father’s house an hour late, his sort-of stepmother silently fuming at the dinner table while the family sat and waited for him. He hadn’t planned on bumping into his childhood crush’s father, and he certainly hadn’t planned on looking so incredibly pathetic in front of Mr. Ral. He can only imagine what Mr. Ral will tell Petra when she sees her dad tonight. Maybe something about how he grew up to be such a loser even though his half-brother managed to graduate with a Ph.D. and is now a successful anthropology professor at the local university. It’s not something that usually gets Eren down, but thinking about it now is making him feel especially miserable. 
Eren’s not sure why the thought of Petra knowing how his life is so embarrassing. He hasn���t spoken to her in years, so her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And even if she did have an opinion of him, he’s sure it wouldn’t be unkind. Petra had always been nice to him even when he was a kid and just being an annoying third wheel to her and Zeke. When his childish admiration of her turned into puppy love and eventually evolved into a full-fledged crush, she never brushed him off or thought him annoying, although there was a chance that she just never noticed. He couldn’t blame her for that when Zeke, honor roll student and valedictorian Zeke, was always standing right in front of her. He wasn’t even surprised when they started dating. It was inevitable. And when they eventually broke up for some reason that Eren still isn’t quite sure about, Eren knew he’d never be able to compare so he never tried to pursue her. It’s not surprising that he and Petra ended up losing touch. 
As much as he would love to blame Zeke for it (and it would be incredibly easy for him to blame Zeke), he can’t. Maybe it’s strange that he doesn’t harbor a deep hatred for his half-brother. Their relationship has all the makings of a classic sibling rivalry - a complicated family history, stark differences in accomplishments, and affections for the same girl - but Eren could never bring himself to hate Zeke. Even if Zeke’s mother liked to hold all of her son’s accomplishments over Eren’s head, Zeke himself never bragged about them. In fact, he was quite humble and would even offer to help his younger half-brother if he was struggling with something in school. Oftentimes he would invite Eren to hang out with his friends even though their age gap made it a little awkward. He even remembered Eren’s favorite snacks and would make sure they were in supply whenever Eren came over to visit. If Zeke’s mother was an evil Disney stepmother come to life, Zeke was that one fairytale sibling that was kind to the tragic main character, so Eren had no choice but to like Zeke. Even when Zeke broke up with Petra and Eren couldn’t understand why, when Zeke told Eren that it “just happened,” Eren kind of left it at that and accepted that because he couldn’t imagine Zeke doing anything wrong. 
Could Eren be classified with an inferiority complex with regards to his brother? Probably, but most siblings can. Eren would have to challenge whether or not someone with inferiority complexes would admire their brother as much as he does, but they might in a weird way. Eren’s sure that he and Zeke’s relationship would still be complicated even if they didn’t have all the weird history with Eren and Zeke’s parents. 
Eren sighs as he flies down a dip in the road, letting gravity carry him down instead of pedaling. He really doesn’t feel like he’s in the right headspace for this family dinner. Usually, he lets all of that woman’s snide comments ricochet, but his armor has grown weak and he can just imagine her landing the right thinly-veiled insult, her words burying into his skin and hitting right where it hurts. For a moment, Eren considers calling the dinner off with an excuse that will be sure to piss his stepmother off — probably something about how he has to restructure his lesson plan for the upcoming week — but he glances down at the potato salad and bag of baked goods in his bike basket and realizes that he really doesn’t want to eat them all by himself. If he’s going to suffer, he might as well make the rest of his family suffer alongside him. And besides, he’s pretty much already at their house anyway. 
His bike slows as he approaches the white-picket fenced house. He takes the potato salad tub and the bag of baked goods before leaving his bike on the driveway, not bothering to chain it to the fence because nobody would want to steal the old thing he bought from a garage sale anyway. The sight of it lying in front of the house instead of properly locked up will be sure to piss off that woman too, which is just an added bonus. With a sigh, Eren marches up the front steps, shifting the food all on one arm so he can ring the doorbell. The familiar chime rings out, muted from behind the wooden door. A muffled voice mumbles something Eren can’t hear, but he already knows that the speaker has nothing good to say about him. 
The door is thrown open and Eren looks down to see his stepmother glowering up at him, blue eyes a raging storm. “You’re late,” she hisses. She doesn’t even give him a greeting; she just stands there in front of him silently fuming. Behind her stands Eren’s father. As expected, he says nothing to defend his son’s tardiness. The man just stands there, uncomfortable as he quietly observes. 
“Sorry, Dina,” Eren says, squeezing past his stepmother who makes an indignant noise. He dangles the food he brought in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she snatches the bag from him only to wrinkle her nose in disgust when she sees the potato salad. “I brought dessert, too. Do you want me to put it somewhere …?” 
Dina snatches the bag of desserts from him too, still huffing. “We have a guest tonight too. Do you know how rude you’re being?” she says, continuing to nag at him even though Eren has stopped listening to her years ago. 
Eren’s father gently grabs Eren by the elbow, subtly ushering him inside to avoid any more conflict but Eren yanks his arm away. 
“Well, maybe if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have showed up on time,” Eren snaps. He sounds angry as he says it, but he really does mean it. It’s one thing to be rude to his stepmother, but it’s another thing entirely to be rude to a guest he doesn’t know. He’d at least wait for introductions before deciding whether or not to show any manners. 
Before his stepmother can say anything more, Eren stomps off into the dining room where Zeke and the guest are waiting. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning, as he pulls out his chair - the one furthest from everyone - and slumps down into it. “Sorry, I’m late,” Eren mumbles, still looking down. 
“Eren,” says a deep voice that Eren recognizes as Zeke’s. Hearing the voice of someone other than his stepmother’s makes Eren relax a bit and he rests with his back against his chair, a little more at ease now. He can hear Zeke’s small smile as his half-brother asks, “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 
“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke who sits across from him, and then at the guest. He looks so quickly at first that he doesn’t register exactly who he’s seeing until he does a double-take, his green eyes widening as they take in the woman sitting there. It’s someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again, much less sitting at his family’s dining table, and he’s so surprised that he almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks it might just be a doppelganger, but there’s no mistaking the soft dimples that appear in her cheeks as her lips curl in a smile. “...Petra?” 
“Hi, Eren.” Petra’s voice is still as gentle and soothing as Eren remembers, the sound of it so honey-sweet that he feels his cheeks bloom a soft pink. There’s so much about her that’s different, but there’s so much more that’s the same. Her hair is shorter now, no longer falling right at her shoulder, but curling right under her chin in a short bob. It’s the same shade of ginger it was when he was a kid. If it’s under the right light, it would probably burn a fiery gold. Her doe eyes are the same pretty amber, sweet and dangerously entrancing at the same time. She’s even dressed differently, her button-up blouse and slick gray trousers such a departure from the casual jeans and t-shirts she wore ten years ago when Eren was still in high school. Eren feels horribly underdressed - his ratty university sweatshirt over a thin cotton tee and his ripped jeans are so shabby in comparison - but a glimmer of silver on Petra’s wrist attracts Eren’s attention to the charm bracelet she wears, jangling with charms that Eren remembers her collecting in her high school days, and he feels a little less like he’s meeting a stranger and more like he’s reuniting with an old friend. 
“How are you?” Eren asks shyly, his smile bashful. 
“I’m well,” she answers, and Eren feels himself melting into her voice the same way he did when he was thirteen. When she smiles, her head tilts ever so slightly to the right just the way it did when he first met her and her dimples deepen into her cheeks. “How are you?” 
“Good,” Eren answers because he doesn’t trust himself to string together more than a word or two at a time. He wonders if she realizes how he’s unraveling at the sound of her voice or if she’s as oblivious as she was the last time. 
“I’m glad,” Petra says, and the warm look Petra gives Eren reignites a flame in the pit of his belly that he had thought he extinguished long ago. Her head tilts a little bit more to the side, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you,” Petra tells him, and Eren finds himself in love once more. 
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
There are rules to dealing with your ex-boyfriend after you’ve broken up, Petra knows, but it’s been ten years and she figures that these rules can be bent. So what if the last time she saw Zeke she was broken-hearted, crying in the rain as he turned his back on her? She was younger then, her feelings out of control for someone who didn’t care for her nearly as much as she cared for him. And, sure, maybe it’s terrible that she never received the closure that she deserves, but she can’t hold a grudge against him forever. They work in the same university and cowering behind the nearest trashcan every time they meet doesn’t seem to be a viable option. Petra’s older now and so is Zeke. They’re mature. They can be friends like adults are after they’ve broken up, so the universe should be able to understand her accepting Zeke’s dinner request that evening even if her friends couldn’t. 
She only started to regret her decision when Zeke offered to drive her there after his classes ended - saving gas and the planet, he explained - and she agreed. Although Petra repeatedly told herself that it was a simple family dinner and that such an invitation was extended to Zeke’s other friends on occasion, she found herself sitting impatiently in her office, biting her nails down so close to the quick that her fingers started to bleed. Having to bandage her fingers as she waited did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves. 
“I don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Levi tells her over the phone. He taught in the mathematics department, but they had met after Petra had nervously stumbled into the wrong building and into his office on her first day at the university. The man has a perpetual scowl on his face, and that very same expression had nearly sent Petra running until she weakly explained that she must have gotten lost and he kindly redirected her to the building her office was located in. She thought that was going to be the end of their interaction until he emailed her shortly after asking if she had gotten to her office alright. Finding him a kindred spirit, he had become her first (and sadly only) companion at the university aside from Zeke. “If you’re friends with him, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” 
“Well, it’s just that I haven’t really seen him since we, you know, broke up,” Petra explains, but she doubts that Levi understands. She had told him her history with Zeke a few weeks ago after he asked her why she was so jittery at the faculty luncheon, but he didn’t have much of a reaction. It was sort of nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t as hyperbolically reactive as the rest of her friends, but it was also painfully difficult when Levi didn’t show her any sympathy. 
“You saw him last week when you were at the library to look for reference books,” he reminds her as if it were the same thing. “I don’t know why this dinner has you in a panic. You left me nearly a hundred messages while I was teaching class.” He hadn’t even replied to her texts, the bastard. He had simply left her on read until midnight before sending her a thumbs-up emoji to let her know that he had read her messages, which was not exactly the response Petra was waiting for. 
“This is different!” Petra insists, but she knows Levi will never see it that way. 
“You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” Levi says. She can hear him scribbling something on the other end, probably correcting exams for his differential equations classes and marking a poor student’s paper in an abundance of red. “Either cancel or just go to dinner with him. You’ve had family dinners with him even before you guys got together right?” 
“Yeah, but that was back when we were kids,” Petra mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 
“Then you’ll be fine,” he tells her. 
“You’re horribly unsympathetic sometimes,” she sighs. 
“If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn’t have called me,” Levi says with a cluck of his tongue, but he chuckles when he hears her groan on the other end. “Really, it’ll be fine. You’re just overthinking it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you said the kid will be there, right? His brother, so it’s not as if you’ll be alone with Zeke and his parents.” 
Petra lays with her head on her desk, her phone pressed against her cheek. “Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles, but her lower lip still sticks out in a pout. The thought of Eren being there, sweet little Eren with his eager puppy eyes and wide smile, does make her feel better if only a little. She probably hasn’t seen him since she broke up with Zeke. She wonders if he’s changed very much. He’d be in college now? Or maybe he graduated. “I haven’t seen him in awhile though. What if he hates me now?” 
“You’re overthinking again,” Levi says. He sighs on the other end. If Petra didn’t know him very well, she would think she was bothering him, but he’s always like this. “Are you going to be okay?” 
“Yes. No. Maybe,” Petra sniffs. She looks sadly at her bandaged fingers and picks at the ends of one of them. “Should I just cancel? Maybe I can tell him I fell down the stairs and had to go to the hospital or something -” Someone knocks at the door and Petra lets out a startled yelp, nearly falling out of her chair because she’s so surprised. When she looks at the door, she sees Zeke’s silhouette against the frosted glass pane. The sight of it makes her want to hide behind her desk. “God, he’s here already!” 
“Too late for you to run then,” Levi says, not even bothering to hide his snickering. He’s such a sadist that Petra doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him sometimes. “Have fun at your absolutely normal dinner with your friend and his family.” Click!
“Asshole,” Petra mutters under her breath before shoving her phone in her bag. There’s another knock at the door — the same long, slow knocks that are a signature of Zeke’s —  and she hastily shouts, “I’ll be right there!” before shoving her papers in her bag and stumbling out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She must look like a mess because Zeke raises an eyebrow at her when she emerges from her office. Petra catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winces at her frumpled shirt and the hair falling out of her bun. She mumbles an apology as she pulls the hair ties out of her bun, her hair falling in loose curls around her face. 
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Zeke asks. 
“No! God, no,” Petra says, inwardly cringing at every word that comes out of her mouth. Even she can tell how awkward her responses sound, a little too quick and desperate. What is she being so anxious for? It’s just dinner with a friend —  an ex-boyfriend, but a friend nonetheless. Petra clears her throat and asks as casually as she can manage, “How are your parents?” 
“Hmm? They’re well, I suppose,” he answers. Everything about him is familiar. He’s grown just a bit taller since Petra last saw him, his shoulders a bit broader and his jawline a bit sharper, but he still wears the same double-bridge glasses and the right corner of his mouth still quirks upward just the slightest bit when he speaks. He even walks the same way, his strides a little too long and quick, and Petra finds that she still has to struggle a bit to keep up. If Zeke notices the same thing about her - how she still wears the same shade of lipstick, how she still has that habit of wrapping her hair around her finger when she’s nervous like she’s doing now, how she bites her lip when she’s not sure what to say next - he doesn’t mention it. “My father’s still working at the hospital with my grandfather. He’s been promoted to director of the orthopedics department.” 
“Oh, congrats!” 
“And you know my mother has been at the hospital now that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Zeke says. It’s strange how casually he says this, as if he doesn’t remember that the last time he spoke about his mother to Petra was when they were still together. “She really missed being in the OR. Says she’d rather be doing surgeries all day than taking care of me.” 
“It’s nice that she can go back to it.” She nearly stumbles over a step but catches the railing before she can. When she looks up again, Zeke is already on the sidewalk and she hurries after him, a little breathless. “And Eren?” 
“Eren?” Zeke seems a little surprised by the question although Petra doesn’t know why. He leads her to a car - a slick Mercedes with a shining blue exterior and tinted windows that don’t quite match Zeke’s academic profession —  and opens the car doors with a click. 
“Your brother,” she clarifies as Zeke walks over to the driver’s side and slips into the car. She opens the passenger car and slides into the seat beside Zeke, setting her bag down next to her feet. The door swings shut behind her. “He’s coming to the dinner too, right?” 
Zeke turns on the engine and the car comes to life with a pleasant hum. “Most likely,” Zeke says as he checks the side and rearview mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. He even drives the same way, his arm resting on the side with his hand tapping against the door while one hand is on the wheel. Just watching him makes Petra’s chest feel tight. 
“Ah, that’s good. I haven’t seen him in so long,” Petra says. For some reason, knowing that Eren will also be there makes her feel a little more relaxed about the dinner. “Is he still in college? I think he should have graduated by now.” 
“He graduated a little while ago. He’s teaching now. Still on probation, but he says his colleagues like him so he’s not too worried about getting tenure after the probationary period is over.” He slows the car to a stop at an intersection and leans over, fiddling with the radio dial. He sets it to the jazz station and the sound of smooth brass and relaxed percussion fills the car. 
Somehow, driving down the streets with Zeke is far more nostalgic than it ever was when Petra drove on her own. Some nights Petra drove home by herself, and all it ever felt was lonely. Maybe it’s the familiarity of having Zeke beside her like when they were teenagers, driving back home after watching a movie downtown or returning from a basketball game at their high school. 
Petra doesn’t ask any more questions about Zeke’s family. She figures she can catch up with the rest of the Jaegers when she sees them at dinner. Instead, she asks Zeke about his classes and finds that conversation with him comes more easily after she stops stumbling over her words. He tells her a little bit about teaching anthropology (“Far less painful than you think it would be, at least when the kids aren’t just taking it to fulfill their core classes,” he says), his plans for the upcoming week (“It’s midterms, but the students should be fine if they actually look at the study guide.”), and the butterfly exhibit opening up at the museum downtown (“I’m thinking of putting it up as extra credit. Who knows, they might actually look at the other exhibits while they’re wandering around.”). Petra also fills him in on her own life, mumbling about how she still has to make the answer key to her own midterm and expressing interest in the butterfly exhibit Zeke mentions. 
They pull up next to Zeke’s house, the very same one he grew up with. Not much has changed from the outside. The white picket fence is a little worn and the rose bushes have been replaced with peonies. The house is still the same shade of cream, but Petra is sure that the Jaegers had it repainted over the summer like they usually do. She looks up at the second-story window where Zeke’s room should be and vaguely wonders if it’s still his room or if he’s moved out and hasn’t mentioned it yet. 
Walking up the brick steps to the door is a bit surreal. Petra doesn’t realize just how silent she’s been until the chime of the doorbell startles her and Mrs. Jaeger opens the door. As with most of Zeke’s family members, Petra hasn’t seen Mrs. Jaeger since she broke up with Zeke, but she had an amicable relationship with her. She can’t recall Mrs. Jaeger ever being angry, so she’s surprised when Zeke’s mother opens the door with a terrible scowl on her face. 
“Mom, you remember Petra,” Zeke says, moving aside so that Petra can enter first. 
The scowl quickly slips from Mrs. Jaeger’s face, replaced with a smile that Petra is more familiar with. “Petra, of course! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her voice strained. She waves Petra and Zeke in, shutting the door gently behind them. “It’s nice to see you again.” 
“Likewise,” Petra mumbles. She looks at the kitchen doorway where Zeke’s father leans and gives him an awkward wave. The man, just as silent as he was when Petra was young, gives her a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgment. 
“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” Zeke apologizes as he shrugs off his coat. He walks over to the dining room, Petra and his mother trailing behind him. “A student wanted to talk to me and it took a bit longer than I thought it would.” 
“No need to apologize! Eren hasn’t arrived yet anyway. He’ll probably be late. Again.” There’s a harsh tone in Mrs. Jaeger’s voice that Petra hasn't heard before. When she looks up, she sees Zeke’s mother hovering around the table and arranging dishes, the same polite smile on her face as she does so. “Your brother, of course, didn’t bother to send a text to notify us that he’d be late.” 
Petra wonders if Mrs. Jaeger usually speaks about Eren with such disappointment in her voice. Maybe she had always spoken about Eren like this and Petra had never been around to witness it or maybe it’s something that developed while Petra was away. Whatever it is, Zeke and his father seem used to it. Zeke merely shrugs, pulling out his phone to flip through his phone while his mother continues to mutter about how disrespectful her stepson is. Mr. Jaeger continues to stand at the doorway, not bothering to join them at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the carpet. He doesn’t bother to defend his son. 
“Maybe he’s busy,” Petra says, interrupting Mrs. Jaeger mid-rant. She feels rude for speaking while Mrs. Jaeger is talking, but sitting in silence while Zeke’s mother speaks ill of Eren doesn’t feel right either. All eyes are on her now - Mrs. Jaeger a little surprised, Zeke with an eyebrow quirked upward as if in amusement, and his father with a look that’s almost relieved. Petra clears her throat and continues. “He’s a teacher, right? It must be difficult teaching so many children every day — making the lesson plan and everything. Maybe texting slipped his mind. He’ll probably be here soon.” 
God, she hopes Eren will be here soon. Her cheeks are starting to burn bright red and she’s thinking that perhaps speaking up might not have been the best decision. 
“Ah, you’re probably right.” Mrs. Jaeger seems a little more composed now, perhaps remembering that they have company over. She settles down in the chair across from Zeke and flashes a pleasant smile at Petra. “He can be quite forgetful of these things. Of course, you’d never worry your father like this. You’ve always been so responsible.” 
Has talking with Zeke’s mother always been this difficult? Petra’s head is starting to spin, unsure of what response would be appropriate. She feels as if she should defend Eren, but she doesn’t want to make things awkward either. In the end, she smiles awkwardly at Mrs. Jaeger as if accepting the woman’s compliment and reaches out for the glass of water in front of her, raising it to her lips before she can say anything else that she might regret. 
“Dear, come sit next to me,” Mrs. Jaeger calls. She gestures for her husband to join them at the table and Mr. Jaeger stiffly walks over from the doorway before taking a seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Jaeger folds her hands on the table, her gaze still on Petra. “How have you been, Petra? We haven’t heard from you in a while. How long have you been back?” 
The series of questions leave Petra tongue-tied and unsure of how to answer. It’s so strange how casual the Jaegers can be about asking after her, like she hadn’t been such a large part of their lives — or at least Zeke’s life — ten years ago before disappearing completely. As if they didn’t know the real reason she hadn’t kept in touch. She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to act as oblivious as them. 
“Er, I’ve been back for a while now,” she replies. She bites her lip when she sees the look of surprise on Mrs. Jaeger’s face. When she glances over at Zeke, he doesn’t look back at her. He’s returned his gaze to his phone screen, ignoring her. Nervously, she laughs. “I guess Zeke didn’t tell you, but I’m teaching at the same university he is. A few undergraduate English classes and then a graduate course on nature and romantic poetry.” Petra doesn’t know why she feels a lump at the back of her throat or the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She nibbles at her lip again, looking down at her lap so that she doesn’t have to look at Zeke or his family. She doesn’t have a reason to feel hurt or upset. Maybe Zeke was busy and didn’t have the chance to mention it to his parents or maybe it just slipped his mind. It isn’t a big deal. 
“Oh, that must be nice!  Who knew you two would be working together after all these years?” Mrs. Jaeger says. She subtly pushes the cheese plate on the table towards Petra, gesturing for her to take one. 
“Mmm,” Petra says, nodding as if she agrees with Mrs. Jaeger. It’s not as if she’s wrong. Petra certainly didn’t know any of this would happen. She knew some of it would — getting her degree, teaching at a university, eating dinner with Zeke’s parents — she just hadn’t predicted other things like Zeke breaking up with her, not speaking with him for ten years after knowing him her entire life, or having to pretend that she’s okay. 
Petra reaches for a cracker and a spread of raspberry goat cheese and shoves the entire thing in her mouth, hoping that she won’t have to answer any more questions. 
“The university is nice,” Zeke’s father murmurs. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night. The sound of his voice startles Petra, but the other Jaegers don’t seem too surprised. “It’s near the museum too. Very convenient.” 
“Ah, the museum!” Mrs. Jaeger clasps her hands together and looks at Petra expectantly. Petra nearly chokes on her cracker out of nervousness. “Have you been there yet?” 
“Er, not yet,” Petra says hastily, wincing at the pain in her throat. She takes a quick sip of her water to relieve it. “I haven’t really found the time, I guess.” 
“Oh, you should absolutely go!” says Mrs. Jaeger brightly. Petra had never thought Mrs. Jaeger was one to love museums, but there’s probably a lot about the woman that Petra doesn’t know now. All Petra really remembers about the woman is that she stayed at home during the daytime and worked at the hospital at night. She’s bound to have found other ways to occupy her time now that she doesn’t have to worry about Zeke anymore. 
“You sound as if you really enjoy it.” Petra nibbles at another cracker. She feels as if she should smile right now, but she’s not sure if she’s able to. “Are there any exhibits you would recommend?” 
“Oh, they’re all good! The staff especially …,” Mrs. Jaeger gushes, but her voice begins to trail off. Her eyes flicker over to Zeke as if waiting for a sign to proceed, but her son pays no attention to her. He simply reaches over for an almond on the cheese plate and pops it into his mouth. His mother’s smile tightens and she continues, “The butterfly exhibit that’s opening soon should be exquisite!” 
Petra looks from Zeke to Mrs. Jaeger. Aside from Mrs. Jaeger’s forced smile, Petra really can’t tell what’s wrong, so she puts on a false smile of her own and nods. “I know. Zeke was telling me about it on the ride here.” 
There’s a long and awkward silence. Zeke puts no effort in speaking and neither does his father, who still sits and stares at his lap. Only Mrs. Jaeger and Petra seem to be putting in any effort to pick up the conversation, both trying to appear calm as they search for some common ground to work with. Instead, the doorbell rings and Petra swears she hears a sigh of relief escape Mrs. Jaeger’s lips. 
“It seems Eren has finally arrived,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her chair scraping across the floor as she gets up from the table. As she turns to leave, she flashes Petra an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry you had to wait so long.” Petra is about to tell her that it wasn’t a problem, that she didn’t mind waiting (even if it was a lie), but Zeke’s mother has already disappeared into the next room with Zeke’s father following silently behind her. 
For a moment, Petra wonders if she should try to talk to Zeke so more. It’s not that the quiet bothers her, but she’s never felt comfortable sitting silently next to others unless she was completely comfortable with them. Ten years ago this would have been fine, but now sitting with Zeke beside her without saying a word is making her skin crawl and her throat dry. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his interest. 
Zeke doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence at all. He’s still scrolling through his phone, occasionally reaching out to pluck a cracker or another almond from the cheese plate. If he’s fine without any conversation, Petra figures she shouldn’t bother him. She settles down with her back against her chair rather unhappily and tries to occupy herself another way. 
Petra tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. First, she stares down at the lace tablecloth, gazing at the delicate pattern until the floral designs are burned into her corneas. Mrs. Jaeger’s voice begins to drift into the dining room, her tone just as cold and harsh as it was when she spoke about Eren earlier this evening. Another voice floats into the room as well, a voice like Eren’s but a bit deeper and rougher than Petra remembers. As the two continue to talk, Petra finds herself straining to listen to the conversation, but she can’t quite make out the words. The words exchanged don’t sound incredibly pleasant though. 
“...if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have shown up on time,” Eren hisses as he walks into the room. He’s taller than he was when Petra had seen him last — probably as tall as his brother if not taller — but he walks with his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Petra seated at the table even as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Without looking up, Eren mumbles, “Sorry, I’m late.” 
Zeke looks up, his expression amused. “Eren,” he says, setting down his phone for once. He rests his chin in his hand, mouth quirked upward in a smile. “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 
“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says, mumbling into his lap. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke and then Petra, but he doesn’t really register who Petra is until he takes another glance. His eyes are huge like a doe’s. He’s always had big eyes even when he was a child, large and green like gemstones. He’s grown into them more since the last time Petra has seen him, but they’re still enormous, growing wider as he recognizes her. His mouth falls open in surprise. “... Petra?” 
She can feel her lips curling in a smile. “Hi, Eren.” 
Eren smiles back at her, a little nervous but a lot more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He’s still shy when he smiles, looking up at her before glancing down at his lap again. “How are you?” He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer slouching. 
“I’m well. How are you?” 
“Good,” Eren answers.
“I’m glad. I missed you,” Petra tells him, and she means it. 
His smile is a little wider now and Petra feels the most relaxed than she’s been the entire night. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, at least Eren hasn’t changed and she feels less awkward being at a Jaeger family dinner after ten years of estrangement. 
Mrs. Jaeger puts down a tub of what looks like a potato salad on the table, opening the container with a frown. “At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” she comments wryly. 
Eren winces but doesn’t say anything. 
Petra sits up. “It looks, um, delicious.” It doesn’t. It looks like a pile of mush and not at all like anything edible, but Petra begins to spoon some on her plate anyway out of politeness despite the look of alarm on Eren’s face. “Eren, your brother told me you started teaching recently. Where do you teach?” 
“Just, um, down the street. Not really elementary … it’s a daycare,” he says distractedly as he watches her help herself to his potato salad. Eren hesitates for a moment before taking the spoon from Petra and switching their plates. He does it absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he notices everyone looking at him peculiarly. Flustered, he explains, “It’s not, ah, I don’t think it’s very good. So.” As if to prove his point, he puts a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth, gagging on it as he swallows it down, and scrunches his face up in disgust. 
Mrs. Jaeger looks rather smug as Eren chokes. “I’ll just put this away then,” she says, removing the tub of potato salad from the table. She gestures for Petra to help herself to the other food on the table. “Help yourself to everything else, Petra.” 
“Er, thank you,” Petra says. She does feel bad about not eating the potato salad, but Eren looks pretty relieved. Because she’s talked Zeke’s ear off in the car and doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation with the Jaeger parents, she decides to continue her conversation with Eren. “Daycare seems like it would suit you. I bet you’re great with kids.” 
“I’m alright,” Eren mumbles as he pushes the potatoes back and forth on his plate, but he’s hiding a smile on his face, secretly pleased. He’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, which Petra thinks is an endearing trait. “Teaching at a university is probably harder.” He freezes for a moment and then hurriedly adds, “Your dad told me you work as a professor now. I ran into him before coming here. He mentioned that you taught English …?” 
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, casting a side glance at Zeke. She thought Zeke would have mentioned that they were working at the same university, but maybe it never came up in conversation between the brothers or they just weren’t as close as they were before. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, “Yeah, I teach English, but I wouldn’t say teaching university is more or less difficult than handling a daycare. They have their own challenges, right?” 
“Yeah,” Eren replies, voice soft. His smile grows wider and, after Petra asks him about what it’s like teaching at the daycare, starts animatedly talking about his students. He seems very endeared towards a young girl named Gabi, a very mischievous but sweet troublemaker, and her companion Falco, a young boy that often has no choice but to be dragged into all of Gabi’s shenanigans. 
Talking to Eren makes the rest of the dinner go by easily. He’s always been easy to talk to even when they were teenagers and she was dating Zeke. Sometimes she would wait at the Jaeger house and talk with Eren while they waited for Zeke to come back from baseball practice. Eren was always so animated when he talked, using his hands and sometimes bouncing up and down his seat when he got excited. He still does that now as he talks about his work at the daycare, listening intently whenever Petra or even Zeke exchange their own stories about teaching. It makes her feel as if the past ten years hadn’t really happened, like Zeke and Eren had been a part of her life the entire time. 
“Oh, I brought dessert,” Eren says brightly. Before Mrs. Jaeger can say anything, he gets up to collect the paper bag on the kitchen counter and plops it on the dining table. He pushes it closer to Petra. “Your dad gave me some while he was closing up his shop.” 
She laughs. “I eat too many of these as it is,” Petra says, but she plucks an almond cookie from the bag. Her teeth sink into the cookie, savoring its subtle nutty flavor on her tongue, and sighs. “Don’t tell my dad. He won’t let me eat anymore when I get home.” 
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eren grins. 
Petra peers into the bag. “Did he give you any chocolate croissants?” She looks over at Eren. “Those are still your favorites, right?” 
Eren looks surprised. “Ah, yeah,” he replies, blinking. “You remember?” 
“Of course, I remember,” she snorts. She manages to find a pain au chocolat and places it delicately on Eren’s plate. It’s a little smooshed from the ride here, chocolate spilling out of its side, but Eren still looks at it hungrily. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
Zeke leans forward. “I like the lemon bars. Let me know if there are any in there.” 
She laughs and actually does manage to find one, but it’s a lemon-lavender bar. Zeke assures her it’s fine, picking off the little bits of lavender that are on the top of the bar. They eat like that for a moment and Petra feels an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. It’s probably unhealthy to yearn for the past, but Petra wouldn’t mind if things somehow ended up the way they were before. 
When their dishes are scraped clean and the conversations begin to fade away, Zeke pats down the corner of his mouth with a napkin before announcing that they should stop for the night. He has papers to grade tonight, he explains to his parents who nod understandingly. The wooden legs of his chair scrape against the carpet as he gets up from the table and Petra slides out of her own seat, ready to follow him. 
“Ah, Petra,” Zeke says, pausing like he’s just remembered. He looks at her, head tilting slightly. He’s stopped by the door to the living room, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Do you mind calling an Uber to pick you up? I’d drive you home myself but …” 
“I …” Petra blinks, feeling like a deer in headlights. If she looked around, she would see that the rest of the Jaeger family has a similar expression. She’s not sure why she feels so surprised. Maybe it’s because she had expected him to drive her home, but maybe that was too much to ask of him after he had taken the trouble to drive her here in the first place. It’s not even that far of a drive to her house, but it’s probably too cumbersome for Zeke, who’s busy with grading papers and preparing for tomorrow’s lectures. There’s an awful lump in her throat like she had swallowed an egg whole, but Petra forces a smile on her face as she begins, “Sure, let me just call my dad -” 
“I’ll take you home,” a voice says suddenly. Everyone turns to see Eren standing up from his chair. At first glance he looks angry, but Petra blinks again and there’s only concern on his face as he collects his jacket and walks over to Petra. He shrugs it on and smiles down at her, his expression a little apologetic. “Er, you don’t mind riding on a bike, do you?” 
Petra has to lift her head to look at Eren and she wonders when he had gotten so tall. It must have been after she left for college. “No, that’s fine,” she replies numbly, too shocked to really think about it. She shuffles silently after Eren, mumbling a brief “thank you” when he helps her into her coat. 
“It was lovely having you over again, dear,” Mrs. Jaeger says to Petra, a smile pasted on the woman’s face as she saw the two out. She doesn’t say anything about Zeke not offering Petra a ride back. “Do come again sometime.” 
“Of course,” Petra says, although the promise feels empty. She’s not sure if Mrs. Jaeger notices or even cares because the woman shuts the door in her face before Eren and Petra are even out in the driveway. It’s not a cold gesture, but it’s a change from the days when Mrs. Jaeger would wait until Petra was almost out of sight before shutting the door and disappearing into the house. 
Petra shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat and follows Eren down the driveway, watching as he runs to the bike he had carelessly discarded on the ground before entering the house earlier. Embarrassed, Eren hastily picks up the bike, brushing it off and mumbling something about how he had been in too much of a hurry earlier to properly lock up his bike. Petra assures him it’s fine. She’s only half-listening anyway. 
“You can just sit here,” Eren says, patting a padded seat on the back of his bike. He throws a leg over his bike easily and looks at Petra, waiting expectantly. 
She hadn’t objected to the ride home before, but now she looks at Eren’s vehicle of choice skeptically. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pedal with me on it? I’m a whole other person.” Petra hovers beside the bike, but she doesn’t get on. 
“Yeah, it’s fine. It was fine when my boyfriends were riding in the back, and they’re a lot heavier than you,” Eren replies. It takes him a moment to register what he just said and then his face begins to color, cheeks glowing pink even in the dim moonlight. “I mean my ex-boyfriends. I rode around with my ex-girlfriend too, but she was really tiny too. She was …” He probably would have babbled on and on if Petra hadn’t sat down. 
“Your exes?” Petra asks, eyebrow raised. She hadn’t really thought about Eren dating, but it’s funny to think about now. She doesn’t remember if he ever dated anyone when he was in high school. She probably shouldn’t tease, but she can’t resist grinning at the boy and saying, “It looks like you were busy in college.” 
“Not that busy. Just … probably as busy as your average college student,” Eren mumbles under his breath, face still flushed. He gestures at Petra’s hands and then makes a motion around his waist. “You can … around me if, you know, you’re comfortable with it.” 
“Oh, right.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around Eren’s waist and wonders briefly how someone so tall can have such a thin waist. “Do you remember the way to my house?” she asks. 
“Of course,” Eren says. “It’s not that far from here.” 
For some reason, the way Eren answers makes Petra feel warm. Maybe it’s just the heat transfer from resting her cheek on his back. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind rush around her as Eren bikes her back home. 
It feels so comfortable, clinging onto someone so familiar and breathing in Eren’s scent, something like pinewood and a little bit of peppermint. He feels strong too, sturdy like a redwood tree. Petra doesn’t know why she doubted his ability to bike with her additional weight. He’d probably be fine having someone twice her weight in tow. She experimentally gives Eren’s waist a little squeeze. It must have been too sudden of a squeeze because they come to a screeching stop, Petra’s face slamming against Eren’s back and the two of them nearly go flying. 
“Oh, ouch,” Petra says. One arm is still wrapped around Eren’s lithe waist, but she raises a hand to rub her stinging face. “That hurts.” 
“S-sorry!” Eren stammers. He twists around to get a good look at Petra, forehead wrinkling. “I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly I was just … surprised.” He brings his hand down to where Petra’s arm is hooked around his waist, but he snatches his hand away as soon as their skin brushes as if he’s been burned. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine,” Petra assures him. Her nose is throbbing dully, but it’s not bleeding. “It’s my fault anyway. I was just surprised. You’re a lot bigger than you were the last time I saw you.” 
“I’m alright,” Eren says with a shy laugh. He pushes off on the bike and starts for home again, pedaling easily despite Petra’s weight. He doesn’t startle when Petra leans against him again, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie. His breath hitches a little when Petra wraps her arms a little tighter around his waist, but it goes unnoticed by her. 
“Were they nice?” she asks. Eren makes a confused noise, and she can’t help but smile. Clarifying, she says, “Your exes. Were they nice?” 
Eren pedals in silence for a while before responding. “Yeah. They were nice.” 
“That’s good.” Petra sighs against his back, not noticing the way he shivers as if he can feel her breath on his skin. “You deserve to date nice people.” 
Petra might have imagined it, but she thinks she hears Eren say something in reply. He says it quietly, though, and the wind carries it away too quickly for her to hear. She straightens her back, lifting her head from where it rests against Eren’s back, but he doesn’t repeat himself and she doesn’t ask. Maybe it’s just one of those things that are meant to be spoken aloud but not heard by anyone. 
They don’t speak much the rest of the way home. Petra figures Eren is having enough trouble biking with two people and holding a conversation would only tire him out more. She just lets herself rest against him, watching as they pass streetlight after streetlight. It probably would have been more convenient to call a Lyft or an Uber, but Petra thinks accepting Eren’s bike ride isn’t bad either. It saved her from having to wait awkwardly for her driver to find the house while Zeke’s parents waited for her to leave. 
She wonders if she should have gone to dinner in the first place. Maybe Zeke had only invited her out of politeness, but she had taken it to mean more than it did. She’s stupid to think that arriving at the Jaeger house meant that things could go back to the way things were. It was noticeably tense in the house. At first, Petra thought it was because of the strained relationship between Mrs. Jaeger and Eren, but now she’s not so sure. It’s not as if Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger had met her with open arms. They hadn’t been hostile, but they were polite in the way that people were polite to house guests and not in the way they would be to a childhood friend of their son. God, she’s so stupid. She should have just declined Zeke’s offer politely and never spoken to him again since he was obviously content with not speaking with her for ten years. 
Burying her face in Eren’s hoodie, Petra gives him another squeeze. Eren doesn’t brake this time. He just lets out a surprised “oh!” and falters for a bit, bike slowing, before picking his pace back up and continuing on their way. 
“We’re almost there,” Eren tells her. As he approaches Petra’s house, the bike begins to slow before stopping completely in front of the driveway. When Petra lifts her head, Eren is looking at her, smiling. “Are you alright?” 
“Yeah,” Petra nods. She gets off the bike and pats down her windswept hair, brushing some stray locks out of her face. She manages to smile back at Eren. “Thanks for the ride back. I hope it wasn’t too out of your way.” 
“It’s fine.” Eren sits at his bike, his smile a little lopsided. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes. It’s only when Petra turns around towards her house that he opens his mouth. “Hey, Petra?” 
Petra’s hand rests on the gate of her wooden fence, just about to open it. She looks at Eren, watching as he fidgets with the handle of his bike. “Yeah?” 
“Did Zeke …?” His voice trails off and Eren’s looking everywhere except at her face. He nibbles on his bottom lip and Petra wonders what he’s so nervous about. His expression looks pained as if he’s scared whatever he has to say will hurt her, but Petra’s not sure why it would. After a moment, Eren swallows and forces a smile on his face. “Did Zeke tell you that … I work near your university?” 
“You do?” 
Eren nods. He looks a lot less nervous now, his shoulders relaxed. “Well, it’s not that far by bike.” 
“Really?” Petra hums. “I should come visit you some time then.” 
“Oh, you don’t have to -” 
“Or you could visit me?” she suggests. 
He blinks. “I can?” Eren asks. “Is that really okay?” 
Petra almost laughs. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You should just let me know beforehand if you’re coming,” she tells him. She walks over, pulling her phone out of her purse and handing it to him so he can add his number. “Text me or call me. I might not respond right away because I might have a faculty meeting or a lecture, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 
“Oh, alright then,” Eren says. He types away on her phone, handing it back to her as soon as he’s finished. He watches with wide green eyes as Petra sends him an emoji — a simple “Hi, Eren! It’s Petra 😊” — and looks back at her with a grin. “I’ll come visit sometime.” 
“That’d be great,” Petra says, and she really means it. “Thanks again for the ride, Eren. I really appreciate it.” 
“It was no problem,” Eren tells her. He waves as walks through the gate and up the steps of her porch. He’s still waving when she opens the door and turns around, his smile a little goofy but cute at the same time. “Have a good night!” 
“You too,” Petra says before shutting the door gently behind her. She takes a peek out the window and sees Eren still on the sidewalk with the bike. He stands there with a pensive look on his face before pushing off his bike and riding off into the night. Petra watches until he’s a tiny speck down the road. When she blinks, he’s gone. 
Petra finds her dad waiting for her in the living room, sleeping because he can’t stay awake for very long after dinner. In his lap sits a half-finished crossword puzzle. Petra smiles affectionately at her father before pressing a soft kiss on the old man’s brow. 
“I’m home,” she whispers as her father begins to stir. 
“Ah, Petra,” says her father. He looks at her, eyes still bleary with sleep, and gives her a drowsy smile. With a hand, he pushes up the glasses that were slipping off his nose during sleep. “Did Zeke drive you home?” 
Her lips press into a thin line. “No. He was busy,” Petra replies, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “Eren took me home instead.” 
“Eren?” her father repeats, not seeming to remember the name. 
“Zeke’s younger brother,” Petra reminds him. She leans against the back of her father’s armchair as she tries to describe the half-brother. “He was a few years younger than me. Brown hair, big green eyes, kind of gangly.” 
“Oh, Eren,” her father says, nodding. Petra’s not sure if he actually remembers or if he’s just being polite, but then he suddenly says, “I saw him earlier this evening before I was closing up shop. He’s very polite. He’s a nice boy.” 
Petra leans over to rest her head on her father’s shoulder while her arms lay folded on the back of the armchair. She thinks about her ride home, how it could have been cold and miserable and lonely. And maybe her thoughts were all of those things, but the ride wasn’t. She can still feel the warmth Eren emanated from underneath his hoodie, how comforting it was to have someone to hold.
“Yeah. He’s a nice guy,” Petra says softly. 
12 notes · View notes
bugabash · 4 years
Text
Cursed past
When the past is changed the only people who can help Adrien and Marinette defeat the new villain are themselves, just not from their time. The seasoned superheroes will need to teach their younger selves everything they know before the time runs out or else life as they know it will cease to exist. Love is blossoming, trust is strengthened, and the true power of their miraculouses will be revealed. 
Ao3
Chapter 1: The beginning of Change 
“Bunnix,” Master Fu stood there in shock, looking at the older miraculous holder, a sinking feeling cooling his blood, “why are you here?”
“Master Fu, something is going to happen.” Bunnix stated seriously, with a hint of fear, “where are Minibug and kitty noir?”
oOo
Marinette stepped into the shower, feeling the warmth travel down her body, sighing in relief, the warmth soothing the old aches and pains she had gained after 12 years of being ladybug. She started washing her hair and was rinsing when she heard the front door open downstairs, smiling to herself she waited for her husband’s voice.
“GOOOOD EVENING BUGABOO!” Adrien called from downstairs cheerfully, causing Marinette to giggle and her butterflies were set off. Four years of marriage and he greeted her the same each night when he finally got home from the office. She heard him bounding up the stairs like an eager kitten as she turned off the water. Stepping out she was immediately wrapped up in a warm towel from behind, a 6”3 Adrien nuzzling her neck and purring softly. “How is my lady this evening?”
“Pretty good, how is my kitty?” She asked, turning in his arms and looking up at him, smiling lovingly.
“I’m purrfect now that I’m home and I can see your adorable smile.” He smirked, looking down into her sapphire blue eyes. “I’m gonna hop in the shower and then I will meet you in bed. Sorry again about the late night, but I am ready for cuddles in bed and a movie marathon.” He said, a mischievous grin over taking his face and he wriggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to roll her eyes and chuckle.
“Easy there kitty,” Marinette winked, standing on her tip toes and kissing his slightly stubbly, chiselled chin. “I will see you in bed.” She giggled, dodging another hug and padded into their room.
She smiled as she started putting on her creams, god she loved him, she counted her lucky blessings every day for him, he was her backbone after the battle, nursed her back to health and even when he was suffering he was there holding her up. She sighed and finished drying off, musing her short hair in the mirror, the ends already drying. She pulled on one of Adrien’s shirts, it hung to her midthighs, baggy on her, his smell enveloping her in a safety net.
Tikki and Plagg were fast asleep on their little nests of blankets Marinette had made for them, Plagg’s leg twitching as he snored. Marinette smiled and stroked Tikki’s head gently, thanking her with a stroke like she did every night. Without her, Marinette wouldn’t be here, well if she was going to talk like that she wouldn’t be here without Adrien and Plagg either. She looked at the kwamis one more time before she went downstairs to lock all the doors and turn off all the lights. She bolted the front door and peaked out the window, a feeling of uneasiness coming over her suddenly.
No one was out there. She knew it, but she couldn’t help the feeling causing her blood to run cold. As if he could sense her uneasiness Adrien headed down the stairs two as a time, coming to her side and his presence like a warm blanket over her shoulders. His brows furrowed, wet blonde hair dripping water onto his bare shoulders, and his mouth screwed into a slight scowl as he looked out the window. God he was gorgeous, blushing slightly she straightened up, focus Marinette!
“Are you ok?” He asked softly, turning his attention back to her, stroking her cheek gently. “She isn’t out there, you know that. And neither is he. They’re gone, they are powerless, and they won’t hurt us ever again, especially you.” He reassured her, bending down slightly as he looked into her eyes, his emeralds full of love and worry. Marinette looked away guiltily, she knew he was right, but it was something else.
She looked out the window again, she blinked when she thought she saw someone looking back from the bushes across the road at her, but she shook it off, doubting her instincts again. “I thought I… Never mind. You’re right, let’s go to bed.” She shrugged the feeling off, closing the curtain and heading up, Adrien turning off the lights and looked out the window again, his eyes searching to reassure himself if anything then following close on her tail.
She couldn’t help but wonder if there was going to be an akuma attack, there hadn’t been one in almost 3 years, she wasn’t sure how it would go if there was one. They were always prepared, training constantly and patrolling every weekend, practising as they unlocked more of their abilities. But they hadn’t fought an akuma in almost 3 years or so now. If she were being honest with herself, Marinette was terrified to fight another akuma, merely for fact that it would mean that another Hawkmoth or Painted Mistress. 
After their last fight with an evil miraculous holder almost killed them she hasn’t been able to even imagine fighting like that again. Coming out of her daydream and her thoughts she noticed Adrien was already in bed, watching her with concerned eyes. She smiled at him, seeing him there, shirtless, baring his scars that always made her wince internally with guilt. It was her fault he had them in the first place. She shook off the feelings quickly, taking a deep breath and felt Adrien’s love replace all the bad feelings.
She finally padded her way to the bed, slipping under the thick covers and into Adrien’s waiting arms. He bundled her up in his strong arms, kissing the top of her head lovingly, sending goose bumps over her skin. She giggled softly as he started kissing her all over her face, deciding to take control and captured his lips, feeling that smirk on his face. “Well hello there, Mrs Agreste, feeling safer in my big, strong, muscular arms?” He growled teasingly, flexing his bicep as she laughed before silencing her giggles with his hungry kisses, pulling her closer and pushing the baggy shirt up her soft body with a smirk.
oOo
It was around 3am, the house was dark and silent, the clock ticking quietly on the kitchen wall. Marinette and Adrien were sound asleep, his wife draped over Adrien’s bare chest, snoring softly, mouth agape. Adrien slept soundly, one arm around Marinette’s bare back and the other draped over his forehead. It was a normal night, nothing exciting had happened like things used to when there were akumas about, but they still had their instincts and they were ready for anything. Adrien felt the rush go down his spine, his eyes flying open just before the bright light appeared. Marinette gasped as she woke up, Adrien grabbing the blankets and pushing her off him and hid her behind his back in one swift movement of his strong arm, covering them both with the blanket. The giant, round, white light looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember. The feeling he had earlier coming back in full force. Fuck, he needs to trust his instincts more, especially when Mari had it too!
“Adrien! What’s going on!?” Marinette cried from behind him, clinging to his shoulder, pressing against him as much as possible. He glanced back at her, making sure she was covered, his own posture on the defence, ready to protect his wife no matter the cost. His head snapped back to the bright light in front of them, growling low in his chest, grinding his teeth together and narrowing his eyes. Their kwamis woke with a start and flew over to them, hiding behind Adrien’s broad back as well, waiting to see if they need to transform or not.
“Calm down, Kitty, no one is going to hurt your bug.” A familiar voice said, making Adrien blink and grip the blankets tighter. A figure stepped through, Adrien’s eyes widened, and he felt a lump gather in his chest. Marinette gasped and dug her nails into his skin, causing him to wince.
“B-Bunnix??” She cried out, covering her eyes from the blinding light.
  “You two may want to cover up, I’m not alone.” She stated simply, looking them up and down with a raised brow.
Adrien just stared at her, mouth agape, his eyes wide and his brows raised. He suddenly felt a bit self-conscious; they were both naked and Marinette was completely covered but his bare chest was in full view. He was about to pull the blankets up more when two figures stumbled in, and like that the white light disappeared, both figures panting, the taller figure holding up the smaller figure. They stumbled to the wall and Adrien blinked at the new darkness, narrowing his eyes to make out something, and that’s when he saw it. The ears. His eyes widened and he quickly reached over and turned on his lamp, returning to his position and hiding Marinette behind him even more.
They both gasped, their hearts stopping, their blood running cold, and dread filled them both. Tikki and Plagg zoomed up, their own eyes wide as they stared at the two injured teenagers before them.
Standing in front of them, panting and clinging to each other were Ladybug and Chat noir, bloody and bruised, soot covering their body and faces. They looked young, maybe them at 18 years old, and when the two younger versions of themselves looked up at them both their eyes widened, gasping at the same time and freezing. Then Adrien covered up quicker than he ever had, making sure Marinette was extra covered as she hid her face in his back.
“Chat Noir? Ladybug?” Marinette asked, lifting her face from Adrien’s back peaking over his shoulder, “Bunnix… What’s going on? Why are they here? And when are they from?” She almost screeched, “What the fuck!”
“We need your help,” Bunnix finally said, looking back and forth between the younger and older versions. “Something has changed in our past, someone we defeated has come back but they have gone to the past. They,” referring to the injured heroes, “aren’t going to be able to stop them, not alone.” Marinette and Adrien glanced at each other in shock, then back at Bunnix, actively ignoring the heroes. “If you don’t help us, nothing will be the same ever again.” With that Marinette sighed and dropped her head against Adrien’s back, groaning against his skin while Adrien carried on looking dumbfoundedly at the scene in front of him. He took in a deep breath, his brain trying to keep up with all this information at once.
“Fuck.”
oOo
8 years ago
They were both coughing, the taste of soot coating their tongues which made them cough more. Ladybug was injured, badly enough that she was fully relying on Chat Noir to support her and to help her walk. He looked down at her, an ugly gash stood out on her cheek, blood mixed with soot covered the side of her jaw and down her neck to her suit. Her brows were furrowed in pain and she clung to Chat Noir in their hiding place.
“M’lady, you need to let me look at your wound. You’re bleeding pretty badly, and not just from your cheek.” He said gently, cupping her injured cheek slightly, his heart stopping briefly as she winced in pain. He couldn’t see her like this, he never wanted to see her like this. HE has to protect her, he can’t let anything happen to her. His anger grew even more as she just shook her head, curling her arm around her injured stomach even more.
How did everything go so wrong, how did all this chaos happen so suddenly? How did they fuck up so bad? And who the fuck was the new villain who just showed up!? He groaned and leant back against the wall, pulling Ladybug closer into his chest.
“It’ll be okay, Kitty. We always make it out of these situations.” Ladybug whispered, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes, starting to shiver as her energy from the suit was fading more and more, which meant more and more pain was trickling in. He had to get her somewhere safe, she needed to detransform so he could look at her wounds but he knew she wouldn’t do that, and he knew once all the power from her suit was gone she would be in excruciating pain. He looked back down at her, frowning at how she gripped him tighter. He then also looked down at himself, his forearm was exposed and covered in burns, it stung slightly but his suit was a lot better at absorbing the pain, destruction was his speciality, and he was used to taking the majority of the hits. But he had let down his lady, he wasn’t able to get in front of her in time, and now look at her. He knew there were other injuries, but he couldn’t think about that now, he needed to stay in charge for his Lady. He needed to keep her safe, even if he died doing it.
That was when the light appeared, he winced and covered his eyes before blinking up at the woman before him, recognizing her immediately. “Bunnix! What are you doing here? Ladybug needs help!” Chat Noir exclaimed, shaking Ladybug who looked up with wide eyes.
“Calm down kitten, I’m here to take you to safety. There has been a problem, this isn’t meant to be happening.” She said, bending down and looking worriedly at Ladybug who was even more pale now. “Whoever is here isn’t from your time, and he has altered this reality, it hasn’t affected the future, well hasn’t yet anyway.” She shrugged nervously, “I know what we need to do.” She explained, looking at Ladybug’s wound on her cheek, worry all over her face. “Can you walk?” She asked softly, Ladybug nodded, with Chat’s help they were both on their feet again. “Stay together, mini bug you stay awake, no passing out on my watch.” She said before the white light appeared again.
Chat looked at the light, feeling very confused, but he didn’t have much time to feel anything else when a crash happened behind them. He jumped and swung his head around seeing flames in the distance from an explosion, guilt filling him, holding Ladybug closer, hearing her gasp and whimper made him snap out of it and look back down at her. She needs help. Now! “Whatever we are doing we need to do it fast! Before that asshole finds us and turns us into a barbeque appetiser!” Chat shouted, the small bridge above them rattling from the explosion, dust falling around them.
Bunnix nodded and stepped through, Ladybug looked up at Chat with raised brows. They heard Bunnix talking softly but couldn’t make out the words. “Come on.” He whispered, and stepped forward, but as he did, he felt a new pain shoot up his leg, causing him to trip towards the light.
He needed to think fast, arms going around his lady and he aimed to land on his feet once he was through the light. They stumbled through into darkness, hitting the wall with a grunt, panting heavily as Ladybug clung to him. He looked around, noticing the quietness, no more sounds of screaming, of raging fires and of destruction. All he heard was a clock in the distance, and he could hear breathing in front of him. He blinked away the blurriness of his vision, thankful for his night vision.
They were in a large bedroom which was decorated nicely, a half made violet dress in the corner on a mannequin, a large flat screen T.V. on the wall which was framed by photos around the wall of the tv, smiling faces of friends together who looked like older versions of his friends. Weird. One picture caught his eye, but he couldn’t make it out fully, a blonde women was standing with a blonde man in a tux, but before he could look at their faces he felt Ladybug wince, making him snap his head down to look at her. His eyes turned to the bed in front of them, his eyes landing on whoever owned this bedroom. Once his eyes met the green eyes he froze, his heart stopping at who was there.
Broad, defined shoulders, bare chest littered with scars, the main one was a thick gash over his heart where a tattoo lay under it, disfigured but he could make it out. A black cat, green eyes blazing, the effects like watercolour but with black coming from the sides. It looked like his cataclysm. His muscular arm was outstretched keeping the woman hidden behind him, noticing he had another thick scar on his left forearm. His eyes full of confusion, and a glaze of protectiveness was the most prominent feature, eyes searching the dark, his posture also showing he was ready to attack to protect this woman. His eyes searched his face, jaw defined more than it was now for himself, all baby weight he had in his face when he was younger was gone. He looked like he was in his late 20’s, built ready for a fight, Chat guessed he was still fighting crime so he would need to have those muscles.
Chat felt his heart pounding, knowing Ladybug would feel it, she raised her head, looking over at the bed as well. Adrien suddenly moved, quick as a cat the light was turned on and he was back to covering the woman even more. Chat blinked as he adjusted, eyes finally landing on the blue hair poking from behind Adrien’s back. Who was that? Was that Ladybug? Wait, was he in bed naked with LADYBUG? He blinked and looked down at ladybug, blushing furiously. But when he saw her face he froze, following her gaze. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, cheeks furiously red under the blood and soot. Looking back at the couple, Chat noir felt his heart leap into his throat.
MARINETTE??
“Chat noir? Ladybug?” Marinette asked silently, “Bunnix… What’s going on? Why are they here? And when are they from?” She was almost screeching now, “What the fuck!”
Bunnix started speaking but Chat had gone deaf, staring at Marinette as she peaked her head up, her blue eyes so familiar, her freckles on her pale skin the exact same. Oh god! She’s naked! He screamed internally, seeing his naked, albeit covered up, friend pressed against his older self’s back was something he wasn’t expecting, not at fucking all. What the actual fuck!? Marinette looked older too, but her face still looked so youthful, no lines anywhere, her soft hair was messy and it was short, the length just past her ears in a layered bob, her fringe still the same, he could only see her head and a bit of her neck as she hid, she looked tiny compared to his older self, she looked the same size as Marinette did back home. She was only 5”6, he felt like a giant next to her, just like he did with ladybug to be truthful. And that’s when he noticed the ring on Adrien’s ring finger. Married?? What was going on here? He was married to Marinette? What about Ladybug?
Chat Noir shifted and held Ladybug a little firmer, she was still staring, ignoring everything going on, blood dripping onto the hard wood floor, causing him to gasp and snap his head back to the grownups.
“Ladybug is hurt, can you help her!?” Chat asked desperately after he heard Adrien swear and drop his head into a hand. Adrien’s head shot up and eyes went to Ladybug with the same look chat noir always had when ladybug was injured, Chat noticing him grip onto the blankets tighter. Was he still like that with Ladybug? Even though he was with Marinette? There were too many questions going on in his head, he needed to focus!
“Yes, take her through to the lounge downstairs and put her on the couch, I will be right out.” Marinette said sternly, Chat nodded and lifted Ladybug bridal style, hurrying to the other room, placing her down. His head was spinning as he sat next to her and looked down at her as she starred up at the roof.
“What the fuck is going on?” Chat whispered to her, rubbing his eyes with his palms, his dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead and eyes.
Ladybug was silent for a while before she finally spoke, “I don’t know why we are getting help for them, Bunnix said only they could help… I just… I just don’t understand…” Chat looked at her, worried. “And they’re… It’s… Adrien…” She whispered, squeaking his name, making chat blink and raise his brows, dropping his hand from his forehead and looking at her in shock.
“W-what do you mean by that? M-Marinette was there too, not just Adrien. And, uh, she was…” He choked on the word naked, “bare… too.” He said rubbing the back of his neck blushing brightly, glancing at her and then the stairs, hearing hushed talking from the other room, someone sounded angry, he guessed it was his older self. He would be too if someone walked in on him while he was naked with his wife, even if his wife was his friend… Marinette. She was such a good friend, how did this happen?
“Yeah, but… that’s Adrien!” She exclaimed, “…With Marinette…” Chat raised an eyebrow and looked down at her again, seeing her expression reminded him suddenly of how Marinette looked like when she had finally lifted her head. No, that is just a coincidence… There is no way… Is ladybug…?
He couldn’t finish that thought as he was pulled away from ladybug by strong hands, he squeaked, and looked at his older self. He was dressed in a baggy white shirt and red pyjama bottoms. And he looked pissed. “Come on. I’m cleaning you up.” Chat gulped at his tone, looking back at Ladybug he saw Marinette bent over her, she was in a strappy pink top and shorts. It was only a glance, but Chat could see the large scar down her spine, thick and jiggered, but what really caught his eye was the tattoo she had at the base of her spine. A small red ladybug. No... It couldn’t be… Before he could finish the thought again, he was tugged out of the room and away from his lady.
As he was dragged away his breath quickened, he was starting to panic. Why? What is going the fuck on?
“Calm down!” Adrien hissed in a hushed voice as he noticed Chat was starting to panic, taking Chats shoulders in his hands and stopped him, chat looked up at him, Adrien was only a few inches taller than Chat but he felt like a kid looking at his adult self. He then realised he needed his older self now, just like he would need an older brother. “Just breathe, and detransform, it’s going to be ok, alright kid?” He said plainly, motioning to the seat at the kitchen island. Adrien wandered off further into the kitchen, leaving Chat alone. He took a deep breath and released his transformation, the pain and exhaustion hitting him like a bus. The next thing he remembered was waking up to a scream that turned his blood to ice and his own older face looking down at him with concern, eyes wide, saying his name and looking him over. Ladybug!
oOo
After the kids had left the room, Bunnix smiled sheepishly at the married couple in their bed, ignoring Adrien’s daggers piercing her with his eyes.
“So, uh, I’m gonna turn around while you two love birds put on some pants,” Bunnix chuckled, turning around. Adrien carried on glaring at her but hopped out of bed and pulled on his red pj trousers and the shirt Marinette was wearing earlier in lightning speed. Marinette got into her normal pjs as well, his eyes never left Bunnix’s back, his mind racing. His mind really just going around the fact that there were two injured teenagers almost on deaths door bleeding out on their couches downstairs, and the fact they would find out each other’s identities now, this was not an ideal situation at all. He couldn’t calm his mind. And he was angry.
“What,” he breathed, Bunnix turning around nervously, “the FUCK!” He yelled angrily, their kwamis hiding behind Marinette. “Why the fuck are they here? It’s 3 in the morning, and what the hell happened to them? You were supposed to keep an eye on the past for anything different! Explain! Now!”
Bunnix stuttered at first, but found her words, rubbing her hands nervously together, “look, I know it’s a really shit situation, but you don’t understand, something big has happened.” She explained, Marinette walked over to the seething Adrien, placing a calming hand on his arm, looking up at him. “He’s back.” Bunnix stated simply. A statement that made both Adrien and Marinette freeze and look at Bunnix in a mixture of shock and pure terror.
“No… He can’t be back, he’s in prison! I took his miraculous!” Marinette exclaimed, running over to the ottoman and pulling it open, the miraculous box revealing itself to her, she took it out and opened it, her blood running cold as she saw 3 miraculous jewels were gone. “What… how…”
Adrien walked over and stared at the box with wide eyes, how could three be missing? He knew exactly which ones too, the butterfly miraculous standing out the most, his blood freezing. The fox miraculous was gone and so was the peacock miraculous. Adrien knew how bad this was. “I need to make a call.” He said before turning and grabbing his phone, getting the contact up and ringing them, walking away from the girls.
“Alix, how bad is this?” Marinette asked softly, looking over at her old friend, her face paled in comparison to normal.
“I’m not gonna lie Nettie, its worse than I could have ever imagined.” Alix stated, not even looking at Marinette. “The city was on fire… people were dead, Marinette, I saw… He is older, he is more powerful, and he has fully unlocked all the powers of the miraculouses he has.” She shook her head, “I didn’t know what to do…”
“How? We haven’t even fully unlocked ours!” Marinette exclaimed as she started to pace, “Are you sure it is even him? Did you see him?”
“No, but who else would do that?” Alix replied, shaking her head, “It was his trademark destruction, but whoever it is, whether it is him or not, we need you! The kids can’t fight this!”
Marinette rubbed her face vigorously, “I thought we couldn’t go back? I thought they couldn’t come here! What the fuck!”
“By him going back he has created a different past!” Alix explained, walking over to Marinette, glancing nervously at Adrien who was glaring at her again on the phone. “But it caused a ripple, their past and our present are starting to fuse, which means eventually their past will become ours, and half of Paris is dead in their past!”
“So, if they are dead what can we do?” Adrien stated, walking back over and throwing his phone onto the bed, Plagg settling on his shoulder. “Why bring them to us on their fucking death beds?”  
“Because we need them to know what’s happened to understand how to stop it all! This is going to get complicated, so let me worry about time and you just focus on the kitten and mini bug.” Alix replied sternly, opening her stopwatch briefly, and snapping it shut again.
Adrien sighed, his face stone, “we need to go deal with the children bleeding out on my mother’s couch.” He said plainly, storming downstairs to see his younger self talking to a very shocked Ladybug. He grabbed his younger self by the shoulders and easily picked him up to standing, leading him into the kitchen. “Come on. I’m cleaning you up.” Right now, he needed to fix him up and then get them resting.
God why was this happening. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he only just noticed the hyperventilating 19 year old injured chat noir breaking down, fuck, he needs to help him. He grunted and rolled his eyes at himself, walking over and holding his shoulder.
“Calm down.” He stated clearly, looking into the scared boy’s eyes. “Just breathe, and detransform, it’s going to be ok, alright kid?” He motioned to the chairs at the kitchen island, turning to grab one of the many extensive first aid kits that Marinette stored around the house. He saw the green flash and then a few seconds later he heard a hard thump.
He sighed, looked up at the roof and cursed God out again before running over to his younger self. The boy was out cold on his side, Adrien sighed and lay him on his back, “Adrien, wake up! Adrien!” He repeated and examined the boy with pure worry and concern all over his face. He was badly banged up, burns all over his body and cuts that were filthy, he looked like he had been strangled too, angry purple bruises showing up on his neck and collar bone.
The young lad was dressed in a grey t-shirt and plaid green and black pj trousers, that were ripped. He must have transformed while fighting to let Plagg rest and got into a scuffle. His right eye was swollen and bruised black, that must have happened when he was in his civilian form too. God, what happened to these kids? It reminded him so much of his and Marinette’s battle 3 years ago. And that took months to recover from, not just physically, but mentally too. Even now he saw the fear and the pain in Marinette’s eyes.
That was when the scream caused both Adrien’s to jump, the kid’s eyes flying open, Adrien looked at him in worry and before he could say anything he was pushed off and into of the chairs, falling onto his back. He blinked and watched as his younger self jumped to his feet in lightning speed, running to where the screaming was from.
“Oh, for fuck sake!” Adrien cursed before jumping up and following suit, he ran in to see a Marinette he hadn’t seen in almost 8 years now, screaming in pain, blood everywhere. His stomach dropped, but seeing his younger self run to his lady’s side made him look over at his wife who looked terrified.
She needed him.
He walked over and wrapped an arm around her. She immediately curled into his chest, she was shaking softly, he knew what was going on in her head, and he felt powerless. What were they going to do?
oOo
Adrien… it was naked Adrien. Adult, married, scarred Adrien hiding older her behind him. What… She needed to talk to Tikki. And holy hell was he... sexy! No, you can’t think like that!
Chat was suddenly gone, and she had never felt more alone, panic building inside her. The black figure was replaced by her older self and Bunnix. Her older self had short layered hair, slightly longer on one side, she was wearing a strappy pink top and a pair of pink shorts. She guessed that even in her 20s she still liked pink, she thought with a chuckle.
“Marinette, sweetie, detransform, the boys are gone.” Marinette whispered gently, stroking her face softly, her brows screwed together in concern. Ladybug nodded and let her transformation release, another Tikki flying in and catching her Tikki and carrying her off somewhere. The pain was excruciating, it hit her like a bus, and she let out a blood curdling scream. She was in her pjs as well, but they were slowly soaking in blood, torn and slightly burnt from when she needed to recharge and was attacked. She had a gash on her stomach from being hit with the villain’s sword, she had a burn on her shoulder and her gash on her face was bleeding and needed a deep clean.
As she was screaming because oh God the pain! Older Marinette and Bunnix were holding her arms down, them telling her to calm down and to stop moving reaching deaf ears. She was in so much pain and in so much shock she didn’t see the 19 year old Adrien covered in soot and blood run in and push them out of the way, dropping to his knees and cupping Marinette’s face, yelling for her to look at him and to calm down. She finally saw him and grabbed onto his arms, her screams turning into sobs as she finally heard his words. 
Adrien!?
“Marinette! Calm down! I’m here! I’m here! It’s ok! It’s ok! I’m here! I’m not going anywhere I promise!” He told her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows screwed up in pure fear and concern. His eye was bruised and swollen, his lip badly cut, and his neck had a bruise from where he was strangled briefly. “Its ok! It ok, m’lady!” He whispered gently, stroking her tears away and smiling small. That’s when it hit her, he was her kitty, and only he could calm her down. She grabbed his arms tighter and pulled him closer, clinging to him and burying her head in his neck, sobbing and crying out in pain. He held her tight, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings to her, telling her it was going to be ok, making small jokes and comments to make her smile, until she went limp in his arms, the adults moving quick as soon as she did, pulling her from his arms as he looked on in shock.
oOo
“Marinette…” Adrien whispered softly, he was sitting their in his underwear on a chair in the kitchen. His older self was currently treating his burns and other wounds. He was silent while doing it, glancing up at Adrien when he spoke.
“Yup.” He replied, “it was a shock for me too when I found out, but after a few minutes it made a lot of sense. Doesn’t it?” He stated with a shrug, picking debris from the burn. “Who out of all our friends, hell out of anyone we know, who cares more about others than her? Who always disappeared during an attack? Who hasn’t been akumatised once?” Hearing those words made everything click into place, he was right, it was always Marinette. He loved Ladybug for years, even when he was with Kagami, and he was desperate to figure out who the love of his life was, and it was someone he saw as just a friend. But in that moment, he saw her for everything she was, it was like a light was turned on.
“Easy there tiger, just because you two know each other’s identities now doesn’t mean you will end up together.” His older self stated with a raised brow.
“How come?” Adrien asked, wincing as a piece of glass was pulled from his skin, “you’re married to her! And you’re me, so technically we end up together.” He smirked, knowing he was right.
“Wrong.” Older Adrien replied with a laugh, “does this look like something we have experienced before?” He asked gesturing to everything around him and to his younger self, “because I have never seen my older self, and I don’t have any burns.” He stated simply. “I may be older you, but your future isn’t mine. Your future has changed, catnip.”
Adrien thought it over before lifting his head when he was told to, wincing as alcohol was rubbed on his bruised neck. “How did you find out? You know, about her identity.”
This made Adrien look harder at what he was doing, glancing briefly up at his younger self.
“It’s not a very… happy story.” He stated, “it was completely by accident, and if I’m honest, it almost broke our partnership up.” This made Adrien raise his brows and widen his eyes, how? How could knowing that almost destroy them? “You see, I was seeing someone, and so was she briefly, I never saw her that way but for some reason I was… jealous of Luka and her, they were so happy, such a perfect fit, but…” He sighed, “I didn’t like them together. I thought I was doing the right thing as a friend but now I know I was just being selfish and a bad friend.”
Adrien was confused, their pasts really were different, he only briefly dated Kagami and Marinette never dated Luka, not that he knew of. “What did you do?”
“I told her straight, I didn’t like her with him and that she could do better. Bearing in mind I was 18, last year of school before we were out in the real world, I think I was just scared of losing her to Luka. She… she didn’t react well, she didn’t show up to school for a week, Alya knocked me on my ass and Kagami was so angry that I had said that, saying I obviously had feelings for Marinette otherwise I wouldn’t have said anything. She broke up with me that day.” Adrien chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving what he was bandaging. “Little did I know it was the best thing to happen to me. But everyone was angry at me, well everyone but Luka, he was older, he didn’t let much phase him and he just said he wasn’t surprised I said it, because he knew before I did.”
“Surely if you just spoke to Marinette, it would be ok?”
“I tried,” he stated with a laugh, “she refused to see me, so I visited her as Chat, like I usually did. And boy, did she have a mouthful for the boy who wronged her and broke her heart.” He pinned the bandage that was around Adrien’s neck, and looked into his eyes, “you know what could hurt a girl more than what I did?” He asked, Adrien shaking his head in a reply, “letting her rant about you to you without her knowing it’s actually you, because when she eventually discovers who you are, it is not pretty. It’s like a violation in trust.” He sighed, a small smile on his face.
“But it was a week later, Marinette had broken up with Luka, she was meant to go travelling with him for a year before she started her internship at my company but decided against it. I never asked the reason because I kind of knew the reason. But we were on patrol when this akuma attacked, it was like no other, it was hours of fighting, we had to detransform 10 times just to get this akuma down, but, once we did we were so exhausted that we could barely walk.”
He leant against the kitchen table, looking off into he distance, crossing his arms over his chest, “the protectiveness I had over that girl, boy it was like lava in my veins, you know? It kept me going. I didn’t know who this girl was behind that mask but,” he paused, “I would die for her.” He looked over at his younger self, seeing the look of understanding. “We got to shelter, her miraculous ladybugs healed most of our wounds but not our fatigue, we ended up on the Eiffel Tower, hiding from everyone, we had collapsed to the floor, both too tired to care. We knew it was going to happen, and we couldn’t do anything about it. But before we could even consider it, we were out cold.” He chuckled as if the memory was a silly dream, walking back over to the young cat and dabbed his eye gently. “We woke up… both in our civilian form.” His eyes darkened, “the hurt I saw in her eyes, she knew I had no clue who she was when I visited, not knowing it was my partner, but she knew that I had hurt her, then used chat noir to go see her and in her eyes get information from her.”
“Ouch,” Winced the younger boy, both at the pain and the thought of being in that situation.
“She lost all trust in me in that moment, what was worse was I saw it in her eyes. It took us almost 2 months to finally talk about it, we lost our partnership, we almost lost everything.” He finished up and was happy with his work it seemed, handing Adrien a shirt and pair of trousers. “But eventually we got it back, and our partnership was stronger than ever, and the miraculous connection was activated, and as they say, the rest was history.” He chuckled, putting away the first aid kit and dumping the bloody rags in the bin.
“Miraculous connection?” The younger boy asked, “what is that?”
His older self looked over at him, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, as if he knew he had said something he shouldn’t have. “You will find out soon enough, I'm sure. Now get changed, that's enough of a history lesson. Take these and meet me back in the lounge.” He stated, placing two pain meds on the counter with some orange juice before walking into the lounge. Leaving his younger self to his thoughts.
Adrien looked at the pills in front of him, his mind racing. He thought over the story he had just heard over and over, would it effect Marinette and him? Would their partnership suffer? He was lucky they had a strong friendship. He took the pills and pulled on the clothes, wincing as he did, looking at himself and sighed. He was messed up badly, but lucky he healed quickly.
He took a deep breath and sighed heavily, he was scared. He was actually terrified, Marinette needed him. Marinette… That felt so weird to say instead of Ladybug, so much had happened today, and he just wanted to sleep. But he needed to make sure Marinette was safe first.
He stood up and walked through to the lounge, not sure what to expect, last he saw when he went in there was Marinette screaming, and his heart dropped at the memory. He remembered walking out, his suspicions of Ladybug being Marinette confirmed. He paled at the memory of her, blood soaking her clothes, her face convulsed in pain and tears. He remembered the fear that caused his blood to turn to ice. He shook his head, getting rid of the memory.
He looked up, Marinette was awake now staring up at the ceiling, she was bandaged up, but he blushed furiously as she was just in a sports bra and her underwear. Bandages covered most of her body. He averted his gaze and looked over at his older self, almost for guidance. He looked back at him and nodded towards the other room.
He headed towards there, being stopped by his older self, “go and sleep, we will bring Marinette in when we are done patching her up.” He stated simply, patting Adrien on the back. Adrien nodded and headed to the room up the stairs, his legs carrying him even though he wasn’t thinking. He climbed into the soft bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow darkness took over, numbing everything and he accepted the darkness like an old friend.
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btsmosphere · 4 years
Text
Snowstorm | MYG
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~summary:
Strange things happen in the woods when you return home for Christmas. And why does your mum insist you stay away from Min Yoongi?
Yoongi x female reader
~word count: 6k
~magic au, jack frost au, childhood friend au, angst, fluff
Rating: pg
Warnings: overbearing parent, rumours and gossip, swearing, storms and bad weather
~a/n: got this one out just in time... this is my fic for November keyword ‘magic’ for @thebtswritersclub​!! This started from the bingo square ‘jack frost’, one I wasn’t sure whether to write, but it was perfect for a magic au, so I hope you enjoy it! Keep a lookout for more festive fics from me over December,, I’ve just realised quite how many fics I have to find time to write among my end of term essays yAy
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They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
It’s not as young as it once was, but neither are you. You come back to it every year, these woods. Someone needs to look after it. Not like you do that, but at least taking the time to come back and see it makes you feel a little better.
Maybe you aren’t looking after it, but at least you’re looking.
Being home from college is… fun. Mostly.
You love your family, but you sure as hell love these woods too, for when you’ve had enough. There’s one tree that forks into two, right at the heart, that you cried under countless times throughout your childhood.
Now it’s more for nostalgia. Coming home for the long college holidays, you’ve grown up and your family let you do your thing, so you don’t generally have a need to sob your heart out in the wilderness anymore.
Wow, this is making your childhood sound really bad. It wasn’t.
But whenever it was, the woods were there.
Winter is making itself felt now, air slowly numbing your face and fingers. You trail them across the bark of a tree you pass before digging them reluctantly into your coat pockets.
This tree doesn’t look too healthy. Though it still felt normal, the bark is thinning. You wonder if it will live to see new leaves in the spring.
Overhead, the dappled grey sky bears a heavier shadow. You should probably be getting back soon. Making your way, without hurrying, towards the edge of the trees, you trod over their forgotten leaves as they faded into the ground.
Soon the soft carpet of the forest petered out and you found yourself on the familiar roads that led back to your house.
No one else really seemed to be about apart from you. Except for whoever that was that just came around the corner. Hold on-
Is Min Yoongi back here? Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod-
Sucking in a deep breath, you did your utmost to avoid staring at him, eyes trailing along the ground instead. As you drew closer to each other, your grew heartbeat louder in your ears.
Now that wasn’t fair. You were meant to be over this.
But of course that was never the case.
Min Yoongi had grown up here too, a boisterous child that grew into a reserved teenager. What he was doing with himself now, you had no idea, but what was important is that he was here right now. Because maybe the monster crush you harboured for him had never really gone away.
In school, you two had been friends. Not the closest, but you would hang out together, always too shy to really talk. Now the course of life had taken you two apart; you weren’t sure you had spoken to him since you were sixteen.
Okay, he was only steps away now. You had to stay calm.
Act natural. Pretend you haven’t seen him.
Wait, no. That would be impossible. There’s only the two of you on this road, how could you not notice him?
You didn’t want to come off as rude if you ignored him.
In your panic, you looked up to find his eyes trained on you already. While your brain was busy short-circuiting, you settled for a small smile and a quick wave.
For one mortifying moment, you thought he didn’t recognise you at all. His eyebrows remained slightly creased, but just as you were nearly past him, his eyes widened.
“Y/N!”
The wide smile that had taken over his face retreated into a small, shy one as you stopped.
“Hey, Yoongi,” you smiled back.
“What are you up to?” he asked, glancing briefly to the end of the road you had just come from. Towards the forest.
“Just out for a walk,” you explained, “getting away from my family for a bit.”
“I can understand that,” he laughed quietly, scratching absently behind one ear.
“I didn’t realise you were back here,” you prompted after he trailed off, “it’s good to see you again.”
“Yeah, and you,” he nodded, “it’s strange being back sometimes, but it’s good you’re here too.”
Despite the cold, your felt heat in your cheeks. What did he just say?
“I-I mean,” he stuttered, “like, it’s weird, when things are different than you remember them , and so it’s nice when you see someone familiar… yeah.”
“Yeah, yeah, I totally get you,” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “like the forest, it’s not the same anymore-“
“Not the same,” he grimaced, then froze, realising you spoke in unison.
Wide eyed, laughter bubbled from both of you
“Are you going there now?” you asked, “it’s a bit cold isn’t it?”
As the two of you had stood talking, the light had steadily drained from the sky.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he smirked.
Surprised by his sudden confidence, you just smiled.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I should probably be getting home, though.”
“Sure,” he nodded quickly.
“See you.”
Glancing at the inky sky, you turned to leave, hands delving deeper into the warmth of your coat pockets, when Yoongi cleared his throat behind you.
“Um…”
Now a few steps away from him, you looked over your shoulder.
“We should catch up some time. Properly. If-if you’d like.”
“Yeah, sure,” you smiled widely.
“Nice. I’ll, um, see you soon.”
He gave you a wave, smile dancing on his lips. The moment you turned away, you bit your lip, trying to contain your grin. Practically bouncing your way home, your cheeks were burning by the time you reached your front door.
Stiff fingers fiddling with the key, at last you let yourself in.
No doubt hearing you stomping your shoes on the doormat, your mum came around the corner.
“You were gone a while,” she observed.
“Yeah, bumped into Yoongi on the way back,” you begrudgingly explained.
“Min Yoongi?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I remember when you used to have a silly crush on that boy!” she laughed. Kicking your shoes off, you rolled your eyes but followed her through to the kitchen.
“His family’s always been very strange though,” she continued, “they don’t really talk to anyone. Half the time I don’t even know if there’s anyone at home.”
“You’re spying on their house now?” you joked.
“Well, when they’re shut in all summer, you can’t help wondering,” she defended, “very strange, the lot of them… you would do well to stay away from them, Y/N.”
“But-“
“You’re not even friends with him, why should it be an issue?”
“You’re right,” you sighed.
It was easier to let it slide.
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They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.
Walking between the ones that still stand, Yoongi’s mind is still full of you. At least someone else still saw this place. Still cared.
And truth be told, he still cared about you. A chance to see the forest and a chance to speak to you were what kept bringing him back. It would be easy to find another forest somewhere, some wide open space, wilder than this.
But there was a soft spot in his heart for his hometown.
Raising a hand above his head, he sent the last few leaves clinging to a branch spiralling down to the floor on a gust of wind. As he lowered his arm, he let his fingers trail across the bark, leaving frost in their wake.
It was hard, having to hide. His mother told him he couldn’t get close to anyone here. Anyone that didn’t know.
Even playing with you as five-year-olds had been crossing the line, apparently.
On the ground, the leaves cleared from his path. The wind blew colder, skeletal branches rattling together as clouds knitted closer together above.
At the heart of the forest, there was a tree whose trunk forked into two. Climbing nimbly up into the gap, he settled himself and planted his palms against the bark.
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“Y/N, go and fetch the bin. It’s frosty again.”
Without questioning, you did as your mother said. She was right about the frost. Unlike her, though, you adored it. Just outside your doorstep, you stopped to stare at the thin coating of white that covered the street.
Every house, every garden, every car was painted with the delicate brush strokes of winter.
Once you had tugged the bin up the drive, you found your mother still talking inside.
“Thanks, love,” she smiled, placing a bowl in front of you, “gosh, I can’t wait for summer again. I can’t stand it’s so cold all the time.”
Instead of voicing your disagreement, you hummed noncommittally as you poured yourself some cereal.
Maybe you would go back to the forest later. It was all you daydreamed about as you munched on your breakfast before retreating to your room.
Until someone knocked on the door.
What you hadn’t seen was the fist hovering over wood, raising and lowering countless times before it finally sounded through your house. Frowning, you stood from your bed and peeked around your window frame.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.
The distinct sound of the door swinging open downstairs snapped you from your reverie, frozen on the spot. Shutting your gaping mouth, you looked around, panicked. Your mother was speaking.
You crossed your room in no less than two strides, throwing the door open and speeding down the stairs.
“What brings you here?” your mum was saying as you dashed up behind her.
“Hi Yoongi!” you exclaimed, panting slightly, “thanks mum.”
But of course she couldn’t take the hint. As you waited with bated breath for her to leave the two of you alone, she just looked slowly between you instead.
“You’re here to see my daughter?”
Yoongi swallowed hard under her stare.
“Yes, he is, mum,” you spoke, tone strained.
Really, sometimes it was like you never left. You felt like you had been transported straight back to your school years, asking your mum for permission to go out.
“And we’re going out,” you said firmly when greeted with silence.
Grabbing your coat, you slipped past her.
“Strange to see him out,” she muttered.
Praying Yoongi didn’t hear her sly comment, you hastily shut the door.
“Sorry,” you grimaced, “where do you fancy?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Following his lead, you fell into step, heading away from your house.
“I see why you prefer the trees for company.”
Now that startled a laugh out of you. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you stared at Yoongi walking beside you. He didn’t seem fazed, suddenly confident again beside you, hands buried in his hoodie as he kicked his feet walking along.
Lost quickly in conversation, you walked together until you found him leading you towards a small café.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, hot chocolate?” you answered timidly.
Smiling, he disappeared inside and reappeared very soon with two steaming takeaway cups.
“Thanks,” you breathed, taking one warm cup from his fingers and cradling it between your own.
“Didn’t want you to get cold.”
And it certainly did help. Of course you next walked down towards the woods, without a word passing between you about your destination. With the warmth flowing through you, you were perfectly content to keep going through the chilly air as you ditched the cups in a bin.
“Do you remember when Tae got stuck in that tree?” Yoongi commented.
Looking to where he gestured, you laughed.
“It was that one?”
“Yep, it’s still got that branch snapped off,” he pointed.
“Oh, yeah,” you giggled, “that feels so long ago now, doesn’t it?”
Sighing, he took another sip.
“Yeah. It does.”
Silence settled for a short moment, only your muffled steps sounding in the woods.
“Do you know if the others ever come back here?” you wondered aloud.
“Haven’t seen any of them,” he shrugged.
Way back when, there was a huge group at school, which was how you grew connected to Yoongi. There was still a group chat buried somewhere in your phone, but you hadn’t heard from most of them in a long time.
“It’s just us then,” you mused.
“I guess it is,” Yoongi said, a large smile spreading onto his face.
Then he halted, stooping down to the floor. Beside him, you watched him in confusion.
Until he sprung up, a handful of fallen leaves suddenly finding their way into your face.
“Yah!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up too late.
As the last one fell from your spluttering face, you found the shape of Yoongi several trees away, running. Mouth falling open, you instantly gave chase, quickly reaching down for a bundle of your own leaves.
“Min Yoongi!” you yelled, a reply reaching you in the form of his breathless laughter.
Pushing yourself on, your feet pounded towards him. He slowed, going over a slope, giving you opportunity enough to catch up, launching the leaves at his back.
“Argh!” he laughed, arms flapping from beneath the flurry of leaves.
But you couldn’t revel in your revenge for long, as another faceful of leaves was booted towards you. You only caught a glimpse of his gummy smile for a moment before he saw your glare and bolted again.
A gust of wind hindered you pursuit, throwing more soggy leaves at you.
Up ahead, Yoongi was scrambling up a tree. Just as you reached it, he seated himself on a branch, out of your reach. Breathless with laughter, you still tried, flinging leaves up in the air towards him.
They barely reached his feet, swinging above you, instead floating for a pathetic moment before falling right back on top of you.
Shaking them from your head, you heard Yoongi’s loud laughter above you.
Looking up, you were met with an enormous gummy smile as he slipped back down the tree, dropping deftly onto the ground, shoulders still shaking with laughter.
“Sorry,” he panted.
He reached a hand out towards you then. Frozen in surprise, you watched as his thumb met your nose, quickly swiping across it. Cold lingered there as his hand came away, a slight smudge of mud wiped on it.
Self consciously rubbing your nose yourself, you let out a chuckle, a shiver passing through you only a moment later.
“Shit, are you cold?” his smile faltered.
“It’s okay,” you assured, “we’ve just been running about. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he frowned slightly.
Turning away a little, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Going with him, you two headed across the woods to the other edge, where you could look over your town as it fell away into countryside. The sky was striped with clouds, yellowish light dimming behind them.
This felt good.
You’ve always liked this forest, hated sharing it with anyone else. But you didn’t mind with Yoongi. After so long, it was odd how quickly you felt comfortable. How fast your feelings resurfaced.
And you couldn’t help wondering…
“Hey, Yoongi?”
“Hmm?”
“Was this… meant to mean anything?”
“What do you mean?” he turned towards you.
You swallowed. Fuck. You might have just shoved your foot in it.
“Er, well, I mean, like, a date or something?” you spoke nervously.
The moment his eyebrows raised, you were certain you had made a mistake.
“Well, no…”
Oh shit.
“But it can be.”
You blinked.
“Say that again?”
“It can be,” he chuckled, warm smile making another appearance.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I heard you right,” you said, stunned, turning back to the view. Then you glanced back at him. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to a date?”
“Nope,” he shook his head.
“With me?”
A chuckle responded. “Yes, Y/N. With you.”
In the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement. But then it stopped. Looking around, you saw Yoongi return his hand to his pocket, casting his eyes down.
By the time you were both approaching your driveway again, it was forgotten. You were practically glowing.
Until you saw the figure of your mother in the front window.
The moment she laid eyes on you, she was gone from the window and appeared in the doorway instead.
“Shit, sorry,” you muttered, sharing a glance with Yoongi, “this has been really fun…”
Getting the message, he sent you a smile that squeezed his eyes.
Then he slowed beside you and you carried on, pulling away with a smile of your own.
As you drew closer, your mum stepped out and down the steps.
“Are you alright? Where did you go?” she asked straight away.
She really was worried about this, huh?
“Mum, it’s fine,” you frowned, unable to help the look over your shoulder, “we just went for a walk, what’s the problem?”
If this was her reaction to you spending time with the guy platonically, you thought it safer to leave out the other details for now.
“I told you, something’s not right with him,” she hissed, clearly trying to keep a low voice. Not that she was successful.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” you urged.
Glancing back just before you closed the door, you saw Yoongi turning away. You longed to reach for him, call out to him…
The door clicked shut.
In front of you, your mother stood with folded arms.
“What’s going on?” you asked.
“I don’t know about him, Y/N,” she shook her head, “since he was a child, he’s always been… different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whenever there was an accident on the playground, he always seemed to be around. All of us parents knew, it’s why I told you to be careful with him.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Vaguely, you recalled her saying something like that, but you must have been very small. Either way, perhaps you did stray away from him on the playground.
“No one ever knew for sure, but there were rumours,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead, “maybe he was just troublesome and liked pushing other kids over, but then his family… they never tried to fit in here.”
“And the town gossip has you this worried?” you asked, incredulous.
“I was pleased you were staying away from him in school,” she glared at you, “so where’s this come from? I hoped that silly crush was over.”
“If I was in trouble I would tell you, and you know that,” you stepped forwards, “but I can be with whoever I like! I’m not in school anymore, and Yoongi’s a grown adult too.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards.
“So you’re with him now?”
“…maybe, but what does it matter? It’s what I want to do, mum, I’ll be fine.”
Met with your pleading eyes, she merely glared back, arms tightly folded. She exhaled steadily through her nose.
“Just come and have dinner.”
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It started snowing.
You knew your mum wouldn’t want you to go outside in that. But maybe that made it all the more appealing.
She wasn’t over it, and you knew it. Sly comments kept coming your way over dinner, riling you up. Why was she letting schoolground gossip get in the way of you and Yoongi?
By the end of dinner, you were reaching the end of your tether.
If you could just go for a walk, cool off. Literally. Stepping outside, you already hugged your coat a little bit tighter around you.
Just to the forest and back, not far beyond the streetlights, then come back. But as your feet stomped through the newly settling snow, stray flakes catching in your hair, your scowl never lifted.
Your mum had never been too controlling, so why was she so riled up about this one thing? And something that was so important to you? Since school you had had a crush on Yoongi, all those years hanging onto every smile, every laugh, and now something was finally coming true.
Of course that wouldn’t be allowed. Of course, in her book, a bad child grew into a bad adult.
It was true that this town could be very self-contained and you were well used to news circulating. No wonder you hadn’t seen Yoongi back here before. You wanted this to be your chance.
Head turned down against the oncoming snow, you blinked cold flakes from your eyelashes. It was thicker now, blurring in front of you when you looked up.
A gust of wind threaded its fingers through your hair, biting across your slightly damp face. Shoulders hunching, you tried to look around you. Acting of their own accord, your feet had carried you to the forest.
You should head back.
Turning on the spot, you squinted through the darkness for the streetlights at the edge of the trees.
But darkness surrounded you.
Stomach dropping, you rubbed your hands together in front of you. Definitely should have worn gloves.
The white that now coated the forest floor and its branches reflected the precious little moonlight that could reach you here, letting you know you were among the larger trees. Your mind whirled with panic almost as fast as the snow falling around you.
When a shiver shook your frame, you knew you had to move.
If you picked a direction, you would surely find a way back eventually. The forest wasn’t that big, was it?
Maybe they had cut down some trees, but it turned out the woodland was not small. At least, it didn’t feel that way when cold water was seeping through your jeans and clinging to your face and hair. Try as you might to carve out a straight path, the snowstorm was growing, wind forcing you to lower your head.
Still, all you could see was darkness, the ghosts of trees looming from behind the blizzard in the air.
Sniffling, you tried to fight off the panicked tears threatening to spill. This had all been a bad idea. You just wanted to get home.
But unbeknownst to you, someone else was in the woods too.
Not many trees away, perched in his usual spot, Yoongi’s palms met the gnarled bark as he channelled his energy. The storm fell peacefully around him. Breathing deeply, he felt himself letting go.
He knew what this town thought of him. He hadn’t been careful enough, like his parents had told him to. He just never thought that anyone would still remember, not least your mother.
But he couldn’t claim she was wrong. Being Jack Frost came with its dangers, its responsibilities.
And he should have known better. He just wanted you, badly enough that he decided to go for it against his better judgement.
His sadness made itself known in storms like this: not violent or noisy, just cold.
As the white flakes filled the air, he looked out across the darkness of the forest. Wind tugged gently at his white hair but the snow didn’t touch him, evaporating before it hit his shoulders.
He called another gust of wind, threading it through the air, across the land.
When it reached him, it carried something with it.
His eyes opened, looking around through the storm to see where it had come from. It was normal for the branches to rattle, for animals to scurry home, but that wasn’t either sound. It sounded like a person. And not a happy one.
No one else should be out here.
Turning his head left and right, he finally made out a shadowy shape a few trees away.
Quickly and quietly, he slid off his perch, obscuring his body with the trunk of the tree. Around him, the snow calmed a little, drifting calmly once more.
As the person walked closer, he saw them wipe a hand across their cheek. And that sound came again. Were they… crying?
Louder this time, and finally they stepped into a lighter patch…
His eyes widened. What the hell were you doing out here? Assessing you with a flick of his eyes, he knew you must be freezing.
When you stopped suddenly, turning around as your shoulders slumped, he had to force himself to stay behind his tree.
Briefly wetting his lips with his tongue, he looked towards the shortest way out. Why weren’t you going that way? Instead, you were stumbling off in the opposite direction, looking to the ground.
“No,” he muttered urgently, head darting between you and the right path.
Then he made a snap decision.
Pursing his lips, he called up a gust of wind with a quirk of his hand, stopping you in your tracks as it collided with you forcefully. With wide eyes, you whipped around as the wind charged through the forest, carving a winding channel through the trees.
And on the path it tracked, the snow stopped, hovering in stasis along the sides as if lighting the way.
Not daring to breathe, Yoongi studied your face carefully as you stared at the space path he had created. Slowly coming to your senses, you turned your head. He ducked back behind the trunk, breaths falling shallow from his lips.
The snow suspended in the air waited with him until crunching footsteps met his ears.
Peering back out, he watched your form retreating through the woods, perfectly framed between the trees as you trod the right path.
He watched you go, knowing what he had to do.
The snow fell thicker.
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Yoongi would come around soon. The day after your little escapade into the storm, he hadn’t shown his face. But that was fine. It would be weird to come back the day after your first… whatever it was. Right?
But today, he would come.
And when he did, you would make sure you got his number. In a town like this, he could easily come knocking, like he had the other day, but you were sick of waiting around like this.
All day you had been restless, failing to keep yourself from the window as you hoped to see him walking down your road. You longed to tell him about what you had seen in the woods that night.
It had taken you a while to decide you hadn’t dreamt it. But the chills running though you and the damp clothes on your radiator said otherwise. Sure, you had always felt a connection with the woods, but you never expected them to do something in return.
That was what happened, though. They had shown you the way home through the storm.
Last night, you had braved the cold to go there again. The snow lay harmlessly on the ground by now, but you had still kept your wits about you and gone before dark.
Nothing.
Maybe it would just be your little secret.
Or yours and Yoongi’s, if he ever turned up.
The urge to look out of the window returned, and you fought valiantly. Staring at the ceiling was a lot less productive than staring outside, so eventually you stood.
And gaped.
He was actually there!
Right on your driveway, biting his lip as he looked up at your house.
Or maybe…
He was looking at your mum. You stilled, having been ready to race downstairs, but now you watched in horror as your mum marched down the drive.
“Sorry, Yoongi,” you heard, “Y/N isn’t in.”
“Oh, sorry Mrs L/N,” he bowed his head, “I just wanted to talk to her-“
“Well you’ll be doing no such thing,” she snapped, “she won’t be getting mixed up with you. I think you should leave now.”
Hands shaking as they gripped the window frame, you were ready to run out to them, when you heard something in response. It was quiet, so you had to strain to hear it, but when you did you could only stare.
“Could you just… could you tell her that I like her? A lot.”
Your mum scoffed, but as she opened her mouth he continued, looking at the floor.
“-and I won’t be seeing her again. You’re right. I’ll stay away.”
Rooted on the spot, you could only gape as the figures of Yoongi and your mother stood still outside. Then your mum broke the silence.
“Very good.”
“Will you tell her?”
“You should leave,” she said firmly.
Shoulders slumping, he turned away, not even looking back. His footsteps carrying him away were what finally made you move.
“Yoongi!” you shouted, tearing down the stairs as the door slammed.
“Y/N,” your mother’s voice warned.
“What is going on!” you asked desperately, trying to move around her only to be blocked.
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
“No! That’s not true! I heard him-“
“He won’t be seeing you then. It’s for the best.”
“Why?” you cried, tears pricking at your eyes, “what is so wrong with him?”
But instead of an equal retaliation, she heaved a sigh. Blinking furiously, you watched her raise her eyes to meet yours.
“His family… they’ve lived here as long as ours. They’re all strange. Weird things happen. Some sort of… magic. And they don’t mix with us. Never have, but that’s how it should be. They’re not like us, Y/N,” she finished with emphasis.
Meanwhile, a frown had taken over your face.
“That’s- what- that’s ridiculous!” you spluttered, “he’s not magic! And if he is, I don’t care!”
And with that, you pushed past her, tumbling out onto the drive, eyes desperately scanning the bare street.
But you didn’t stop there. Ignoring the defeated calls of your mother, you started running. Yoongi couldn’t have got far; and anyway, you had an idea where he might have gone. You had to catch up. You couldn’t let go of him this easily.
Feet pounding hard on the ground beneath you, you barely noticed the darkening sky above you. Clouds swirled together, looming over your small town.
The wind picked up, throwing your hair back in your face as it tore back and forth across the path. As you dashed at last between the shadows of trees, the floor was practically crawling as leaves tossed themselves along the ground.
Some launched upwards as powerful gusts rushed through the bare branches above, and soon the pummelling of hail joined the rattling of the trees.
Stumbling to a stop deep in the forest, you whirled around, trying to spot Yoongi. Wind continued to assault you, swirling in all directions in the air, trees groaning among the whooshing air.
“Yoongi!” you called at the top of your lungs. Your voice was lost instantly in the cacophony of the storm, stinging hailstones on your cheeks the only response.
Exhaling swiftly, you took off once more, still calling out.
And then you saw him.
Shoulders hunched, his outstretched arms were braced against a tree. Though his head was lowered, you could see the heaving of his chest.
Picking up the pace, you smiled in relief.
“Yoongi!”
Instantly, he sprung away from the tree, head darting around him as he looked for you. But when he met your eyes, they only grew.
And then he was running too.
Away from you.
“Hey! Yoongi!” you shouted after him.
But a roar from the forest drowned you out.
Running faster, hail chucked itself spitefully into your face, the wind surging against you from the darkening sky. Struggling on, you held your hands in front of your face, only lowering them when you trailed to a stop.
Yoongi was nowhere in sight.
Something was wrong. Why was he running away from you?
A loud creak from somewhere above you made you wince. Moving again, you called out Yoongi’s name into the storm.
The hail let up a little as you pressed on, but the raging air only grew more forceful. Creaks and groans from the battered trees surrounded you. Squinting around you, you let your feet stumble on, needing to find him. Among the storm, you could barely hear your thumping footsteps.
An ear-splitting creak made you flinch, head whipping around.
The dark shape of a tree trunk was growing bigger – growing closer.
A blur then, your eyes squeezing shut by instinct, awaiting the crash of the giant hitting the earth.
Nothing.
Cracking your eyelids open, the wind lulled in the air around you, silence buzzing loud in your ears. In front of you, the tree was tilting dangerously, towering directly over you, but caught in mid-air. And holding it up, a colossal sheet of ice, jagged icicles sticking out to one side as if from impact.
You blinked. Let out a breath.
Following the trail of ice, you turned to the side.
There, hand still outstretched, panting slightly, stood Min Yoongi.
“I’m sorry,” he half-whispered.
As you stared blankly back in shock, his eyes flicked back to the tree above you.
“Come here,” he spoke, beckoning you with his other hand.
Obeying, you trod carefully towards him. Once near enough, he gently placed a hand on your sweater-covered arm, guiding you to his side.
As you watched, he lowered his left hand slowly, the wall of ice retracting with it, melting back into the ground. With barely a bump, the tree was lowered to rest.
Returning your eyes gingerly to the boy beside you, your gaze was not returned.
His eyelids shut, lips pressing together as he bowed his head, bringing his arm back to his side at last. He swallowed.
“Y-yoongi?” you whispered.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” he muttered, still not meeting your eyes, “I should never have started anything…”
“But-but I want you!” you protested.
Now he looked at you. He looked at you like you were crazy.
“Did you not see that? What I just did?”
“You saved me.”
A breath.
“But… all the rest? I-I made that tree fall too-”
“The wind made it fall-“
“Y/N,” he stopped you, “your mum is right. I can be dangerous, okay? This storm, that’s me.”
Studying your face carefully, he waited for your reaction.
“Why?”
“It’s always been like this,” he sighed, “I’m… I have storm magic. Winter magic. My family, we’re- I’m… Jack Frost.”
Your eyebrows raised.
“No, but I mean, why the storm? Is something wrong?”
A breathy laugh burst from his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Of course there is! I can’t have you.”
“You don’t have to be scared,” you insisted.
“Don’t you understand? You’re the one who should be scared!” he cried, throwing his arms out.
“No,” you shushed him, stepping forward and slowly reaching out, “you’re scared – of hurting me. You don’t have to be.”
Settling, he watched your hand reach through the air. But as it hovered by his cheek, he pulled away.
“Don’t…”
“Yoongi, I want you.”
“And I want you. But you can’t touch me. I’ll just be cold…”
“Don’t worry,” you smiled.
But as you moved again, his hand came up to grasp your wrist, stopping you.
Then his eye widened, realising what he’d done. But you hadn’t flinched away. Looking at your hands held together, his mouth formed ghosts of words he never spoke, not knowing what to say.
“See?” you encouraged, “it’s not cold.”
Wonder-filled eyes rose, meeting your own. Closing the distance between you, he dropped your wrist and lifted both his hands to cup your face instead, touching you softly as if you were made from porcelain.
A breath escaped his lungs, mouth curving into a gummy smile.
Elated, a smile tugged at your own lips.
Then he surged forwards, lips pressing against yours like a starved man. Moving his mouth hungrily over yours, he held your face firmly between his hands as you eagerly kissed him back. Suddenly his hands were unable to get enough, sliding down to your waist and roaming across your back as he pulled you closer.
Equally enthusiastic, you tugged at his shirt, lips keeping up their mind-blowing rhythm until you were both left panting, foreheads pressed together as your breaths turned to laughter between you.
“Screw what this town thinks,” you grinned, “I’m not letting you go after that.”
“Good,” he growled, smirk adorning his face as he darted in for another lingering kiss.
The trees you stood among had watched you both grow, watched you hurt, and now they finally saw you come together, painted by the setting sun in a clear sky.
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