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maddiewritesstucky · 3 years

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Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60 for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway.

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea.

"Steve,” he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to.

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night.

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning.

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of home and family and right.

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter.

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’ with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off.

...Steve’s not here to actually see this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve.

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam.

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get.

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour.

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted.

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better.

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away.

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb.

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on.

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell.

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time.

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off.

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream.

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah - there’s a lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.”

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together.

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...”

“Mm?”

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him.

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been.

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way.

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it.

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up.

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head.

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.”

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?”

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick.

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift.

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D! to oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.” Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.”

Oh.

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway.

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures.

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?”

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours.

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins.

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.”

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings.

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close. So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.”

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.”

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose.

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall.

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.”

“Oh my god.”

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later.

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly.

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips.

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to.

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...”

“Fuck, Bucky, I...oh...”

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him.

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him.

“You said it, pal.”

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach.

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to Steve. It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath.

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair.

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.”

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose! ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.”

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time.

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.”

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?”

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him.

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

#stucky fanfic #stucky au #steve/bucky #stripper!bucky #architect!steve #pwp #sexy shower antics #Post-run Steve can get it

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animeniacss · 4 years

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 6 - Art Class

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.2k words

Chapter 6 - Art Class

Taehyung had to admit, he was excited for the first day. Decorating the welcome banner with the kids through painting was something that everyone seemed to get behind, especially the kids. Taehyung looked around, holding a clipboard in his hands as he headed towards the paint. He still had a few things left to set up, but he wanted to learn their names so he could get started. As he was fumbling about, Hoseok tapped his shoulder.

“I’ll set up the rest of the paint, go meet the kids.” He said happily, grinning. Taehyung nodded, hurrying back towards the group of children anxiously waiting for their instructions.

“Okay,” Taehyung said, plopping himself right beside Yuna, who was grinning ear to ear. “I’ll take attendance so I can learn everyone’s name.”

“You already know my name,” Yuna interjected, and Taehyung smiled.

“I know I do.”

“Well, my name is Kai!” Kai said quickly, lifting his hand.

“I’m Yeonjun!” Before Taehyung knew it, the kids were eagerly shouting out their names in hopes that Taehyung could remember them. As he looked around as the shouting children, he laughed a bit, somewhat out of amusement, but mostly out of nervousness. He had no idea how to settle these kids, and he didn’t want to mess up day one. However, a loud clap rang through the room and it all went silent almost immediately. You could almost hear a pin drop. The kids looked towards the sound of the clap, as did Taehyung, and saw none other than Hoseok. This was the first time Taehyung saw Hoseok with anything other than a grin on his face, as a stern frown stood in its usual spot.

“Boys and girls, you’re being very rude shouting at Mr. Kim! He can’t learn all your names if you all yell them at once! I don’t know if Teacher will be happy if she comes back and finds out you’re already being rude, huh?”

“…Yes, Mr. Hobi…” The kids mumbled, shifting back to their sitting positions. Hoseok nodded.

“Good. Now listen, or there’s not going to be any painting.” Taehyung saw Hoseok look at him, and almost as quickly as the clap, Hoseok’s grin returned on his face. “There you go.”

“Uh, thank you…” Taehyung nodded. “Okay…” Lifting his clipboard, he began to read off the names. Students such as Yeji, Soobin, Taehyun, and Yuna, provided polite little greetings and hellos, while rambunctious students such as Beomgyu, Kai, and Ryujin were throwing their hands up with a great big cheer and an even greater big hello. It made Taehyung smile. “Alright, so today I just want to learn about who you all are. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. So, what’s a better way than finger painting?” The kids gasped, a few having to cover their mouths to avoid whispering about how excited they were. “Mr. Hobi is putting all of the paint into plates that we’ll have on the floor for you to use, but we need to make sure we’re keeping the paint on this paper okay?” Taehyung pointed to the paper. “Everyone put your hands on it.” The kids immediately leaned forward, their hands slapping onto the paper. “Say ‘I’m going to keep the paint on the paper!’”

“I’M GOING TO KEEP THE PAINT ON THE PAPER!” The sea of children screamed in unison, grinning. Taehyung chuckled as he got up.

“Perfect.” Taehyung stood up, walking over to Hoseok, who was beginning to set paper plates full of different colored paints on the floor, giving the children easy access to a wide variety of colors. “I want you to decorate the entire banner, then when it dries, we can hang it back up!” The kids wasted no time, sticking their hands in the colorful goo before smearing it across the white banner before them. Taehyung stood above the children, watching as they scribbled and drew whatever came to mind as far as their arms could reach. As he walked past Chaeryeong, he plopped down beside her, making her lookup. “What are you making?”

“I’m making a princess.” She said, pointing to the crudely drawn figure, whose head was slightly too big for the dainty dress, yet whose twig arms and legs shot out of the dress like arrows being fired from their bow.

“Oh, a princess. She just needs her crown.” Taehyung pointed to the little spot above her head, and Chaeryeong nodded, pointing to the yellow paint that was currently being used by Yeonjun and Jisu, who made sure to include that she preferred to go by her nickname Lia.

“I’m waiting.” She said happily. Taehyung smiled a bit as he got up, continuing to watch the rest of the kids as they painted. With every step he took, every enjoyable squeal and giggle coming from the mouths of these children, the color was spreading all over the page, personality and imagination pouring out of the hands of preschoolers. As he passed by Seokjin, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re doing a great job.” He said. “This project is a great introduction for everyone and it’s going to look cute when it dries.” Taehyung felt as if a huge weight fell off of his shoulders, and he grinned.

“Thank you.” He said. “I’m just glad that the children like this.”

“These kids never finger paint,” Hoseok said. “It’s too messy.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah, that’s the point.” He said. “I’ll never understand why she’s such a stickler for that stuff.” Suddenly, it happened.

“Oops.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Mr. Kim!”

“You’re in so much trouble, Yeonjunie…” These scattered mutters of stunned children were suddenly overshadowed by a sound of light sniffling. When the three teachers looked in the direction of the noise, their eyes widened. Chaeryeong was sitting in front of her picture of the princess, and Taehyung immediately noticed the problem. On top of her adorable pink princess was a splatter of yellow paint. Not only that, but her little preschool uniform was covered in the yellow goo as well, some of it tangled in the tips of her hair. Yeonjun sat beside her, eyes widened. His hands were covered with yellow paint, lifted in Chaeryeong’s direction. He immediately looked towards the teachers, watching as Taehyung walked over.

“I didn’t mean to…” he said softly. “I just turned to fast. I promise…” Taehyung could hear the trembling in his voice as he knelt beside the whimpering and sniffling Chaeryeong.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. She looked up at him, sniffling.

“He flicked me with my paint and ruined my picture!” She hiccupped, unable to control her tears.

“No!” Yeonjun said quickly. “It was an accident!” Taehyung scanned the rest of the children, who were staring intensely at the scene before them, wanting to know what the outcome would be. Taehyung leaned over to one of the tables, grabbing a little box of tissues. He pulled a few out and handed them to the sniffling little girl.

“Wipe yourself up, okay?” He said gently. “I’ll tell your teacher and we can get you cleaned up…” Chaeryeong, finding herself calmed by Taehyung’s deep and gentle voice, took the tissues and attempted to clean herself up. Taehyung used a tissue to get some of the paint out of her hair before it began to dry. “There we go.” The two of them looked down at her pink princess, the adorable drawing now given a slash of yellow paint across the dress, strawberry lemonade instead of just an adorable little strawberry. “Do you want to remake your princess on another part of the banner?” Chaeryeong nodded, wiping her eyes.

“Mhm…” she said softly. Taehyung nodded, offering his hand to her. The little girl put her hand in his and got up, following him to a different part of the banner, where there was still an ample amount of room for her to redo her picture. When she sank back down onto the floor, she leaned towards a plate of red paint, dipping her fingers inside as she got right back to work. Taehyung still noticed her glossy eyes and could see she was still upset and embarrassed about what happened. His eyes immediately lifted to Yeonjun, who was turned to Hoseok, trying to explain himself. He too had glossy eyes and a quivering lip.

“It was an accident, Mr. Hobi, promise.” He choked out. Hoseok nodded.

“I know but we need to be careful,” Hoseok said gently, motioning to the abandoned picture. “See what happens when we don’t listen to the rules?” Yeonjun nodded.

“…What should you say?” Taehyung asked, making both Hoseok and Yeonjun look at him. When he noticed the slight confusion on the child’s face, he offered a slight smile. “What do you say when you do something wrong?”

“…Sorry, Chaeryeong,” Yeonjun called. The little girl looked up.

“It’s okay…” she said. “I made her dress even bigger now…” Yeonjun leaned forward slightly from the other side of the banner to try and take a look. “I’m not sad no more.” She assured, grinning a bit. Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his hair as the children finally got back to work.

“That’s just one of the millions of issues you’ll come across, I’m sure,” Seokjin said, patting Taehyung on the shoulder with a supportive grip. “They’re a handful, but they’re good.”

“I guess she did teach them well, huh?” Taehyung chuckled a bit. As he continued to walk around, his eyes continued to check the time. He still needed to gauge how much time it would take for the kids to get cleaned up and ready to be sent back to you before you returned from down the hall.

He had no idea what kind of process he was in for.

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

When you walked into the room after a good forty minutes of silent lesson planning, you had no idea what to expect. How would Taehyung’s first day go, providing children who still could barely count past their ten fingers paint to dip those fingers in? You wanted to sneak a peek many a time as you typed days of lessons away, however, you didn’t want to seem pushy. So, as soon as your alarm went off, you shut down your computer and hopped out of your seat and practically rushed out of the classroom, having to slow your pace just slightly the closer you got to the next room. As you got closer and closer, the sound of children giggling and squealing could be heard.

“Yeonjun did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Ryujin!”

“Oh, I forgot!”

“I said it three times, you’re the only one who is in line with dirty hands.”

“Mr. Kim, look! I’m helping Mr. Hobi! Does that mean I get to put another thumbprint by my name?”

“Don’t do that, Kai! Now you need to wash your hands again, just look at them!”

“Oh yeah…”

The sound of Taehyung’s voice frantically scrambling to clean the kids up was amusing. It even made a cocky grin form on your face. You had to see this chaos with your own eyes, you just couldn’t help it. Finally, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. Upon entering, you saw a line of children standing in front of the sink. Taehyung was helping them scrub their hands with soap and water, while those who were done were told to line up by the door and wait. The keyword here was told. You could see a few kids ready to go, such as Yeji and Taehyun, however, Yeonjun and Kai were standing by the table where Hoseok was cleaning up some of the paint plates, tossing them into the garbage while he put the closed bottles into a cabinet.

“Can we help?” Yeonjun asked curiously.

“No. What were you told to do?”

“But I wanna help.”

“Yeonjun.”

“….Okay…” He pouted, finally sulking with his friend off to the line. When he saw you standing at the door, his eyes lit up. “Teacher!” He shouted. Just hearing that turned your cocky grin into a beaming on, as you knelt to see five students surround you.

“How was the art class?” You asked curiously.

“We painted that whole banner! Look what I made!” Kai took your hand, leading you along with the other children to the banner that was moved to the corner of the room to dry. “I write my name, and that parts me!”

“That’s so good.” You said happily, kneeling. “You’ve gotten better at writing your name, haven’t you?” Kai nodded, grinning proudly. He nestled himself into your arms and continued to show you things he made before you gently reminded him that it was time to let someone else have a turn. Kai nodded, remaining in your embrace as more kids approached. A few other children took your hand into theirs, wide eyes eagerly pointing to the stuff that they created. You tried to listen to one at a time, but they were all so excited to share with you that you ended up having to listen to 14 conversations at once. As you were doing so, you looked over to see Chaeryeong take your hand. When you got a good look, you immediately noticed the faded yellow paint on her uniform and the drying water that was washed over it. “W-what on earth happened to your uniform?”

“Yeonjunie spilled yellow paint all over Chaeryeong’s dress, Teacher.” Yuna quickly cut in, her head poking into your view as she took your hand. You blinked, immediately turning towards Taehyung, who was just now finally turning off the water at the sink. The faint voice of little Yeonjun once again trying to defend himself was heard, but you chose to ignore him, instead of heading towards Taehyung as he wiped down the sink with a paper towel.

“I told you this would happen if you used to paint.” You hissed under your breath. Taehyung didn’t look up at you, simply continuing to clean as if you were not there.

“I don’t plan for the negatives, unlike you. It was the only thing that happened and they had fun. What’s the big deal?”

“Now her uniform is cover in yellow paint. I have extra changes of clothes; I could’ve gotten that stain out if you sent her back earlier.”

“She wanted to keep painting. Besides, all the paint comes out in the wash. I handled it; she’ll be fine until she goes home.” You scoffed. Before you could continue to release your anger at Taehyung, Hoseok quickly approached you.

“Hey, don’t worry. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” He assured, offering you a hopeful smile. “If you want, I’ll explain to her mom later. It was an accident.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want her spending the day in dirty clothes. It can be uncomfortable.”

“She hasn’t complained,” Taehyung assured. Your eyebrow twitched, and Taehyung was quick to notice. “But I understand where you’re coming from.” He said quickly.

“Let’s just get them back.” You said simply, turning your attention once again back to Taehyung. “Thank you.” You walked back to the front of the line, gently offering your hand to Chaeryeong. “What do we say to Mr. Kim, everyone?” The group of kids turned to Taehyung, who was still holding that wet paper towel in his hand. They bowed in his direction, before standing up.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim!” They cheered, beaming. Taehyung blinked, feeling an overwhelming feeling overtake his chest, a feeling of overwhelming happiness and…honor? He wasn’t too sure what that other feeling was, all he knew was that he felt so happy to have spent the past 40 minutes finger painting. You took a moment to study his face, before letting out a soft sigh.

“You should come out to the playground at the end of the day. I’m sure the kids would love to play with you and see them off.” You offered. Taehyung blinked, the sound of scattered gasps of excitement filling the room for a moment before Hoseok quickly encouraged them to stay silent.

“Uh. Yeah, sure. That sounds fun.” He smiled. You nodded.

“See you then.” You said, “Let’s go, everyone.” As you headed out, a few kids offered quick and scattered goodbyes to Taehyung once again, grinning.

“Bye~.” Hoseok waved, following the kids out. Taehyung watched them go.

“Teacher, Mr. Kim said we all got good day thumbprints. If we get 10, we get a prize!” Yuna said as she followed behind you in line.

“Wow, I can’t wait to hear all about it back in the classroom.” You said, before disappearing around the corner, each kind following behind with every step that was taken. Once they were gone, Seokjin closed the door, leaving him and Taehyung as the only two in the room.

“Day one is complete.” He cheered, clapping his hands. “Congratulations.”

“Was she upset that I used the paint?” He asked.

“I don’t think so. She’s more upset that you used paint and fewer kids got messy.” Seokjin grinned. “She’ll come around. You keep doing what you’re doing and the kids are going to have a great time.” Taehyung nodded. “I need to get back to my office, but let me know if you need anything okay?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Taehyung said. Seokjin nodded.

“Awesome. Go take your lunch and rest. You’ve earned it. Mr. Kim.” Seokjin chuckled to himself, before finally excusing himself and walking out of the room. Taehyung walked to his desk, sinking back in his chair. Finally, he got to take in the past forty minutes that he had just experienced, from the hectic attendance to the even more hectic clean up. A chuckle escaped his lips as he lifted his phone, turning it on to see multiple texts for Jimin from the past forty minutes. 4 texts to be exacted.

Have a good day! Fighting! (12:25 p.m.)

Call me when you can! (12:45 p.m.)

Let me know if you find Namjoon-Hyung’s son! He’s super cute. His name is Kai! (12:59 p.m.)

You dead yet? (1:15 p.m.)

Taehyung snickered, finally opening up his messages and being sure to reply with a simple thumbs-up emoji. After that, he tossed his phone onto his desk and reached into his bag for his lunch. He hadn’t realized until the kids left that he was starving, his attention was 100% dedicated to them.

And he didn’t care in the least.

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

The rest of the day went smoothly, the children had gotten their art out of their systems and were ready to move onto the rest of the afternoon lessons. The kids gathered around and spoke to you about the art class. They told you about the paint incident, the behavior chart, the prizes, anything they could think of. Kids even repeated things that their friends said, that was how excited they were about the new class. It made you happy to see them buzzing with all of this excitement, but that happiness came with a feeling of incompetence. No matter what you did with them they never once left arts and crafts that excited. At least, it had been awhile.

Fortunately, you had absolutely no time to dwell on that, instead of moving to a math lesson. Hoseok and you gathered the children up to play a basic counting game. Teams were created and given a pile of blocks. You would call out a number between one and ten and the teams would have to count out those exact number of blocks to get a point. The slight competitive edge kept the kids engaged, and it was enjoyable watching as they cheered and worked together as best as they could to make sure they could get the point. However, having a slight competitive edge almost always guaranteed one thing: tears. Lots of tears.

“But I wanted to win a prize, Teacher.” A sniffling Soobin sniffled. “I tried my hardest; I did.” You smiled as the little boy curled himself into your embrace. Hoseok was giving the winning team, consisting of Yeji, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu, pieces of candy that you stored away for moments like this.

“I know you did. There’s always next time, right?” Soobin, normally a bit more sensitive boy despite his high levels of independence, was just overcome with sadness about his defeat. He sniffling, hugging you tightly as he continued to whimper. “Awww, Soobin, don’t cry. Nobody else is sad.”

“Yes, they are. Kai tolded me so.” He huffed, crossing his arms. You smiled, your eyes wandering up to Hoseok. You both offered each other a slightly amused glance.

“Soobin, how about we move onto the next thing okay? No need to be upset. Tomorrow, we can play again if you want too.”

“Promise?” he asked. You nodded, patting his head. Soobin nodded, wiping his eyes before finally returning to his seat. With that situated, you stood up and dusted off your skirt.

“Okay. Are we ready to move on everyone?” The class nodded their heads, looking up at you as they waited for their next set of instructions. You could see Soobin continue to wipe his eyes, before Hoseok walked past and handed him a tissue, kneeling to help him wipe his face. “I need everyone to stand up next to their seats.” You said. “We’re going to dance.”

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

The sound of rustling backpacks was heard as children finally began gathering their belongings. You were cleaning up, while Hoseok was beginning to get what he needed to wipe down tables and chairs. The kids were lined up, the straps of their bags locked tightly in their grips. You were just glad today was coming to a close, the mental exhaustion you were putting yourself through today was just hitting you differently than normal.

“Are we ready to go outside?” You asked.

“Is Mr. Kim going to come to play with us?” Yuna asked curiously.

“I’m not sure.” You admitted.

“Can I go ask him?”

“Me too!” Kai said. You sighed, leaning out the door to see the art room door was closed. You looked down at the two little kids, who stood at the door with their hands interlocked together. If you didn’t let them, you didn’t think you would hear the end of it. You couldn’t handle that today.

“Okay, fine.” You said, motioning to the room. Immediately, the duo began to run down the hall. “Walk in the hallways!” You shouted before they finally slowed down. You watched the duo knock on the door. It took a moment, but when it opened Taehyung poked his head out.

“Mr. Kim, can you come to play with us?” Kai asked curiously. Taehyung chuckled, looking over at you, however, you were now kneeling and helping Yeji fix the straps on her bag.

“Sure. I’ll be right out, okay?” He said to the little ones. They beamed in excitement. “Now, hurry back to your teacher and get ready, okay?”

“Okay!” They said together as they hurried back to your line.

“He said he’ll come.” Yuna hummed happily before she got into the line. You chuckled to yourself, watching as Taehyung closed the door to his room again. By now, the children were ready to go, and you lead them out to the playground to wait for their parents. The sound of children discarding their bags as they hurried to the equipment overtook the area, and you rested against the wall, crossing your arms. Hoseok followed behind shortly after. Shortly after that, you saw Taehyung walk out onto the field.

“So, is this when they leave?” Taehyung asked you curiously.

“Yeah.” You said. “Hoseok usually plays with them and I usually watch everyone. Sometimes Mr. Kim comes out too, but most of the kids get picked up pretty quickly.” Taehyung nodded. Before he could say anything else, his name was called by Yuna and Chaeryeong, standing at the top of the playground.

“Look!” Yuna shouted eagerly. Taehyung smiled, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked over to the playground.

“The kids seem to like him,” Hoseok said, looking over at you. You sighed.

“I know they do. I’m glad they do, I guess. I want them to like going to art class.” Hoseok chuckled.

“You don’t seem convinced.” He said. “Just relax. You’re going to get stress wrinkles.” You had to admit, that made you chuckle. “See? Smile more. He’s not doing anything bad, is he?”

“No. I guess not.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m just-.” Before you could begin to vent, a car pulled up to the front of the school. It parked and you knew exactly who it was. Kim Namjoon. When he stepped out of the car, Hoseok went to find Kai, who was with his friends sitting beside the swing set looking at whatever bugs they could find in the grass. Kim Namjoon pulled his glasses off his face and he set them in his jacket pocket, locking his car as he walked up to you. You stood straight and smiled a bit.

“Hey.” He said happily. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” You said. Namjoon smiled, unable to hold up an awkward chuckle. “How are you after that little stumble on your car this morning?” Namjoon groaned, scratching his head as he thought back to it.

“Aaah, come on now.” He muttered. “Don’t remind me, that was so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was kinda funny.” You admitted, smiling a bit. Namjoon put his hands in his pockets and let out another playful, yet still frustrated sigh, which made you laugh.

“Changing the subject, Jimin told me that you guys got your new art teacher today.” He said, looking around. He took a moment to scan the playground. Finally, his eyes landed on Taehyung, who was still watching the girls go down the slide, a small smile on his face. “Is that him?” he asked.

“The one and only.” You hummed. Namjoon nodded.

“He looks familiar.”

“He’s pretty popular on Instagram.” Namjoon looked over at you.

“Instagram? N-no, no that’s not where I recognize him from, come on.” You both chuckle a bit. “But he looks familiar.” You were silent for a moment, watching as Namjoon scanned Taehyung from a distance. After a moment, he snickered and ran a hand through his brown hair. “Aaaah, it’ll come to me.” He said. “Anyway, we need to get going. I have a meeting with a client tonight and I need to get Kai ready, Jungkook is coming over tonight.” You nodded. “But I’ll be free these next few weekends. I’d like to take you out to dinner.” He said. You smiled a bit.

“Well that’s nice but I-.”

“She would love to!” A high-pitched voice shouted form behind you, startling both you and Namjoon. It even caught Taehyung’s attention for a moment. A pair of large hands hit your shoulders, and you looked over to see Seokjin, standing behind you with a grin. “Hello, Namjoonie~.” Seokjin grinned. Namjoon blushed, smiling a bit.

“Mr. Kim, stop getting involved with my life.” You begged.

“I will when you finally settle down and get married. Now, that won’t happen unless you go on dates. So, Namjoon, she would love to. Just pick a date and I’ll make sure she’s there.”

“Mr. Kim-.” You groaned, watching as Seokjin approached Namjoon, greeting him with a tough handshake. “I’ll call you later. Good luck with your meeting.”

“Thanks,” Namjoon said. He turned his head. “Kai!” He shouted. “Get your stuff and get in the car. Jungkook is coming over tonight.”

“YAY!” Kai shouted, hopping up. He quickly said goodbye to his friends as he hurried to the pile of bags by the door. Namjoon finally turned back to you, seeing your cheeks tinted pink as you ran a hand through your hair.

“I’ll call you.” He assured. You nodded.

“I look forward to it.” You said, forcing a small smile onto your face. Namjoon nodded, saying goodbye to his friend before leading his son to the car. As you watched them get in, Seokjin turned to you, grinning. However, you were in no way planning to grin back. “I hate you.”

“Awww, you’ll thank me on your wedding day.” He scoffed, before quickly fleeing the scene and hurrying back into his office.

“Wha-. You’re leaving already?!” You shouted, turning back to him. “Then why did you come out?!”

“I saw Namjoonie’s car pull up from my window!” Seokjin called back. “You’re welcome!” You groaned, covering your face in hopes that the scream you wanted to rip from your throat would just stay there for a little bit longer. As you finally returned your attention to the children, Taehyung walked over to you.

“Is that your boyfriend?” He asked. Just the sound of that word made your face beam a red that not even the children’s paint could rival.

“What?! NO! Mind your business.” You quickly looked away, crossing your arms in an annoyed huff. Taehyung chuckled a bit.

“Alright, alright sorry. He had such puppy love in his eyes I just had to assume.” You looked at Taehyung. “It was cute. I thought I was looking at a painting or something.”

“Oh, shut up.” You scoffed, and once again. Taehyung let out a deep and amused laugh. You waked towards the front gate of the building, and Taehyung watched you silently, his hands in his pockets. More parents were beginning to pull up for their children. Good, you needed to get your mind off all of this crap.

You changed your mind. Kim Taehyung was doing something bad. He was being just as nosy as your kids, and that was the last thing that you needed. That nosy punk.

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

“Kook!” Kai shouted eagerly as the tall young adult walked into the living room of Kim’s luxury apartment. Namjoon was quick to follow, watching as Kai jumped into Jungkook’s arms.

“Hello there, little monster. Ready to have some fun tonight and stay up at midnight eating ice cream and cookies?”

“Yeaaa!” Kai giggled. Namjoon sighed, patting Jungkook on the back. When Jungkook looked over, he grinned sheepishly.

“I’m only kidding, Mr. Kim.”

“I know you are.” He admitted. “But maybe save the ice cream and cookie night for the next time you come over, okay?” Jungkook blinked as he watched Namjoon lift his son from his arms, as his tiny arms wrapped around him to give his father a great big hug.

“Another meeting?” Jungkook asked curiously. Namjoon shook his head, rubbing his son’s back.

“Not this time.” He said with a grin. He thought back to the way your eyes closed into little half-moons when you laughed at his slip up this morning. He thought back to the high-pitched laughter you had as you both spoke about it, and how hard Namjoon tried to keep that laughter going as long as he possibly could. Seeing you smile like that made all of his clumsy moment worth it, and he would be willing to do a million more just to see you laugh again. Knowing what this afternoon’s event has now begun to lead up to only got him even more excited. “I have another date coming up.”

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iliketowrite1996 · 6 years

Text

Tying Shoelaces and New Faces part 13

@chaneajoyyy was a huge help as I wrote this!

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- Insecurity, mentions of breaking up and heartbreak, mentions of bullying, mentions of parents not liking significant other, lying, single parenting, and mentions of former relationships.

Paper hearts and valentines litter the tables of your classroom as the four and five year olds that you teach distribute them.

Today is Valentine’s day, and you’re just about to have your Valentine’s Day party. Erik is here to help out, as is Tony Stark. They’re dressed festively, wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans, and a red button down long sleeve and black pants, respectively.

‘’Here,’’ you hear a little voice speak to you, and you look down to see Autumn Udaku, holding a paper heart out to you.

You lean down to her level and smile at the beaming preschooler, who jumps up and down so fast that her puffy pigtails move with her.

‘’This is so beautiful, Autumn! I love it,’’ you gush to her, and the way that her little face lights up with pride makes your heart swell.

‘’Thank you,’’ she beams, hugging you around your legs.

Autumn is, without a doubt, one of the most affectionate people that you’ve ever met. Maybe that’s why she and Damien get along so well. He comes up and hugs you then before showing his own Valentine to you off, glowing as i shower him in praise as well before Autumn takes his hand and he drags her to his table.

You chuckle and shake your head fondly best friend so I’m as Erik dances over to you, giving you some oreos on a plate.

‘’Happy Valentine’s day,’’ he smirks, placing the plate in your hands, ‘’You’re not Sanaa so you don’t get the good dinner. But you’re her best friends so I gotta give you a little somethin’ somethin’ too.’’

‘’Shut up, N’Jadaka,’’ you laugh, shaking your head and gratefully accepting his ‘’gift’’ and thanking him.

‘’So what do you and my cousin have planned tonight,’’ he asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

‘’He couldn’t find a babysitter for Autumn. We’re gonna go out and pick up dinner, and then we are going to go back to his apartment and eat it and watch movies with her until it’s time to bed. Besides, I have to get a lot work to do for the Family Dance tomorrow.

Every year, the elementary school across the street hosts a family dance for all of the students. This year, you got them to collaborate with the preschool. So, a lot of your students will be attending with their families.

T’Challa is taken Autumn, and she couldn’t be more excited. When you were over their apartment last Friday, Autumn kept showing you the dress and her show and excitedly chatting about how Erik was going to braid her hair and everything.

So you find yourself sitting on a blanket in T’Challa’s living room, munching on pizza as you, him and Autumn watch a movie. Autumn is sitting in your lap, head leaned back against your shoulder as she chews on her pizza.

You’re laughing at the movie as T’Challa watches you, loving how you are with Autumn. You are kind to her inside of the classroom and out of it. He can tell that it is not a show that you put on for him- you truly love that little girl, just like you love all of your students.

This moment makes him entertain a thought that he hasn’t in so long- ‘’She could be the one’’.

It’s when Autumn is asleep that you find yourself in T'Challa's bed, his hands removing your cardigan as yours move to the buttons of his shirt.

So at, your physical relationship has gone no further than a hot makeout session and removing a jacket. T’Challa has made it clear that he wants to keep the physical part slowly building.

Besides-he’s also not ready for even the possibility of another child so soon. No, not yet.

‘’T’Challa,’’ you breathe out as you break this kiss only to place your lips back on his.

‘’I know, I know,’’ he sighs, pressing one last kiss to your lips, ‘’We should cool down.’’

He sits up then, as do you. You smooth out your shirt as he fixes the buttons on his own shirt.

‘’Do you need me to drive you home?’’

‘’No, I’ll be fine. I don’t want you wake Autumn up.’’

He walks you to the door of the apartment. Presses a kiss to your lips and runs his thumb over your lips when he finishes. Tells you he loves you.

Grins back and kisses you once more when you return the statement.

You call him when you get in, and the two of you talk as you go through your nighttime routine. It’s so sweet and nearly domestic that it makes you heart swell.

You entertain the thought of being like this with him in person, every night, full time.

Because, you’re not certain about it, but you think that T’Challa Udaku might indeed be the one.

The next night, T’Challa Udaku goes all out for his little girl. He gives her a corsage of pink flowers that he had made just for her. He poses for pictures with her, matching Autumn in his black suit, white shirt, and gold tie.

He even got a car service for the night, and he holds her hand as they walk into the school, her little eyes dazzled by the decorations in the gym.

Pepper Potts-Stark is already there, dancing with her son on her toes.

Damien is giggling away as his mother shuffles them back and forth to the beat.

Alyssa O’Malley, one of Autumn's classmates is dancing with her uncle, blonde hair swinging as he twirls her.

You pot T’Challa and Autumn just as the little girl runs over to you, embracing you as if she hadn’t seen you just that day.

‘’You look pretty! Do I look pretty?’’

‘’Autumn, you look beautiful!,’’ you gush, twirling her around, ‘’I love this dress!’’

‘’Thank you!,’’ she gushes as T'Challa joins the two of you, ‘’Doesn’t baba look handsome?’’

She’s definitely been spending too much time with Shuri.

‘’You do look handsome, my love,’’ you tell him, already aware that his face is burning.

‘’Thank you, entle,’’ he tells you before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He loves you completely and without hesitation. That’s part of why you fell for hi,.

But when you see him holding his daughter close and dancing with her, cutting up her chicken during dinner and taking silly photos with her, you realize that your feelings go deeper than just being in love. You may very well want to spend your life with this man.

But that, my friends, is a conversation for another day.

In March, T'Challa sits Autumn down. He sits at the kitchen table, scribbles coloring book pages with brightly colored crayons with her. She sips on her soy milk and munches on animal crackers.

‘Intomba, what do you think about my girlfriend?’’

‘’My teacher? She’s nice. She always smells good except for after we have gym class. She’s smart and pretty, too.’’

‘’So do you like having her around?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Autumn doesn’t even look up from her drawing as she answers her baba.

‘’You know she’s not going to take mommy’s place, right?’’

‘’I know. Mommy says that she’s just an extra adult that loves me,’’ Autumn explain the word that Nakia told her last week as they sat in the hotel room and Nakia combed through her daughter’s tangled hair.

‘’I want you to know that, no matter what, mommy and baby will always love you. You mean the world to me, Autumn,’’ he tells her.

Autumn smiles at her baba before moving so that she’s sitting on his’’ lap, resting with her head against this shoulder, ‘’I love you, baba.’’

‘’I love you, too, intomba,’’ T’Challa kisses his daughters hairline.

They’re silent for a few moments, just sitting and enjoying being in each other's presence.

‘’Baba?’’

‘’Hmm,’’ he asks, smoothing out Autumn's curls.

‘’Are you going to marry my teacher?’

T’Challa’s eyes widen as he looks at the four-year-old, ‘’Where did that come from?’’

‘’You really like her because you’re always sharing food with her like Damien does with me and you only share your sweet potato fries with me,’’ she explains, ‘’So if you find someone that you want to share your food with, you should probably marry them.’’

Autumn is four and sees everything in black and white, and T’Challa finds that he learns a lot from her. With her, either something is one thing or it isn't. O if’s, and’s or but’s, no grey areas shaded in between.

If you love someone, you spend your life with them.

It’s that simple to her.

That’s why in April, when Autumn is spending a weekend with Nakia, he finds himself sitting with you on your couch. Sanaa is with N’Jadaka, so the two of you have the apartment to yourselves.

‘’No, we can’t go back to that pasta making class because you,’’ you point your finger at him, ‘’ Broke that woman’s pasta maker.’’

‘’How was I supposed to now the handle would come off?!’’

You laugh heartily, shaking your head, ‘’You stopped being attractive to ehr in that moment. Like, instantly.’’

‘’Well, your pasta was awful.’’

‘’At least I got to make pasta and didn’t break the equipment.’’

��The next thing you now, his hands are moving up and down your side, tickling you. You erupt into giggles before the two of you fall to the ground and T’Challa continues to tickle you.

‘’Enough, enough!,’’ you continue to laugh as is hands slow.

T’Challa chuckles then, before pressing a kiss to your lips, ‘’I love you so, so much.’’

‘’I love you, too.’’

‘’On fact,’’ he sits up, pulling you up with him, ‘’I wanted to ask you something. You know I care for you and I can see this working out. Long term. I know we haven’t even been together for even a year, yet, but…’’’

He trails off then, obviously flustered. He wants to make this work but how will you react? Will you turn your head and runaway and not give him the time of day in this relationship? Will this be too much for you?

‘’I was thinking about that recently, too. I think that… I can see us making this long term.’’

‘’I’d like to marry up someday, since we’re being honest. Not soon. I don’t think that I’m ready for marriage anytime soon, or having my own kids. I mean, you know I love Autumn. But as far as having a child myself…’’

‘’It’s not the right time. I understand. I feel the same way about having another baby. I’d prefer to wait until Autumn is a bit older.’’

‘’That makes sense,’’ you nod, leaning your head against the couch, ‘’So… we’re going to stay together?’’

‘’We’re going to stay together,’’ he presses a kiss to the back of your hand that he’s still holding.

‘’And we’re going to get married someday.’’

You don't’ ask that. You state it. You know that, just like the sun rising and setting,it is an inevitable truth. You want T'Challa just as badly as he wants you, and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

Maybe you’ve fallen for each other too fast, but you don’t care.

As his lips descend on yours, you realize that you he doesn’t, either.

Maybe you’re being reckless, but you don’t mind.

Because if loving each other is hasty and imperfect, at least you’re in it together.

It's in April that Nakia finds out just how much Autumn adores you. She’s spending the week with Nakia only two towns over, but she video chats T’Challa right before bed every night. T’Challa is nearly always with you when she does so, and Autumn is excited to speak with you right after she finishes talking to her baba.

‘’Autumn, she’s nice to you, yes?’’

‘’Really nice! When baba was sick, she helped me make soup for him and everything. She babysat me all ay until grandpa and granny came over.’’

‘’Oh, really,’’ Nakia questions as she cuts up Autumn’s food for her, ‘’What else?’’

‘’She taught me how to tie my shoes! And she always holds my hand when we are out and meet new people.’’

‘’She does now? Like when?’’

‘’Like when we went to the museum and they wanted us to work in groups with other people and baba was in the bathroom,’’ Autumn explains to her mother.

Hm. She’ll need to see this for herself.

Nakia knows T’Challa’s in love with you. And she loves him, but she’s not in love with him. Not anymore. She will always love him, as he will always love her. But his place is a spot next to you now.

And, besides, she’s seeing someone new.

Anyway. Nakia sees the day that T’Challa looks at you. What warms her heart is that you return the look when you gaze at him.

Maybe that’s why at night when Autumn is falling asleep on her freshly braided hair, Nakia decides that she needs to have a conversation with you.

It looks like you are going to be a constant, maybe even permanent, fixture in her daughter’s life.

Nakia is not messing around when it comes to her daughter.

So, she decides she'll +invite you to coffee one day. Talk things through. See where your head and your heart is. Because if they’re not with other T’Challa and Autumn, she’s going to tell T’Challa.

Autumn Elizabeth Udaku is Nakia’s whole heart.

And she’ll put her own friendship with T'Challa on the line before she dare lets him be with someone that doesn't love their daughter.

It’s May when Autumn graduates from preschool. Sanaa takes pictures, as she has the day off from the town school due to a power outage. Erik gives her a fist bump. Nakia presses kisses to her daughter's cheeks as T’Challa does the same. Shuri cheers on her little niece, N‘Jobu gives her a hug as she runs over to them afterwards. Ramonda pulls her granddaughter into her arms, and T’Chaka picks her up, pressing kisses to her hairline and cheeks.

‘’Grandpa is so proud of you, ‘’ he admits, ‘’You’ve graduated preschool.’’

‘’I’m so smart!,’’ Autumn announces, causing them all to laugh.

‘’You sure are smart, intomba!,’’ Autumn takes his daughter into his arms, ‘I love you.’’

‘’I love you, too, baba.’’

You stroll over to the group after greeting more families, and Autumn rushes so that she’s hugging your legs, ‘’Did you see me?!’’

‘’I sure did, Autumn! You're a kindergartner now. Wow!’’

The family invites you out to dinner.

‘’We found a restaurant that serves some dishes from Wakanda,’’ Shuri explains.

‘’It is absolutely delicious,’’ N’Jobu reassures.

‘’She might be too busy,’’ T’Chaka looks to you, ‘’She’s had a very busy day, after all.’’

It’s no secret that he doesn’t like you. Everyone, except Autumn and T’Challa, can see it.

The only one of those two who has an excuse, as far as you are concerned, is Autun.

She’s four.

T’Challa is a grown man who doesn't see that his dad doesn't like you, Sanaa, or Peter. There’s a common theme there, and you think you’ve figured out the why, you just can’t understand what to do about it.

That's conversation that’s not meant for now.

So, much to T'Chaka’s chagrin, you agree. T'Challa holds your hand under the table and he openly rolls his eyes. Sanaa is seated next to N’Jadaka, and T’Chaka doesn’t even look at her when she speaks.

Something tells you you’re going to have to have a talk with T’Challa.

And the sooner, the better.

Later, you’re walking back to the T’Challa’s car with N’Jadaka and Sanaa. Autumn Has gone off to spend time with Nakia, since she will not see her again until nearly the end of June.

‘’It’s a shame you can’t come with us on the trip,’’ N’Jadaka states.

‘’Oh, you know, I respect it being a family thing’’ you shrug, feeling T'Challa's grip on your hand tighten.

‘’Girl, please. You’re already part f the family. I think Sanaa would’ve liked you coming alone,’’ N’jadaka tell you, and it takes everything in you not to stop walking right here and look to T’Challa.

You stew on that the whole way home. Ignoring the conversations between he other three adults in the car.

T’Challa steals glances at you and you don’t return them.

So he claimed this was a family vacation…

Yet Erik invited Sanaa.

Sanaa. Who he has been dating just as long as T’Challa has been dating you. T'Challa didn’t invite you on the trip that he is taken with his family, his daughter and his ex wife.

His ex-wife who you know he still loves.

Have T’Chaka’s words finally penetrated T’Challa’s mind? Has he seen what T’Chaka ha said as the truth and exchanged bitter words for the sweet future he’s promise you?

Is there something going on between him and Nakia and you being in Wakanda would ruin that?

He doesn't say a word to you as you drop Sanaa and Nakia off at his place.

He doesn't’ say a word when you walk up to your own apartment, him silently falling behind you.

He doesn't say a word events you close the door of your apartment adnt ur to him.

‘’Entle,’’ T’Challa begins voice heavy and breaking, like ice that has finally been cracked by something stronger than it.

T’Challa’s demeanor is his armor, and this has epoxies things that he never wanted to- the fact that he can keep a secret, even if his intentions were originally good and was doing it with a good heart.

He’s hurt you now, and he must explain.

‘’My love, I-’’

‘’Stop right here. I’ve been thinking about this the whole car ride. I think… T’Challa.’’

‘’Entle?’’

‘’T’Challa… we need to talk.’’

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL CHARACTERS, I JUST LIKE WRITING FANFICTION. I WON DAMIEN, AUTUMN, AND SANAA, AND ALYSSA IN THIS CHAPTER.

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @starsshines-blog @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @bidibidibombaclaat @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx

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brianc521 · 6 years

Text

Baby Steps; Clocks Ticking

Shawn comes home from his late meeting to find that Y/n and Adelaide are already at the house, seated for dessert.

“Daddy!” Adelaide cheers, watching her Dad walk in setting his keys on the counter.

“Girls.” He nods, addressing his ladies.

“You missed dinner.” Adelaide pouts, crossing her arms.

Gone is the excitement of having her Dad home, now on to making him feel bad for being late.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He says walking over and kissing the top of her head, then stealing a bite of her ice cream as he moves closer to Y/n. “Hey you.” He whispers in her ear, wrapping an arm around her waist as she tries to move to the kitchen.

“Hey.” She sighs, still trying to move away.

“Where are you going, come here.” He says turning her so she’s facing him.

“I have to do the dishes.”

“You made dinner, I’ll do the dishes. Kiss me hello.” He whines, bottom lip pouting out.

“Hi.” She giggles, leaning up and kissing him. “I can do the dishes.”

“Let me get Adelaide off to bed and then I’ll do the dishes. Go relax Babe.” He kisses her cheek.

She nods and looks up at him, and he can see something in her eyes. He can’t quite tell what it is but he can see it, and it worries him.

“What’s wrong?” He drops his voice, so little ears don’t hear.

“Nothing.” She bites her lip, tale tell sign she’s lying.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Can I tell you later?” She asks softly, looking down at her feet.

“Should I be worried? Because you’re worrying me.”

“No,” She looks up at him. “Don’t be worried, I’m just being a girl.”

“My girl.” He corrects, nodding at her.

“And your girl is just being a little over dramatic.”

His eyebrows furrow, and he lets his fingers that are on her hip slip under her sweatshirt and caress the skin of her hip.

“Can I ask why?” He whispers trying to pull her a little closer.

“I’ll tell you later.” She says nodding, looking at Adelaide over his shoulder and then meeting his gaze.

“I love you.” He smiles, wanting to remind her that he’s there for her and that he always will be.

“I love you too.”

With that she’s off to the kitchen to put her dish away, and then walking to the living room and curling up in the corner of the couch with her phone in her hand.

He watches from the doorway, and then turns back to Adelaide.

“Hey Bug,” He sighs, pulling up a seat next to her high chair.

“Hey Daddy.”

“How was school?” He asks, wiping a bit of ice cream off her face.

“It was good, Y/n had to lead the whole class by herself.”

That catches Shawn’s attention, making him sit up straighter.

“Why?”

“The other teachers called in sick, and so she taught us all.”

“By herself?”

“Yeah and she did so good,” Adelaide says stuffing another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“Well that’s no shock.”

“I think that’s why she’s tired.”

“Yeah me too.” Shawn says looking at Y/n in the living room. “But you had a good day?”

“Yeah, but you missed dinner.”

“I know Bug I’m sorry.” He says smiling softly, taking her hand and holding it. “So,” He starts. “You know how Daddy has to go fly on a plane and work sometimes?”

“Yeah, when you go to the states.” She nods smiling at him. “Last time I got to go too.”

“Yeah, and we had fun.”

“Yeah it was so awesome!”

He chuckles and then deflates when he says, “So I have to go back.”

“Oh, when are we going?” She asks tilting her head at him. “Cuz you said we’d practice more guitar tomorrow after school.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “I know, and we will.” He confirms. “But this time Bug, I think you’re gonna have to stay here.”

“What? Why?”

“Well you have school now, and you can’t miss it. And I’m gonna be so busy and flying so much, it wouldn’t make you feel good.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Almost two weeks.”

“That’s a long time.” Her eyebrows furrow. “That’s like two days of the week song.”

“I know it is, I’m gonna try and be home soon though.”

“When do you go?”

“I leave really late tomorrow night.”

“But we can still practice guitar?”

“Yep, I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll come home and be together for the rest of the day.”

“Okay great!” She claps.

“Okay.” Shawn smiles, “Let’s get you ready for bed Bug.”

“Awe no!”

“No whining, come on. I know you’re tired, it’s in your eyes.”

She gives up her fight and let’s Shawn take her upstairs, getting into her PJ’s and then tuck her in.

“No cuddles?” She asks with a pout.

He sighs and sits on the ground.

“What if I sang to you instead tonight? I wanna go check on Y/n, make sure she’s feeling okay.”

“Oh yeah, do that.”

“Do you want me to sing to you?”

“Yes please?”

“What song?” He asks, leaning over to grab her little guitar from her stand.

“Kisses.” She requests, meaning Butterfly Kisses.

It’s the song he’s been singing to her since she was born.

He nods and starts picking at the small guitar, singing her to sleep.

Making his way downstairs he finds Y/n in the kitchen, standing at the sink. She’s doing the dishes silently.

“I said I would get them.” He says taking a plate from her hand and setting it back down on the counter.

“But you were with Adelaide and I was just sitting here.”

“I got them.” He whispers, pecking her lips.

“But I have nothing to do.”

“Yeah you do.” He nods, standing in front of the sink.

“And what’s that?”

“You’re gonna sit right there on the counter and tell me why my girl thinks she’s being over dramatic.”

She sighs and stares at him.

“Or you’re gonna go sit on the couch and watch a show.”

Still staring at him, trying to win.

“Or you can stand there and stare at your super good looking boyfriend and not say anything.”

“Little full of yourself aren’t you.”

“You’re the one staring.” He quips back.

She smiles and then hoists herself up on the counter.

It goes silent and she sits staring at the ground, not sure how to speak her mind.

“Let’s start with work.” Shawn speaks up, “I heard you were by yourself today. How was that?”

“They both called in sick, Rachel and Claire.” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. “And like I had no time to find someone else to cover, so I had to be by myself with the whole class. Which I can handle just fine, but today also happened to be the day that my boss came in with the owner to observe me and see if I fit the spot to be promoted.”

“Promoted? You might be promoted? Since when?” Shawn asks, dropping a dish in the sink as he looks up at her.

“I thought I brought it up. Sorry.” She gives an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay, tell me about this promotion.”

“I’d be lead teacher, and like have my own classroom.”

“Babe that’s incredible.”

“I know, so they decided today of all days would be the one where they would observe me. I was already stressed because Claire was supposed to be lead today and had all the shit for the projects in her car so I had to come up with something on the spot. And then Carter decided it would be the day that he learn to run on tables and tell the class what his he heard his Dad say.” She buries her face in her hands.

“What did he hear his Dad say?” Shawn asks cautiously, sponge in hand, hand towel on his shoulder.

She looks up with a glare, “That the fire hose wasn’t the only hose his mom had seen.”

Shawn laughs, covering his mouth. She starts to giggle and kick her feet a bit.

“So anyway I looked like a total train wreck in front of my boss and the owner of the preschool and I can kiss the promotion goodbye and won’t be shocked if I get fired.”

He’s finished with the dishes and moving to stand between her legs.

“You aren’t gonna get fired.” He slides his hands up her thighs, resting them on her hips. “And they would be really stupid if they don’t give you a promotion because you got a stellar review from the little girl upstairs.”

“I did?”

“Said you did so good.” He hums as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“At least someone thought so.”

“I’m sure everyone thought so.”

She bites her lip as she stares at him.

“What else is on your mind?”

She huffs and rolls her eyes at herself. “Please don’t think I’m like overly clingy or pathetic.”

“I would never.” He shakes his head.

“I just miss you.” She says quietly, looking down to hide her face.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.” He says pulling her closer. “Babe, look at me.” He lifts her chin up. “I’m right here.”

“I know that, I do. But you’ve been busy a lot lately. I see you for a split second before work and then for like an hour when you get home.”

“Awe Baby.” He sighs tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know I’m sorry. I miss you too.”

“I don’t know, I’m just being overly dr-”

“No you’re not.” He cuts her off. “Don’t even finish saying that sentence, because you’re not. You’re being a girlfriend.”

“A clingy one.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Babe, you aren’t being clingy. It’s okay to miss your boyfriend when he’s been a shit one and hasn’t been showing you much attention.”

“Shut up, you are not a shit boyfriend. And you’ve been showing me plenty of attention.”

“No not really, Baby come cuddle.” He says starting to pull away.

“Shawn.” She says not liking the way this conversation has gone.

“I wanna talk, but I also wanna hold you.” He nods. “I have to tell you something too.”

“Oh?”

“Come on though,” He says pulling her upstairs.

They both move around the other getting ready for bed, and finally crawling in bed. They tangle together, legs wrapped around legs, his arms pulling her into his chest.

“What did you need to tell me?” She asks softly, drawing little shapes on his bare chest.

“I have to go to the states for a promo run.” He whispers, fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp.

“Oh, okay. When?”

“I fly out late tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” She sits up to look up at him.

“I know it’s really soon Baby, but I didn’t really know about it till this morning.”

“Okay, so what does that mean for tomorrow?”

“It means I’m gonna drop you and Adelaide off at school in the morning and come back here and pack. Then I’m gonna come and have lunch with my girls, and then I’ll come back and pick you guys up.”

“And after you pick us up?”

“Then we can do whatever you two want.”

“What time is your flight?”

“11:30.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“They guesstimated two weeks.”

“Guesstimated?”

“I’m gonna try and cut it short.”

“What does this mean for Adelaide? And me? I can always go home but what about-”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” He sighs, rubbing his face. “It’s so much to ask and you can say no because Geoff is staying but her routine is already gonna be changed with me out of town. If you wanted you could stay here, sleep here while I’m gone. She’s so attached to you, and I’d hate for-”

“I’ll stay.” She smiles, shutting him up. “You’re right, it’s best not to change up her routine. And let’s be honest, there’s no way I could be away from both my Mendes’ for that long.”

Shawn smiles, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Your Mendes’ eh?” He grins pulling away.

She laughs and nods, cuddling back into his chest.

Just then is when he hears her, Adelaide’s soft whimpers and hiccups.

“Adelaide.” He says springing out of bed, rushing to her room.

He opens her door, finding her sitting up clutching her bear with tears running down her face.

“Bug? What’s wrong?” He asks softly, kneeling by her bed. Y/n tip toes across the hall and stands in the doorway.

“I had a bad dream.” Adelaide whines crawling to her Dad, burrowing herself in his arms.

“Awe Bug I’m sorry.”

“Can I sleep with you?” She whispers into his chest.

“Bug, you gotta sta-”

“Yeah Adelaide, come stay with us. If I remember correctly, you didn’t get your nightly cuddles.” Y/n interjects.

Shawn looks over at her, eyes softening when he sees her smile. He stands, still holding Adelaide, bringing her back to his room.

She lays on his chest as she calms down from her dream. He rubs her back and hums her song as Y/n covers them both with the blanket.

He’s getting out of the Jeep, ready to pick his girls up from their day at school. He’s in his grey sweats and a blue shirt, tattoos on full display.

He sees Y/n first since she’s at the front desk when he walks in.

“Hey Beautiful.” He whispers, leaning over the desk to peck her cheek.

She jumps and looks over with a smile, “You scared me.”

“Sorry Baby.” He chuckles.

“Daddy!” Adelaide cheers running to him. He bends over picking her up, backpack almost falling off her arms.

“Hey Bug.” He gives her a big kiss on the cheek. “How was school?”

“The same as it was when you asked at lunch.” She shrugs.

“So still good?” He tickles her side.

“Yeah,” She laughs swatting at his hands.

Y/n walks past them, focused look on her face. Shawn reaches out with his free arm and just barely grabs the back of her sweater.

She turns as he pulls her back, “Where are you going?”

“I have to do some paperwork, it’ll be quick. Give me a minute.” She says emotionless, walking into the office.

“She been like that all day?” Shawn asks Adelaide, still looking at Y/n through the door.

“Yeah, it’s like she’s sad.” Adelaide rests her head on Shawn’s shoulder. “But when I asked her why she was sad she said she wasn’t. I told her to call you, she didn’t did she?”

“Nope.” Shawn sighs, watching as Y/n leans against the wall, hand resting on her forehead as she waits on the printer.

Adelaide cuddles closer taking a deep breath.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” She yawns.

“You were up late, you slept better with us?”

“Yeah you made the monster go away.”

“Well of course I did, that’s what I’m here for.”

“And to drive me places.” Adelaide adds.

Shawn laughs and squeezes her side. “Let’s get you in the car booger.”

“Don’t call me a booger.”

“Okay, let’s get you in the car Bug.”

“That’s better.” She nods.

Shawn walks to the office, sticking his head in.

“Babe,” He says softly, making her look up. “I’m gonna put Adelaide in the car, someones a little sleepy. Take your time, we’ll wait in the parking lot.”

“I’m sorry, give me like five minutes.”

“Don’t apologize it’s your job, take your time.” He winks at her, earning a blush and a smile.

Walking back to the car he holds Adelaide closer, not wanting to let go for the next two weeks.

“I got her to smile, did you see that?” He says buckling her in.

“No I had my eyes closed.”

“What?” Shawn laughs. “You must be really tired.”

“I wanna take a nap.” She yawns.

“Okay, we’ll be home soon. We’ll cuddle and take a nap.”

“Okay.” She blinks slowly.

He shuts her door and gets in the driver seat.

10 minutes later Y/n comes rushing out of the school, bag in hand, hair a mess.

Shawn scrambles to get out of the car, Adelaide asleep in the backseat.

“Hey I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shakes his head. “Can I have my Hello kiss now?”

She smiles and leans up to kiss him, which he gladly accepts.

Walking her to the passenger side he stops her before she gets in.

“Why are you sad?”

“I’m not s-, Adelaide talked to you.”

“Mhm, but I can see it myself.”

“You leave today,” She pouts, crossing her arms. “It’s got me a little down.”

“You do know I’m coming back, and I’m gonna bug the crap out of you when I’m gone. It’s gonna seem like I didn’t even leave.”

“True.”

“Stop pouting, it’s making me sad.” He says kissing her pout.

“Okay, no more pouting.” She puts a smile on her face.

“You’re so pretty.” He sighs opening her door.

After naps and cuddles they all play guitar for a bit.

They then move on to games and coloring as Shawn’s clock slowly ticks down.

He gave Adelaide a bath, read her a bedtime story, sang her her song, had a short cuddle session and then finally had to tuck her in.

“Bye Daddy, can I call you in the morning?”

“Yes you can.” He nods, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re gonna miss waffle Saturday.”

“I know it, Geoff’s in charge of waffles.”

“They’re gonna be burnt then.”

“He got better.” Shawn reasons, “But Y/n’s here to help too.”

“She can cook then.” Adelaide yawns.

Shawn’s phone buzzes and he looks down to see that it’s time to go.

“I have to go Bug.” Shawn sighs. “Be good for Geoff and Y/n please.”

“I will.”

“And I’ll call you every morning and every night before bed.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too.”

“To the moon.” He raises his hand.

“And back.” She nods, grabbing his hand.

“Bye Adelaide.”

“Bye Daddy.” She sits up to kiss his cheek.

He kisses her forehead one more time and then tucks her back in. He clicks her night light on and shuts her room light off.

Blowing her one more kiss he closes her door and goes down the stairs.

“The cars here.” Y/n says from the front window.

“Come here.” He says pulling her into his arms.

“Have a good time.”

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too.”

He leans in and kisses her. It’s soft and slow, he’s holding her face, as he lets his tongue explore her mouth slowly.

“Shawn you have to go.” She pulls away breathless.

“I know, I just don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to either,”

“I’ll call you in the morning, Adelaide will bug you about it.”

She laughs and nods.

“She’s also worried about Geoff making the waffles tomorrow.”

“I burn them twice and suddenly I can’t cook.” Geoff says emerging from the living room.

“Well, I mean.” Shawn shrugs with a laugh, still holding her close.

“You gotta go man Andrew’s blowing up my phone.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m getting there.” Shawn sighs looking back at his girl.

“Talk to me yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Call me whenever, I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Okay.”

He turns to Geoff and gives him an awkward bro hug, whispering, “Take care of my girls.”

“They’re in good hands.” Geoff whispers back.

“Bye Baby.”

“Be safe.” She walks him out the door.

“Always.”

“I love you.” She says watching his bags get put in the trunk.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.” She shakes her head.

He stares at her as he gets in the car and is driven away. Geoff wraps an arm around her shoulders as Shawn drives away.

“He’ll be back in a week.”

“It’s just weird.” She sighs, “I’ve never been in love like this and it scares me that he’s so far away you know?”

“I get it, let’s get you back in the house. It’s cold.”

“You know I think I’m gonna go to bed, it’s late and we have to be up early for waffles tomorrow.” She says once they get back inside.

“Yeah true, sleep well Y/n.”

“Thanks Geoff.” She says with a small smile, going up the stairs.

Passing Adelaide’s room she can hear her small sniffles.

“Adelaide?” Y/n pokes her head in her room.

“Did he leave?” She hiccups.

“Yeah Honey he just left.”

“I miss him already.”

“Me too.” Y/n sighs.

She looks down the hall at Shawn’s room, where she’ll be staying, alone.

“Wanna sleep on his side of the bed.”

“Can I?” She sits up.

“Yeah, that bed is too big to sleep in alone. Come on, it’s time for nightly cuddles.”

**//**

Here’s your warning for the next couple parts, we’re gonna fuck you up.

Co Writer: @shawnhavemercy,

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes request #shawnmendes imagine #shawnmendes fluff #shawnmendes blurb #shawnmendes fic #shawnmendes request #baby steps #baby steps masterlist

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pixiegarbage-blog1 · 6 years

Text

November 1st

November 1st, 1993.

The clock read three thirty-four in the morning, too early to wake up and get anything done without waking the kids, and somehow still late enough to be impossible for me to go back to sleep. Gerald slept with his back to me, his robust body moving up and down with each intake of heavy breathing. It was chilly, I noticed the ice creeping up the glass on the windows, fogging the night, so I snuggled into his back for warmth, hoping to gain some semblance of rest before his five o’clock alarm would go off. He was always out to work earlier than the rest of us, an hour-long drive out to whatever construction site he was managing, and then his scheduled call to ensure the kids and I would be heading out of the house. It helped when Tommy refused to get out of bed until he had ten minutes to get ready; I had enough to do getting Anna dressed and packing their lunches, as well as my own, and it was nice that even after ten years of marriage, Gerry still believes in co-parenting on all levels. I placed a chaste kiss on his back, his breathing eased, and I shuffled under the thick duvet, watching my breath turn into wisps of white. I hope the kids weren’t too cold, the boiler would kick in at four o’clock like it always did, filling our house with enough heat to last until we left, then turning itself off again. Timed heating was a necessity for a small, middle-class family of four in Vermont; we had what we needed, and sometimes we’d spoil ourselves in late January and rack up the heating bill as an extravagance, but that was only because trekking out in nearly eight feet of snow for firewood was too much for any one of us. It’s only the start of November and I’m already worried about the snowfall this year-Gerry reassured me we would be fine, as we always were. He was a mountain man, born and bred, and I was just a girl from South Carolina who rarely dealt with six inches of snow, let alone six feet. Gerry was like my own personal radiator; he never moved an inch in his sleep, always facing towards the door, never a shift in the bed, he just laid down and fell asleep. I was envious of that; I tossed and turned like a woman possessed, taking hours to get to sleep, and when I finally manage it, I’m awake again, staring at the clock’s red digital interface, and cursing at my inability to sleep like a normal person.

The clock read four oh-one and I heard the boiler kick in. I whispered a quiet ‘thank God’ and tried to relax my breathing. Think quiet, soft thoughts…

The clock read five o’clock and the sound of the alarm was blazingly loud. I think I fell asleep for a little bit; well, it was more dozing than real sleep. I wondered how much coffee I would need to drink to get through today; the kids would be groggy after eating so much Halloween candy last night, that’ll add a few extra cups. At least they had decent coffee at work, it was part of my responsibility as Office Manager to keep such things in working order and to stock it with coffee. Needless to say, I didn’t put the cheap stuff on the buying list. Gerry was finally rustling awake, which always surprised me, nothing bothered him in his sleep, not storms, not the kids, not me rustling around right beside him, not even the alarm which was set to the highest volume to he’d actually wake up. He pressed the snooze button, as he always did, and sleepily walked to the en-suite bathroom, softly closing the door behind him, and as always, I flipped the switch to alarm 2, which was set for six thirty. I shifted over to his spot on the bed, relishing in the warmth it brought and enjoying the imprint of his that swallowed my five-foot-two body. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the sound of the shower running.

The clock read six twenty-eight and I almost cursed my body. I missed Gerry on his way out and I woke up two minutes before the alarm even went off. Two minutes of blissful sleep stolen. I made sure to switch the alarm off so it wouldn’t shock me while I was in the bathroom. The mirror was still a bit fogged and although he never means to, there was water around the bathmat. I used a free foot and a hand towel to soak up the residue. The house was finally warm and smelled faintly of coffee Gerry prepared every morning for the both of us. I needed to take a quick shower before waking up the kids; though part of me knew getting into a hot shower would add an extra cup to today. I wiped down the mirror and splashed some water on my face, getting ready with the kids was tradition, so I hit Tommy’s room first before I woke the little princess. I knocked twice, his door splashed in stickers of superheroes from different comic books I didn’t recognize, they were all Batman and Superman to me. He replied to my wake-up call by pulling the printed duvet over his head and groaning. I reminded him there were Eggos in the freezer, and if he was up and ready early enough he could have them the right way, on a plate with syrup and a knife and fork, not shoved in his mouth as he raced to the car. He whined that he wanted to sleep as I started down the hall to Anna’s room, and I muttered ‘me too’ in agreement. Anna was already awake when I opened the door, groggily wiping the sleep from her eyes, and quietly attempting to adjust her shirt which had ridden up her baby belly. I sat on her tiny bed and gave her her morning hug and kiss, asking if she had any good dreams. She shook her head and nuzzled into me, the smell of her wafted pass me and I smiled. She still had a baby’s scent, even at three years old. Her long hair was matted and tangled and I know she’d hate me for a little while when I was forced to brush it out.

The clock read six forty-four by the time I was able to pour a cup of coffee, Anna clinging to my leg, and Tommy still in bed. I called down the hallway for him, but he didn’t answer. That boy would wait for a phone call from his father before he did anything. I savored my coffee black, one sugar, letting the aroma overwhelm my senses and the caffeine to kick in. Anna clutched at my knee and I kept a hand on her head to remind her I hadn’t forgotten about her. She was shy, quiet, and followed directions as best she could, an angel to have after raising Tommy, who had been an independent hell-raiser since they first handed him to in the hospital; at eight he was less of a hassle, now that he could clothe, wash, and take care of himself in the mornings, he just lacked the initiative.

The clock read seven oh-eight and Gerry called, earlier than usual, but he said he was heading out to a landing site and wouldn’t be back until noon. I handed the phone to Tommy who was still in bed, and within seconds, he was up and at ’em. I sighed as he tossed the phone to me, I thanked Gerry for his magic touch and that I would give him a call around lunch just to check in. I was on my second cup of coffee, but I barely had a chance to touch it since Anna required my full attention in the mornings. I managed to get her dressed and her small backpack packed, but she would always cry when the time came to put on her shoes. She wasn’t fond of preschool, being so young and so shy, and away from me. I wasn’t fond of being away from her either, I would tell her, but I would see her at two o’clock on the dot when I came to pick her up. She would have playtime and her lunch, which I was going to be making soon, I asked her what she wanted and she agreed to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in little crust-less triangles. I kissed her head and let her watch her favorite morning cartoons while I got dressed. I took a large gulp of lukewarm coffee and cringed.

The clock read seven thirty-five and I still managed to beat Tommy. He was barely dressed and distracted by cartoons meant for children much younger than him. I urged him to finish getting ready while I bagged their lunches, he had ten minutes before we needed to be on the road. He muttered something I chose not to hear and passed by him on my way to the kitchen. Anna was busy munching on her breakfast, a bowl of cut-up melon and strawberries, which would still have enough left over for snack time at ten o’clock. I prepared the same lunch for both of them, and a roast chicken sandwich for myself, using the leftovers from dinner last night. I poured another cup of coffee in a to-go mug.

The clock read seven forty-nine and we were behind schedule. I got Anna in her car seat, having to undo the fastening three times as she claimed it was too tight across her chest; on the third time, I assured her she was okay and called again for Tommy. I left the car running as I rushed him out the door, a waffle hanging out of his mouth as he tried to mumble something to me. I shook my head, locked the front door, and we got settled in the car, finally.

The clock read eight oh-two and Tommy was searching through his bag. I begged him not to tell me he forgot something because we weren’t going back. He shuffled things around, then slammed them down, turning on me like a scared cat. He forgot to do his book report, of course. I looked in the rearview mirror at him and made a huffing sound. He begged me to let him stay home sick so he could do it. I told him he should’ve made sure he put it on the whiteboard we had set up in his room, so he wouldn’t forget things like this. He angrily kicked my seat and I could tell he was on the verge of crying. Anna was getting upset at him getting upset and started to curl up into herself, an action she only does when she’s about to cry. I told Tommy to stop kicking my seat or I was stopping and calling his father. He pleaded with me again, that he just forgot, it was just one day, one day at home and he could do it and turn it in tomorrow. I asked him why he didn’t actually do it before if it would only take him an afternoon to write, why didn’t he write it when it was assigned. He screamed out of frustration and I felt my lack of energy pushing against the fallout button every parent has; the one to just stop the car and spank their ass until they’ve stopped; but I pushed through, we were late as it was, and his school’s turn was just up ahead, right before the bridge which led to Anna’s preschool, I cursed inwardly. His screaming caused Anna to start crying, and her crying was pitiful and meek like somehow she imagined all of this to be her fault. I felt my heart breaking in two, one part in anger and frustration, and the other in dire need of more rest or more caffeine. Tommy was screaming, Anna was crying, and I was turning in my seat.

I didn’t see the clock before the impact.

This is the first short story for 30 days of short stories for NaNoWriMo.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2017 #30 days #30 days 30 short stories #short stories #writing

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newbrunswickweb · 7 years

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Swim lessons won't keep your toddler from drowning — in fact, they could increase the risk

A toddler jumps onto his mother during a swimming class for babies at Lane Cove pool March 16, 2007 in Sydney, Australia. Getty Images/Ian Waldie My son has almost drowned twice, and both times, it was my fault. He had been frolicking in the shallow end for 45 minutes in both cases. Then I got distracted for a minute, and when I glanced back, he was gone. There were multiple people in the pool with him each time, some within a couple of feet, a few of them relativesand nobody saw that he had drifted back to where the water deepened and had sunk below the surface. The only reason I noticed was because when I looked for him, he wasn't there. These two experiences are among the most traumatic of my lifeI still have nightmaresand they were pretty scary for him, too. Thankfully, he was fine, at least physically. But the incidents proved to me that drowning kids don't call for help; they don't kick or splash. They just sink and quietly disappear. More American kids die today from drowning than from car accidents, making drowning the leading cause of injury death in kids ages 1 to 4. Even when kids survive a near-drowning, as many as 10 percent suffer permanent neurological damage. My son took group swim lessons after the first incident. But after the second, I signed him up for private lessons. The absolute best way to prevent him from drowning, I surmised, was to ensure that he learned basic swim skills. I was wrong. As I discovered when I dug into the literature on childhood drowning, the idea that swim lessons prevent drowning, especially in young kids, is a dangerous one"part of the problem, not the solution," says Kevin Moran, a longtime lifeguard and drowning researcher at the University of Auckland in New Zealand.

Toddlers explore the water with their parents during a swimming class for babies at Lane Cove pool March 16, 2007 in Sydney, Australia. Getty Images/Ian Waldie The American Academy of Pediatrics takes a more conservative stance, but it, too, argues that there is not enough evidence to recommend swim lessons for young kids.* A single, small US study suggests that swim lessons make drowning less likely, but they aren't even close to a panacea, and the notion that knowing how to swim keeps kids safe can paradoxically put children even more at risk. I know what I'm saying is sacrilege to many readers; research suggests that 68 percent of parents think it best to start swim lessons before a child turns 3, and more than half think swim lessons are the best way to prevent drowning in toddlers. Our local gym has waitlists for infant and toddler classes, and its website touts that the classes teach kids "water safety," which any reasonable parent would take to mean "drowning prevention." The American Red Cross states that "the best thing you can do to help your family stay safe is to enroll in age-appropriateswim lessons," which it starts offering at the tender age of 6 months. Yet the statistics are clear: Swim skills are simply not enough. Two-thirds of kids who drown, believe it or not, are excellent swimmers. The fact is, young kids don't learn survival skills in regular swim classes, in part because they can't. "Mostly, what these lessons do is prepare the child for swimming by making them comfortable in the watergetting their face wet, going under the waterand teaching them some rudimentary skills," says Barbara Morrongiello, a professor at the University of Guelph in Canada who studies parent safety practices and drowning prevention. There's nothing wrong with this; if classes foster a love for water play and swimming, that's great. What's bad are parents' assumptions that the classes do more. "Swimming programs for youngsters under 4 shouldn't really be considered a drowning prevention strategy," Morrongiello explains. read more That's because the ability to survive a near-drowning typically requires more than just the types of water skills that keep children afloat in normal swim situations. Kids might drown because they're really tired, have gotten a muscle cramp, or have been injured during water playand they need to learn what to do in these specific situations to stay safe. Children are also especially at risk after falling into water fully clothed, because clothes make swimming more difficult. Cold water has the same effect. And then there's the need for panicked, near-drowning kids to stay calm and focused enough to swim to safety and to be able to hold their breath for more than a few seconds, which wee ones can't usually do. "Swimming competency is but one of the many physical and cognitive competencies needed to prevent drowning," Moran explains.

A toddler held by his father swims underwater in a search for toys during a swimming class for babies at Lane Cove pool March 16, 2007 in Sydney, Australia. Getty Images/Ian Waldie In other words, knowing the crawl typically doesn't suffice. (A note to anyone wondering about those viral videos that show babies can be trained to be "drown-proof": Read this, please. Those videos and claims are dangerous.) Making matters worse, research suggests that swim lessons can cause parents to become overconfident about their kids' abilities and watch them less carefully. In a 2014 study, Morrongiello and her colleagues regularly surveyed parents over eight months as their preschoolers (ages 2 to 5) took swim lessons. As the kids acquired more lessons, parents began to believe that their kids knew how to keep themselves safe in potentially dangerous water situationsthat they were, for instance, good judges of their own swimming ability and knew to stay away from pools when unsupervised, which aren't things that swim lessons generally teach. The parents also began to assume that their kids needed less careful watching around water, which isn't necessarily true, either. (The small study I mentioned above suggesting that swim lessons reduce drowning risk has what are called wide confidence intervals, a statistical sign that it's impossible to tell just how strong the effect is and that it may vary a lot between kids.) In another study, Morrongiello and her colleagues asked parents to judge how well their kids had mastered various swim skills in their lessons and found that parents overestimated 1 in every 5 skills. (This overestimation of competence tends to be especially bad among fathers.) Some researchers also worry that when kids have had swim lessons, they, too, will lose their natural fear of water and be more likely to, say, jump into the pool without telling anyone. Yet the last thing we need is more kids frolicking in the water unsupervised. I'm an obvious teaching example, but many parents are lax observers: In a 2009 study, Moran and his colleagues observed families at the beach and found that 29 percent of parents didn't adequately supervise their kids under 5, and nearly half didn't adequately supervise their 5-to-9-year-olds. Indeed, a national 2004 survey found that 88 percent of US children who drowned were supposedly being watched at the timebut caregivers get distracted. They talk on their cellphones or to other pool-goers; they read; they eat; they sunbathe. A study of kids who drowned in Washington state found that only 12 percent of preschooler drownings were actually seen by anyone, which suggests that most kids drown with caregivers nearby who are simply not paying close enough attention.

Toddlers explore the water with their mothers during a swimming class for babies at Lane Cove pool February 16, 2007 in Sydney, Australia. Getty Images/Ian Waldie Another thing to consider about swim lessons in young kidsinfants especiallyis that exposure to chlorine in pools may heighten the risk of respiratory problems such as wheezing, bronchiolitis, and asthma. And when swimming, kids swallow a whopping four times more water than adults do, which isn't great, because doing so can cause recreational water illnesses including infections and diarrhea (hopefully not in the pool). And if they inhale even a little bit of water into their lungs, they can also sustain lung damage. Most of these outcomes are quite rareI'm not trying to totally freak you outbut they are things to keep in mind when pondering swim lessons for very young children. Both the American Academy of Pediatrics and the Canadian Paediatric Society do not recommend swim lessons for children under 4, but as of 2010, the AAP doesn't recommend against them, either, noting that "a parent's decision about starting swimming lessons or water-survival skills training at an early age must be individualized on the basis of the child's frequency of exposure to water, emotional maturity, physical limitations, and health concerns related to swimming pools."* Morrongiello points out that there are water competency classes that focus more on drowning-prevention skills, such as Canada's Swim to Survive program, but they target kids third grade and up because young kids don't have the strength and stamina to reliably use these skills. I'm not antiswim instruction, and I'll continue with my son's private lessons (he's 6 now) because I think they're wonderful for a number of reasons. It's important for parents to recognize, however, that a child who knows how to swim is not a child who cannot drown. The AAP recommends that parents remain within touching distance of their kids at all times; I sure wish I had been closer to my son when he went under. The organization also recommends four-sided pool fencing and that parents know CPR. Floaties are great, but they aren't a talisman, either, because they can get tangled in pool equipment or unstrappedmy sister's son was once saved by a lifeguard after quietly taking his flotation device off and jumping back into the pool. (And avoid the inflatable ones.) Bottom line is this: "The only way to ensure your child is not drowning," Morrongiello says, "is by watching them." *Update, June 21, 2017: This article has been revised to clarify the AAP's current recommendation on swimming lessons for children under age 4. http://www.businessinsider.com/swimming-lessons-could-put-your-child-at-a-higher-risk-of-drowning-2017-6?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=referral

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